A Chilly Reception
"All right, children!" Miss Satoko called. She clapped her hands together. "Two lines, that's it. All together now!"
Most of the children obeyed. Others did not.
Shaking her head, Mokou pressed a couple fingers against her mouth and whistled shrilly.
The rest of the children hurried over to line up.
"Thank you, Mokou," Miss Satoko said. She nodded to the town guards that had come to escort them. "All right, now let's go!"
Technically speaking, the orphanage was still within the land claimed by the Human Village and there was little between it and the market other than distance, but that was no excuse to be lax in the orphans' protection. It would take an especially foolish youkai to attack them this far into Human territory, but unfortunately foolishness was one trait that youkai did not lack in.
As everyone took their places, Rumia stole a glance at the guards. She had never paid them much mind before in trips past, but after what Miss Mokou had said, she was curious.
There was two of them, as always. They looked older than most of the grown-ups that Rumia knew, even older than Miss Haruna. What good they would do if something came at them, she didn't have the slightest idea. However, they didn't seem to mind being there at least.
In addition to the guards, three of the grown-ups were going with them as well. Miss Satoko was in the lead as always. She wasn't as old as Ms. Haruna, but she was still pretty old, with her greying hair tied up in a neat bun tied with a pair of sticks and a well-wrinkled face. She was wearing a red blouse, a black skirt, and had a bamboo kasa on her head.
Walking with her was a man wearing well-worn grey jeans and a white shirt, with a religious symbol hanging from a necklace beneath his shirt. He was Mr. Joshua Stump, the only grown man working at the orphanage. But that wasn't the only thing that set him apart.
Mr. Joshua was an Outsider, someone who had not been born in Gensokyo but had ended up trapped after wandering in by accident. He certainly looked pretty weird. Apparently the average adult height outside of the Hakurei Barrier was a bit taller than most Genokyians, but Mr. Joshua was short even by local standards, in that Rumia's eyes were often level with his chin. And his last name was very appropriate, as he looked like a tree stump, with skin so dark that it looked like he had been burnt and thick, gnarled muscle that spoke of a life of physical labor. Apparently he had worked as a construction worker, but didn't like talking about his past much beyond that. His big black beard was thick and curly, while his eyes were bright brown.
All in all, Mr. Joshua was not exactly what one would call attractive, but Rumia still liked him a lot. He was incredibly nice and fun to play with, and seemed to have limitless tolerance for their jokes. Okay, so his religion was really weird, but that was fine, and he had plenty of great stories. Most of the time he worked as the orphanage's handyman, repairing anything that needed fixing and improving anything that he could. All things considered, Rumia and the rest kept him very busy.
Next to him was a pretty young woman with a cheery round face, bright blue eyes, and short, curly pink hair. She was wearing a sky-blue robe faded in places to resemble clouds and a wide-brimmed bonnet tied with a pink ribbon. She was Ms. Haruhi Kijoko, who split her time conducting lessons, supervising playtime, and trying to keep the place clean.
Ms. Haruhi had actually grown up in the orphanage, and had opted to stay and help once she had come of age. That just seemed weird to Rumia. She had been free to go wherever she wanted, and she just decided to stay? Forever? Granted, Rumia didn't have anything against the place; after all, it was the only home she had ever known. But there was a whole world out there. Why wouldn't anyone want to go see it.
All told, none of them looked especially intimidating. Ms. Satoko was tough, yes, but not especially scary. Ms. Haruhi could be grouchy and stubborn when someone really got on her nerves, but that wouldn't deter any possible attackers. And sure, Mr. Joshua was strong, but Rumia honestly couldn't picture him actually fighting anyone.
Then she glanced over to Miss Mokou, who was trailing the group with her hands stuck into the pockets of her baggy red suspenders. Now there was someone who was appropriately scary. Ms. Mokou wasn't particularly big or muscly, but there was always something about her that felt, well, dangerous. She had a sort of faraway look in her eyes, like she wasn't really paying attention to anything going on around her, but Rumia knew better. Mokou was keeping track of everything around them. If she had a reason to suspect that something was up, then nothing got past her.
Rumia remembered a time a few months after she, Kohta, and Keine had found Mokou's badly hurt body in the snow and dragged her back to the house. They had come across her one warm spring afternoon reclining against a tree with her eyes closed, apparently fast asleep. A whispered conversation had followed, a wooden bucket retrieved and filled with water, which was then stealthily taken over to the napping Miss Mokou.
They got as far as lifting it up over her head when she, without moving or even opening her eyes, had murmured, "Don't even think about it."
That had raised many questions. Had she really been asleep at all? Was she aware of them the whole time and simply let them get as far as they had just to pull the rug out from under them?
Regardless, they had figured that since they had gotten that far, they might as well go through with it and dump the water anyway. That day had ended with Miss Mokou heading back to the house with a smug look on her face, three bewildered children tucked under her arms, and not a single wet hair on her head.
They still had no idea how she had done it.
But while Rumia certainly felt safer with Miss Mokou around than with the decrepit guards, she was very curious as to why the cook was going along in the first place. Miss Mokou never went to market with the rest of them. Hell, Rumia couldn't remember her ever even leaving the orphanage since she had shown up.
So she decided to ask her.
Rumia hung back a bit until the rest of the girl's line has passed her up and Miss Mokou was next to her. "So," Rumia said. "Why're you coming along?"
Miss Mokou looked amused. "Why? Worried I'll bust whatever little heist you're planning today?"
"Nah, no plans like that today," Rumia said. "Too many people. But even so, you never go to market. Why today?"
Miss Mokou shrugged. "Had a bad feeling. Figured someone might try something today, so might as well be there to put a stop to it."
"Is that so."
"Yup."
"Uh, what someone, exactly?"
"Dunno," Miss Mokou said. "They haven't done it yet." She then gave the back of Rumia's shoulders a gentle shove. "Now stop lagging."
Sighing, Rumia hurried back to her place in front of Keine and next to Kohta.
In times past, they would go to the big market inside of the Human Village. In times past, they would have at least six guards show up to escort them, and they tended to be young and tough looking. But for some reason, they had stopped letting the orphans in, so they had to go to the smaller general market that was more-or-less in the center of the Human lands. It was there that people from the smaller towns, villages, and hamlets would go to buy and sell. No one had really explained why that had changed or why the quality of guards had dropped. There had just been a few months without any market trips, and when they started up again it was at a different market.
A lot of the other kids had been disappointed. Haruko especially had thrown a fit. Apparently she had had her eye on a crystal comb in the shape of a multi-colored butterfly that she had been saving up for that she now would never get to buy. Rumia, however, had actually liked the change. Sure, the trinkets sold there weren't as pretty and everything seemed second-rate in comparison, but it was filled with folks who lived out in the rougher parts of Gensokyo, places that were closer to the wild magic. As such, things were a whole lot weirder.
The market was set up as sort of a long road bordered by makeshift wooden frames draped with cloths, furs, or leather, forming two rows of tents. And along the tents were several stalls set up by anyone who did most of their business there, while those who didn't have enough merchandise to justify a stall wandered around with full bags or loaded backs. Food stalls sold freshly harvested vegetables, caught fish, slaughtered meats, bags of rice, baked bread, sweet treats, or fully cooked meals. Some stalls sold clothing, some sold tools, others sold raw materials such as lumber or glass or brick. There were even a few that specialized in things other than the essentials, though those were in the minority.
Kohta nudged Rumia and Keine and pointed. One stall was dedicated to hand-carved wooden toys. They were rougher than the kind found within the village market and were unpainted, but that didn't make them any less cool.
And one in particular had drawn their attention the last time they were there, that of a big, fat animal with big flapping ears, a tiny little tail, a stupidly long nose, and two big horns coming out of its mouth.
Back at the orphanage, there was a worn picture book called Roy's Big Top Mystery. Apparently it had come from the outside world, and it took place in a very weird looking type of festival that they had outside of the Hakurei Barrier called a "circus." Rumia and her friends had always been entranced by the images of colorful tents, flashing games, gaudily dressed performers, and exotic animals, the likes of which weren't seen in Gensokyo.
One in particular was called an "elephant." Rumia had half-expected it to just be a tale, a mythical beast added to the book to give it a bit of flavor. However, Mr. Joshua had confirmed that elephants were very much real.
That had been an eye-opener. Rumia had been told by Mr. Joshua and Melissa Garcia that magic was in very short supply in the Outside World, and that people there would consider Gensokyo to be a mythical land full of wonders. But the Outside World had elephants! What fairies compared to that?
At any rate, over the last year or so she and her friends had been working on a personal project: make a circus of their own. They had built tents from sticks and paper decorated with wildflowers and filled it with people made from the same materials. None of it ever looked particularly realistic, but screw it, it was good enough for them. Still, having a genuine elephant would definitely bring the whole thing together.
She turned toward Kohta and Keine. "Okay," she said. "Got yours?"
Kohta nodded and pulled out a bag of coins out of his pocket. Keine took out one of her own. Rumia took out hers. Spending money was hard to come by in the orphanage, but between the three of them they had managed to pull together enough to get their little circus its own elephant.
Rumia carefully counted out the collected coins. Then she hurried over to the stall.
The toy merchant was leaning back on his stool and smoking a long-stemmed pipe with his eyes closed. Rumia stoop on her tiptoes to peer over the stall. "Um, excuse me!" she said, waving her hand back and forth. "Hello!"
The merchant opened his eyes. Then when he saw who had interrupted his rest his brow deepened into a scowl.
"What?"
Rumia dumped the coins onto the counter. "We'll take the big fat guy!" she said, pointing at the elephant.
The merchant looked at her, then to the small pile of coins, and then at the wooden animal. "Where did you get this money?" he said.
"Does it matter?" Rumia said, and a little indignantly at that. Sure, the three of them could be a little grabby with things that technically did not belong to them, but they had earned their savings the honest way. Specifically, through a collection of odd jobs and errands done for the caretakers, and as someone who was principally opposed to that level of degradation, Rumia felt that they had earned every last bit. "Money's money!"
The merchant pushed the coins around with his finger. Then he shrugged. "Sorry kid. This ain't enough."
"What?" Kohta said. "Wait, the last time we were here you said it cost four thousand five hundred yen! And we have four thousand five hundred yen!"
"That was then," the merchant said as he leaned back again. "This is now. Price went up to seven thousand yen!"
"Wha-No it didn't!" Rumia sputtered. "You're just saying that because you don't like us!"
The merchant used his palm to swipe their hard-earned coins off the counter and onto the ground. "Beat it, youkai-tainted."
Next to Rumia, Keine went stiff.
"What," Rumia said, "did you call us?"
"I said beat it! Don't make me call the market guards."
Rumia opened her mouth to fully earn getting dragged away, but then Keine grabbed her by the arm. "Let's just go," Keine whispered.
Kohta's clenched fist was shaking. "Are you just gonna let this-"
"Kohta!" Keine hissed. "It's not worth it. Let's go!"
"You heard your friend," the merchant said, shooing them away. "Get lost."
To be perfectly frank, Rumia would rather get dragged away and kicked out of the market for good than to willingly submit and retreat with her tail tucked between her legs. The thought of that kind of humiliation was almost too much to bear.
But while she was perfectly fine with getting into trouble for the sake of her pride, causing a commotion would draw too much attention to them, to Keine.
And they weren't about to risk blowing her secret.
Though her face was burning so hot that steam had to be coming out of her ears, Rumia bit back the torrent of verbal abuse she wished to unleash. So she just knelt down and started to pick up the fallen coins out of the dirt. Kohta and Keine helped her get them back into the bag, and the three of them walked away.
It wasn't until they were fully out of the merchant's earshot that Kohta muttered, "That sucked."
"No shit," Rumia responded.
"Do you think he, uh, knows?"
Rumia glanced at Keine, who was staring down at the ground. "No. I think this is what Miss Mokou was talking about. You know, about idiots?"
"Why though? What'd we ever do to them?"
"Who knows? They're stupid. Stupid people don't need a reason to be stupid."
"Well, I think it's obvious!"
The three of them stopped. Then their faces twisted into scowls of annoyance and they all turned.
Their mortal enemies were there. Haruko was smirking at them with her arms folded, Hayate standing to her left with one hand on her hip and Eiko snickering at her right.
"We saw what happened," Haruko said. "And you know what? I get it. That guy didn't want you driving off all his customers with your ugly faces!"
"Piss of, Haruko," Rumia snapped. As a retort, it fell short of her normal standards, but she was in a bad mood.
"Hey, hey, hey, chill out!" Eiko said. "Don't get mad just because the people here have standards!"
"Then why are you still here?" Kohta said. "I mean, anyone that knows better would've tossed your ugly asses out from the start!"
"Hmph." Haruko gave her auburn hair a flick. "That's obvious too. They know class when they see it."
"Then prove it!" Rumia said. "You try to buy something!"
"I will!" Haruko said in a haughty tone. "As a matter of fact, there's something I've had my eye on for a while! Just watch."
The three of them sauntered off to a nearby cosmetics stall, one that sold things like ribbons to perfumes to really shiny makeup.
"Um, Rumia?" Keine said. "How is this going to prove anything?"
"Just watch," Rumia said.
"But what if it's just that guy? I mean, the other stalls probably aren't like him too."
Rumia didn't say anything. She just waited.
Much like Rumia had done earlier at the toy stall, Haruko waved her hand to get the attention of the proprietors, this one a gaudily dressed woman wearing more ribbons that she probably had on display.
As Rumia watched, Haruko pointed to a long ribbon of white silk. She pulled a handful of notes out of her pocket and offered them to the woman.
The woman looked at her, at the comb, and then Haruko. Then she rolled her eyes and said something that looked biting.
Rumia couldn't help but smirk as Haruko stiffened in shock. Then she and her friends began arguing. Though the actual words were hard to make out over the babble of the market, Rumia was able to catch the words, "Stupid fat cow!" and, "Go and boil your head!"
The next moment, a large man seemed to appear out of nowhere. He placed himself between
"Um, excuse…us. What is happening at this place?"
It was two more girls from the orphanage, specifically Melissa Garcia and Kana Anaberal. Melissa was the only child there that hadn't been born in Gensokyo, but instead had originally come from the Outside World and had gotten stuck in Gensokyo. As she had no other place left to go, the orphanage had taken her in. And because she hadn't been born in Gensokyo, she looked…weird. Despite being only a year older than Rumia and her friends, she was a full head taller, with eyes that were big and round and skin was almost as dark as Mr. Joshua's. Plus, she didn't speak a lick of Japanese when she had first arrived. She did okay now, but talking to people still took some effort.
Next to her was the closest Melissa had to a best friend, a small, pale girl with long and curly blonde hair. Kana Anaberal was, to put it bluntly, a weirdo. She always seemed to be in a different place than everyone else, staring at things that weren't there and talking about things that had nothing to do with anything that was going on. Rumia didn't dislike her exactly, but just talking to her was a mentally taxing experience.
"The…the store people will not speak to us," Melissa said. "They say…go away. They not…they do not let us buy."
"Perhaps it is the fairy dust," Kana said without looking at anyone in particular.
"Yeah, same with us," Kohta said. "Looks like they don't-Wait. Hold on. What fairy dust?"
In answer, Kana held up both palms, which were covering with tiny sparkling grains of something, like glass sand. "This. Maybe they are allergic?"
"Uh…" Rumia and her friends all glanced at one another. "Why are you hands covered with fairy dust?"
"To help me fly! We start flying lessons soon, do we not?"
"Er, well, yeah," Keine said. "But I don't think fairy dust will help."
"Oh, I think it will."
"Where did you even get that?" Rumia said. "You're not tearing off fairy wings, aren't you?"
"From the kitchen," Kana said. "They have lots!"
"What?"
"It is not fairy, uh, dust," Melissa said in exasperation. "It is just sugar."
"Sugar is fairy dust," Kana said. "Same thing, really."
"No," Rumia said.
"Yes," Kana said. She smiled.
"Um, all right," Rumia said, blinking. "Sure. Why not?" She then looked back to Melissa. "And we don't know. They did the same to us and to Haruko and her friends. I guess they don't like us here."
Melissa sighed. "That is…shame. I was hoping to try magic box, but they will not let me even look at it!"
"Magic…box?"
Melissa pointed at a stall that offered items of a more mystical persuasion. Most of it seemed to be practical stuff like charms, wards, and blank spellcards, but they also had a handful of more exotic wares, like that silver wand encased in glass or that egg-shaped thing that glimmered with a myriad of different colors.
As for the box in question, it was a green chest the size of a woman's jewelry box encased with bronze that sat upon the counter.
"Well, they probably have a point," Rumia said dubiously. "I mean, it's probably cursed."
Melissa frowned. "Then why is just out there like that?"
"Maybe it's a small curse? Like, the kind that just causes minor annoyances, like your foot gets a bitch of an itch on every other week or everything you eat tastes like it's been left out overnight?"
Then they heard a sharp cackle. Standing nearby in the alley formed by two tents was an old, old woman, withered and hunched over. Most of her features were shrouded in a heavy black cloak, and she walked with the support of a gnarled cane.
"Is it magic you're seeking, my little sweets?" the cloaked woman said. "Well, today is a most fortuitous day, for I have all the magic you could ever want!"
…
Something was off, and unfortunately Satoko knew exactly what it was.
As she stood off to the side to keep an eye on the children, she saw how they were being treated. In visits past, everyone had been more than happy to see them. The stallkeepers had enjoyed putting on a show for the children, offering silly discounts and the occasional free sample or sweet offering. Storytellers had regaled them with tales, while small-time magicians had shown off their tricks.
No longer. Now they were being turned away one right after the other. Satoko watched the merchants get gruff and unfriendly when they saw her kids in their grey uniforms. She saw the furrowed brows and whispers going on. She saw it all.
And the sad part was that this wasn't the first time this had happened. It had been the same at the Human Village, in the weeks leading up to their eventual banning from entering.
Satoko wanted to go right up to those merchants and give them a piece of her mind. In fact, she had done just that the first time around. It hadn't helped, and had only sped up their banishment, but someone had to say something.
However, now she knew better. Going after the locals would only be attacking the symptoms. She needed to go right after the cause.
She still had some friends in the Human Village. Not many, but they slipped her news of the comings and goings. And they had let her know that a certain someone was going to be making a rare trip outside the walls to this particular market today. He didn't do that often, so she had made sure to schedule the orphanage's trip for today.
Satoko let her eyes unfocus and drift over the crowd, not zeroing in on anyone in particular while taking note of anything that stood out.
Then she saw him.
Across the sea of stalls, wares, and faces, a short man with dark, curling hair and a protruding belly was walking around the stalls that specialized in sweets and snacks, eyeing the merchandise without ever actually buying anything. Not that he needed to, as one of the bakers had already given him a large honeycake to munch on for free. He was dressed in a dark blue robe and had on a tall, white hat trimmed with gold lace, one that was specifically tailored to hide the ever-increasing bald spot on the top of his head. Accompanying him were four guards who were considerably younger and more fit than the ones who had shown up to escort the children.
Satoko pursed her lips. Then she walked over to Mokou.
For her part, Mokou was staying in the shadows of one of the tents, out of sight. By the look of things she had also noticed how everything seemed off, and was probably thinking of doing something about it.
"Hey," she said as Satoko approached. "Things usually this, ah, tense?"
Satoko shook her head. "It's been getting worse, but no. This is new."
"Want me to do something about it?"
"Not unless someone actually threatens the kids. We might have to leave early regardless. However, I might just have enough time to see to the root cause." Satoko pointed.
Mokou peered over the heads of the crowd to see what she was pointing at. "Ah. Got it." She smiled. "Well, go and kick his ass. I'll keep an eye on things."
Nodding her thanks, Satoko headed off to take care of business.
If she was spotted approaching, no doubt the entire entourage would make a hasty exit. So she ducked away from the main market lane and snuck behind the tents and stalls. No one paid her much heed as she hurried along, her head and shoulders bowed low.
Sure enough, when she did step back onto the main lane, her target had his back to her. He was speaking with a man and a woman that looked like they were farmers, no doubt to "hear" their concerns about something or another and offer up pretty words of sympathy and empty promises. What was more, his guards were mostly paying attention to the couple, and had not seen her yet.
Good.
The short man patted the taller farmer on the shoulder and said something. The two farmers bowed low and started to walk away, still nibbling on his cake
Seeing her chance, Satoko strode forward and called out, "Master Sonozika!"
Master Gendou Sonozika, the Leader of the Human Village and, by extension, the rest of Gensokyo's Human population, instinctively turned toward her. When he saw who it was, his doughy face, already shining with sweat, turned pale, and the cake fell out of his hands. He started to turn away to bustle out of sight.
Oh, no he didn't.
"Master Sonozika, wait!" Satoko called as she quickened her pace. Immediately Gendou Sonozika's guards placed themselves between him and her, hands on the hilts of their swords.
However, Satoko was not to be deterred so easily. "Master Sonozika, I have been trying to gain an audience with you for months!" she called over the large men's shoulders. "You're not going to duck me any further!"
"I'm busy!" he shouted over his shoulder. "I'm a very busy man, so you can just wait your turn like everyone-"
"You coward!" Satoko shouted.
The general hubbub of the market had lowered when Satoko had first started shouting. This killed the rest entirely, as everyone, purveyor and purchaser alike, all turned to stare at the drama unfolding. Those who knew who Satoko was and why she was directly calling out the Human Leader in public were as entranced as the children were with the storyteller's tale at the other end of the market, while those who didn't were watching with both confusion and interest, eager to see what the fuss was all about.
As for Master Sonozika, he froze in mid-step. He was a lot of things, but thick-skinned was not one of them. Satoko knew enough about him through their increasingly infrequent dealings to know how much he hated being embarrassed, especially in front of everyone.
Sure enough, when he slowly turned toward her, his sweaty and pasty face had now turned bright red with indignation.
"Excuse me?" he said.
"You heard me!" Satoko called back. "Are you really so scared of an aging woman trying to take care of a bunch of parentless children that you won't even hear her out?"
The shade of Gendou's face darkened, and he looked about ready to order her to be carried off. But then he glanced at what was happening around him.
The onlookers were starting to whisper amongst themselves, and Satoko found that she was able to tell who was from the Human Village and who dwelt in one of the smaller settlements. By and large, those who hailed from the species' capital looked annoyed by the insult. How dare she, they were no doubt thinking. How dare she openly insult the Leader like that? She knew well why he was refusing to speak with her. She had his answer, she knew why, so she ought to just accept it with grace!
But those who lived outside of the Human Village's walls were of a different sort of mind. She saw several disapproving glances and scowls directed toward Master Sonozika as well. The last few years had brought along several changes to how the Humans interacted with their neighbors, and not all were in agreement. It was a little ironic, in that those who were most frequently at the mercy of Gensokyo's wild denizens and thus were susceptible to various superstitions were actually less controlled by the fear of them. Sure, many of them could get on board with the strict anti-youkai rhetoric Master Sonozika often spouted. Even Satoko had found herself hard pressed to disagree, considering that her life was devoted to protecting the victims of youkai attacks. But what many of them could never understand is why that rhetoric extended to those victims.
Regardless, the challenge had been thrown down, and now everyone was watching. Gendou's guards could stop Satoko from physically reaching him, but there was no blocking her words.
Gendou bristled, but he managed to refrain from lashing out. "Fine," he growled. "But not here." He pointed toward a nearby tent. "There."
He stomped toward the tent, and thankfully the guards moved to let Satoko through. Sighing with nervous relief, she hurried after him, with the guards taking position outside the entrance.
Inside the tent several middle-aged men were sitting in a circle, playing a game that involved tossing several multi-colored clumps of herbs into a fire and taking bets on which color the resulting puff of smoke would take. They looked up in irritation as Master Sonozika and Satoko entered.
"Hey, this is a private-" one of them started to say, but then the words caught in his throat when he recognized the intruder. "Oh. Uh, M-Master Sonozika! This is an-"
"Out!" Master Sonozika barked.
He didn't need to tell them twice. The group hastily obeyed, taking their herbs and money with them but leaving the fire. Master Sonozika sighed and extended his hand toward the flame. A bubble of condensed vacuum shot from his fingers to envelop the fire, swallowing all of the oxygen and snuffing it out. It then filled with the resulting cloud of smoke and rose up through the hole in the ceiling, leaving nothing but smoldering embers.
"All right, woman," Master Sonozika growled as he sat down across from the fire's remains. "You have your audience, waste of time though it may be. Say your piece so we can both go back to where we belong."
Satoko was a very patient and very tolerant woman. One didn't devote one's life to looking after so many children without building up a healthy reserve of both. But there were certain attitudes for which she had neither. "You haven't even heard what I want to say," she said.
"Why should I?" Master Sonozika demanded. "I already know what it is. You want permission to move your entire orphanage inside the Human Village's walls. And I already told you that we simply do not have-"
"You've expanded the Village's borders twice in the last five years," Satoko interrupted. "Twice! And I happen to know for a fact that the Human Village's population growth isn't anywhere near large enough to justify all that space."
"It's not just space, and do not interrupt me again if you want this conversation to continue," Master Sonozika warned. "It's also a matter of resources. If I recall, you're looking after, what, nineteen of them?"
"Eighteen," Satoko corrected.
"Eighteen then. Plus you, plus your…associates. That's over twenty bodies, over twenty hungry mouths, all thrown into our community all at once!"
Satoko sighed. "I'm not asking you to feed them," she said, though yes, that would have been appreciated. "We get by on our own, and can keep doing so. I'm just asking that you allow us the protection that literally everyone else gets. These children are the only ones that aren't allowed in! Why? We'd been talking for years about moving the orphanage into the Village, but all of a sudden you just shut that down, refuse to let them even come in to visit, and won't even see me to tell me why!"
Master Sonozika's sagging jowls clenched up. "Do not presume to speak to me in such-"
"It was your idea! You were the one to suggested bringing the Children's Home into the Village, remember? You told me that it was your responsibility to look after all Humans, especially youkai victims! What changed, Gendou? What changed?"
To this, Master Sonozika said nothing. He just glared.
"It was that man, isn't it?" Satoko said.
There was a pause, and then Gendou said, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I knew it," Satoko sighed. "Ever since he showed up with his angry ideas and angry religion-"
"The Human Village opens its arms to all faiths!" Master Sonozika said. "Even the strange ones from the Outside!"
"So do I! One of them works at the orphanage, and you won't find a kinder, more gentle soul! But the version spoken of by that man Skinner, all this talk of curses and taints and judgments, how can that be good?"
"Nathaniel Skinner has been nothing but a boon to the Human Village," Master Sonozika said primly. "We may not share the same, ah, theologies, but I trust his judgment."
"His judgment? That children that have lost their families to youkai attacks are somehow cursed? That letting them in the Village will spread this supposed curse?"
"Youkai are wily beasts," Master Sonozika said in a prim tone. "You ought to know, you practically live among them."
Satoko nearly snapped at him about how not all youkai were malicious monsters, that many were at worse just playful and mischievous, that many were in fact quite benevolent, but she didn't. What good would it do to someone as pigheaded as Gendou Sonozika? "And one would think that someone who-" she stopped herself half-a-second before the word fear slipped from her tongue, "mistrusts youkai as you would be more sympathetic to their victims," she said instead. "Most of these children lost their families to youkai attacks. You ought to be protecting them, to be sheltering them, not casting them out! How can you claim to protect Humans from the threat of youkai if you won't lift a finger to help their most obvious victims?"
Anger flared up in Gendou Sonozika's beady little eyes. "By reminding myself that I am responsible for Humanity as a whole, and not just a small handful. Sometimes, a limb must be lopped off to prevent the spread of infection. It is regrettable, yes, but I serve the greater good, and in service of that good, sometimes sacrifices must be made."
Satoko Yume was not a violent person. Oh, she was not afraid to fight when provoked, and few things were more provoking than threatening the safety of her kids, but she was not given to violent urges. But she had never wanted to ball her fingers into a fist and thrust that first into the infuriating face of another Human more than she did at that moment in time.
She didn't, though less out of principle and more out of the knowledge that doing so would only make things worse for her and her family. So instead, she yanked back on all of that anger, keeping it from bursting out, and reformed it, molding it from a red-hot explosion of fury into something sharper, something more focused, turning the flame into venom.
"It has been my experience," Satoko said, lacing every syllable with that venom. "That those who speak of the necessity of making sacrifices never think to include themselves as possible sacrifices. Only others."
"Satoko, do not-"
"And what if it was your family, your children, that was afflicted with this curse, this taint? Would you be so quick to sacrifice them as well?"
Gendou Sonozika abruptly stood up. "Enough," he growled.
Satoko was on her feet as well, but a moment later she realized that one word was more than just a command, it was a signal to the guards waiting outside, because moments later she felt thick, strong hands wrap themselves around her slender biceps.
Still, she didn't break gaze with the Human Leader, and though it was childish, she did take some small petty pleasure over how much he had to incline his head to meet her gaze.
"This conversation," he seethed through clenched teeth, "is over. The answer is no, and it's always going to be no. Do not waste my time again."
A few seconds ticked by, and then Satoko bowed her head. "Of course," she said. "My…apologies." She stared at the smear of honey still on his upper lip. "I can, of course, see how valuable your time is."
…
"Look at this, my sweet little thing," the shrouded woman cooed. From within her cloak she withdrew some kind of charm. It was made of strange bones and shells, all hanging from strings from a silver framework. In its center was what looked like a shrunk-down Human skull, one the size of a pebble. "The secret to eternal life."
Rumia quirked an eyebrow. The charm did look pretty cool, but that was quite the claim. She glanced over to Kohta, who looked just as incredulous as she was, and then to Keine, who seemed a little more interested.
Kana, however, was absolutely fascinated. "Oh, is that so?" she said. "Fascinating!"
"Ah, it is, isn't it?" The shrouded woman's hand gently ran over the tiny skull, caressing its smooth dome. "And it provides what all mortals secretly long for. Life after death, for as long as you like."
"Wait, hold up," Kohta said. "You just said that this thing'll give us eternal life. Now you're saying that we'll dies anyway?"
The shrouded woman shrugged. "What is death, but a natural transition from one state of being to another? When our bodies expire, our souls depart for the River Suzune to be taken to be judged. But what if they didn't? What if, after leaving our bodies, we could stay? Thinks about it. You'd never have to leave your friends, never have to worry about getting sick or growing old. You would get to be good little girls and good little boys. Forever."
"As ghosts," Rumia said flatly.
Melissa shot her a confused look. "I am…sorry. I do not know this word. What is…ghosts?"
"Really, Melissa? Out of all the words…" Rumia sighed. "Um, ghosts. You know, souls of dead people walking around." She wiggled her fingers in the air. "Ooooooooooo!"
Melissa's eyes widened. "Oh! El fantasma! These are…" Her face scrunched up as she mentally searched for the right word. "These are real here?"
Kohta rolled his eyes.
"Real?" For a second the shrouded lady dropped her weird, singsong way of talking and just sounded confused. "Of course they're real. My grandma used to have to clear the damned things out of her cellar all the time. Why wouldn't they be real?"
"For shit's sake," Kohta muttered.
"She's…from the Outside World," Rumia told her. "I guess they don't have ghosts there."
"We…We do!" Melissa said, albeit a bit defensively. "But mostly in, um, what is the word, stories, right?"
"Right."
"Yes, in stories! I have never seen them though."
"Yeah, well, you're lucky then. Seriously though, who would want to be a ghost? They just wander around annoying people. Which, okay, would be fun for like a week, but after that…"
"Oh, I don't know," Kana mused. "It seems like a fine time!
"Ah! But you see, that this the genius of this little beauty." The woman tapped her finger against the charm, making the bones knock against each other. "For most ghosts are merely wicked spirits that refused to cross the River Suzune and thus degraded, losing all sense of who and what they were. Who would want to go on such a state?"
"Not all of them," Keine said. "Poltergeists don't."
"Polter-what?" Melissa said.
"Keine, seriously?" Kohta said.
"You understand!" The shrouded lady jabbed a finger at Keine and cackled. "Yes, poltergeists keep their shape, their names, and their memories. But they are mere shades, copies of those who have passed! The souls have still passed on." She lovingly pressed the charm against her cheek and sighed. "But with this…with this, you need not fear this at all! With this enchantment, a poltergeist will still be created from your death, yes, but it will contain your soul! The two will remain one forever and ever, and you will never-"
"-ever come near these kids again if you know what's good for you," growled Miss Mokou as she seized the shrouded lady by the back of her cloak and lifted her high into the air with one hand. "Because if you do, you're gonna find out just how well that little bauble of yours works. And given the quality of most of the crap around here, I don't think that's a die you wanna throw. Got it?"
Rumia, Kohta, and Keine all blanched. Where in the hell had she come from? One moment it had just been them, and the next Miss Mokou was simply there, filling the space behind the cloaked woman.
Then Rumia noticed something else out of place. While the woman had first approached them at the opening of the alley, they were now almost all the way down its length. She had been leading them away from the market as they talked, and they hadn't even noticed. As someone who prided herself in the fine art of trickery, Rumia was both impressed and deeply freaked out.
Judging by the panicked look on the cloaked woman's face, it was clear that she was just as taken by surprise as they all were. "Let me go!" she squealed as she futilely swung her hands about. "Let me go or I swear-"
Then she caught sight of Miss Mokou's face. "You!" she gasped.
Miss Mokou's eyes flashed. And by that, she didn't just get even more angry. No, they literally flashed, sparks shooting through her maroon corneas like a stone striking flint. "Good, you recognize me," she said as she gripped the cloaked woman's face with her other hand, squeezing the cheeks and holding her jaw shut. "Then you probably know the sort of things I'm good at. So I'm gonna give you this one warning: you run off now and never, ever come near any of these kids again, or you get to find out firsthand how true the stories are. Understand?"
The cloaked woman quickly nodded.
Miss Mokou released just a little pressure on her face. "I want to hear you say it."
"I understand!" the cloaked woman squeaked. "I'll leave them alone, I swear!"
"Good." Then Miss Mokou hurled her all the way down the alley. "Now get!"
The cloaked woman hastily gathered herself up and scampered away. Also, she had suddenly lost the hunch in her back and the need for her cane.
Rumia was struck speechless. She knew that that Miss Mokou had a nasty past. She knew that she was probably a scary person. But she had never thought that she was that scary.
The others were just as stunned. And terrified.
Miss Mokou was panting heavily. Not from exertion though. Rather, she seemed to be working very hard to pull something back, as if just scaring that woman had almost let something out, something she had been straining to conceal this whole time.
Rumia exchanged uncomfortable looks with Kohta. Melissa was literally shaking in her shoes. Even Kana, who never seemed to be on the same page as anyone, was cowering behind Kohta.
As for Keine, she nervously cleared her throat and ventured with, "Uh, M-Miss Mokou…"
Miss Mokou held up a palm, stopping her. She straightened up and squeezed her eyes shut. Every muscle in her body went tense.
Rumia involuntarily braced herself.
But then Miss Mokou relaxed. She let out the breath she had been holding in a long, belabored sigh. She didn't open her eyes though. "Okay," she said, her voice calm but incredibly scary. "Now, whose dumbass idea was it to separate from the rest of the group and go off with the creepy old lady and potentially end the day baked into a pie crust?"
Rumia reflexively started to raise her hand, as did Kohta and Keine. But Kana suddenly stepped forward. "It was me," she admitted.
Rumia stared at her in surprise, and she wasn't the only one. Even Miss Mokou seemed taken back by Kana's sudden bout of lunacy.
"She said she knew how to make someone live forever," Kana said. "And, well, with all the things I've been hearing about how the youkai have us marked, I thought…" She scuffed the ground with her shoe. "Well, I thought…"
All of the anger went out of Miss Mokou's face. "Oh, for the love of-" Then she sighed and knelt down in front of Kana. Placing a hand on the blonde girl's shoulder, Miss Mokou said, "Look, Kana. You're going to hear people say a lot of things, and most of it is totally stupid. I've heard people talk too, about how just because youkai got your families it means that you are somehow tainted. And guess what? It's all bullshit, a dumb story made up by dumb people. There are dangerous youkai out there, yes, but they're not after any of you more than anyone else. Even the meanest, nastiest ones are just looking for an easy meal, and they won't bother you if you stay where it's safe."
Kana looked less than reassured. "Okay. But-"
"Also, if someone starts talking to you about living forever, that's a sure sign that they're full of crap," Miss Mokou continued. "Ninety-nine percent of the time it's just some obvious scam that ends up getting some overconfident fool killed anyway while the person who sold it to them runs away laughing. And even in the one percent of times that it's legit…" The muscles in Miss Mokou's jaw tightened. "Well. Living forever isn't like the stories made it out to be."
"But dying is worse!" Kana blurted out. "You can be the best person ever, you can take care of yourself and do everything healthy, but you still die, and then everyone you love is left alone! How is that fair?"
Miss Mokou sighed. "It ain't. None of it is. But neither is being the one left alone after everyone you love is gone." She took Kana by the hand. "Come on, kids. Forget this nonsense about living forever, and for the love of all that is sane, if you're worried about dying, then don't follow creepy freaks into alleys! That's like one of the first rules about self-preservation, which is something you all could stand to have a little more of."
…
Joshua Stump looked at the list in his hand. Haruhi was taking care of food, Mokou was supposed to be handling the fabrics, so he had been given responsibility of the odds and ends.
And there were quite a few. They needed nails, paint, more lumber, as well as cigarettes for Mokou. He couldn't stand the smell of the things and didn't know why she liked them so much, but that was her business, and as far as he was concerned she had earned the right to her vices.
As Joshua wandered the stalls, he took a turn that brought him through a sort of alleyway between two tents. And as he did, he found himself running into the principle reason for his dislike of tobacco.
He smelled him before he saw him, the thick, cloying scent of cigar smoke mixed with the sickly sweet stench of patchoulis, with just a hint of sweat. It was a bizarre mixture, and not in the slightest bit pleasant.
Joshua winced. He knew that he ought not shun another brother in Christ, especially considering how few of them there were in Gensokyo, but there was something about Nathaniel Skinner that made him profoundly uncomfortable.
Then a heavy hand sheathed in a thick leather glove clapped him on the shoulder. "Ah, brother Joshua!" Skinner said in his deep, smooth voice. "I was hoping to see you here."
Sighing, Joshua turned around.
Nathaniel Skinner was, like Joshua, an Outsider, someone who had been born outside of Gensokyo only to later wander in and become stuck. He was a white man from America apparently, one that would have been considered noticeably tall back home, but here, where the average height was several centimeters shorter, he towered over everyone. He had a thick, golden beard; a ruddy complexion; and piercing blue eyes that he had recently taken to shrouding with a pair of round-lensed sunglasses. As always, he was wearing a long, brown trench coat; brown gloves, a brown hat with a wide brim; thick brown boots; a white shirt; and blue jeans. Around his neck hung a large silver crucifix, though unlike Joshua's this one was not empty and a tiny Jesus hanging suspended from it, his arms outstretched and his face twisted into a cry of pure agony. One gloved hand was clutching it tightly.
"Nathaniel," Joshua said with as much warmth as he could muster.
Skinner smiled. "Brother Nathaniel," he corrected. "That is what we are, is we not?"
He moved to embrace Joshua. Joshua, who had been anticipating this, tolerated and returned the gesture.
"Of course," Joshua said. "So, what brings you here? You're not usually one to go to market."
Skinner placed his hands on his hips and sighed. "No, I'm not. Actually, I rarely leave the Human Village these days."
"So I've heard."
"Have you?" Skinner reached up with one hand and took off his sunglasses, revealing his pale blue eyes. Joshua frankly wished that he had left them on. "I imagine you've been hearing some other things as well."
Joshua shrugged. "Well, I heard you've become very close with Master Sonozika. He seems to value your opinion."
Tapping his folded-up sunglasses against his palm, Skinner glanced out through the alley at the people. "Well, yes. Gendou is…a surprisingly smart man for someone native to this…this place. Very perceptive. That's why I'm here, actually. He asked me to accompany him, to take a look at things and offer my…opinion."
"Oh? Looking to spread the good news, then?"
Skinner's brow furrowed up in puzzlement. "Pardon?"
"The good news," Joshua repeated. "Of Jesus Christ."
There was a pause, and then Skinner put his sunglasses back on. "Oh. Of course. Always." He glanced back at the crowd and sighed. "Walk with me, Brother Joshua."
The two Outsiders moved away from the bustle of the crowd. As they did, Skinner said, "Have you given any thought to my suggestions?"
Joshua sighed. "You mean, leave the orphanage, move into the Village, be part of your, um, your…"
"Church," Skinner said. "Fellowship. Brotherhood."
"Right. That."
"There are so few Christians here in this…this forsaken country. We need to stick together, you know. Safety in numbers. And strength."
Safety. Strength. Words of a threatened man. "I see."
"I've been slowly building a congregation there. Most don't want to hear the Gospel. They keep to their backwater superstitions and shut out the Word."
"Well, it's hard to blame them," Joshua said. "I mean, you call them superstitions, but when you can actually go up to one of their gods and introduce yourself…"
Skinner came to an abrupt stop.
"Their gods…" Skinner repeated in disbelief. "There is one God, Brother Joshua. Only one."
Joshua sighed. "Of course."
"These spirits of theirs, these gods and fairies and youkai…you know, there is a word for a spirits not aligned with the Father."
Maybe so, but it did seem that most of the local "demons" did more to help the orphanage than the actual Humans. Donations and other forms of support from the Human Village had been on a steep decline over the last few years. Right.
"You would do well to remember that," Skinner continued. "That's why I think you ought to join me. I worry about you, you know. You are often in my prayers."
The reverse was true as well, though Joshua doubted that Skinner's prayers for him used the same language.
"Oh?" Joshua said.
Skinner nodded. "Having someone as strong in their faith as you around would be…be helpful, yes, but you live so far out in the Wilds, out in those savage and untamed lands, with so many wicked spirits about. It's dangerous, Brother Joshua. The Human Village…" He shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly Philadelphia, but it's the best that this godforsaken place has. Out there…you never know when the demonic forces might come calling."
Right. It was time to stop beating around the bush. "Well now, as it so happens, Satoko's been pushing to move the orphanage inside the Village," Joshua said. "You know, she believes as you do, that it's just too dangerous to have all those children so far from civilization." He smiled. "Unfortunately, she hasn't had much success with that, but seeing how Master Sonozika seems to value you advice so much, perhaps you could put in a word for her?"
As predicted, Skinner was less than enthused by the suggestion. "And bring those children," he said, staring.
"Yes."
"Inside the Village."
"Uh, yes. That would be the point."
Skinner slowly shook his head. "Brother Joshua, I was referring to you specifically."
Joshua finally let some of the anger he had felt building seep into his voice and countenance. "You know I'm not going to do that, Nathaniel. I'm not leaving those children."
Skinner scowled from behind his glasses. "Your compassion for them is…well, it's admirable I suppose, but-"
"Look. Nathaniel. Let's speak plainly, all right? I know there's been talk about curses and taints and other such nonsense about those who've had any sort of dealings with youkai. I know people have started to call the kids, oh what was it, youkai-touched? And it isn't exactly much of a secret that you're at the center of it. Now, I have devoted my life to helping take care of those children in any way I can, and if you and Sonozika are bound and determined to keep them exiled out in the Wilds, then I'm staying there with them."
Skinner sucked in air through his teeth. "That is…well, it's a mite disappointing, I won't lie."
"If memory serves, Jesus was pretty specific about what He thought of those who would turn children away," Joshua pointed out.
Then Skinner's scowl darkened into outright hostility. "If memory serves, He was also pretty specific of the ultimate fate of heathens and heretics, children and adult alike! Were the children of Jericho spared? Or those of the Egyptians?"
"That's enough, Skinner," Joshua said flatly. He turned to walk away. "I'm not having this conversation anymore."
"Close your ears and your eyes all you want!" Skinner shouted. "But you're still-"
"So, hey," Mokou said as she walked up to the two men. "What's the big commotion over here?"
Joshua nearly stumbled. With her bright red suspenders and the charms tied into her hair, Mokou didn't exactly blend in, but he hadn't even heard her approach. How did she do that?
And yet here she was, hands in her pockets as she calmly surveyed the scene. Hanging back a ways behind her were five of the children, specifically Rumia Yagami, Kohta Momori, Keine Kamishirasawa, Kana Anaberal, and Melissa Garcia.
Skinner, it should be noted, nearly leapt right out of his coat when she appeared. "And who is this?" he demanded.
Joshua cleared his throat. "Um, this is Fujiwara no Mokou. Our cook."
"Your…cook. Hmmm." Skinner looked Mokou up and down. Mokou was tall for a Japanese woman, and tended to look over most crowds, but Skinner was a full head taller than even she. And yet, now that Joshua saw them standing next to one another, it didn't seem that way. "Well, that's appropriate I guess, but why is she wearing pants and a man's shirt?"
Mokou quirked an eyebrow. "Tough talk from a guy dressed like a literal pile of crap. Josh, who's this joker?
The rational part of Joshua told him to hustle Mokou away before the two came to blows, while the rest was curious to see how that would turn out. "Mokou, this is, uh, Nathaniel Skinner. He, uh, from the Human Village, and-"
"No. I am from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, of the United States of America!" Skinner snapped, though he kept his focus on Mokou. "But I don't expect you to know any of that!"
Mokou shrugged. "Well, goody for you. I'm from the Fujiwara estate of the Kansai region, but I don't expect you to know any of that. So now that we know each other's names and agree that neither of us knows or cares where the other is actually from, why exactly are you bothering my friend for?"
Skinner turned to Joshua. "Is she…accustomed to intruding upon men's conversations?"
"Hey." Mokou snapped her fingers in Skinner's ear. "Jackass. I'm right here. You can talk to me directly."
Skinner shook his head. "Brother Joshua, I'm disappointed. You used to be a smart man, but now look at the kind of company you keep. I pray that God opens your eyes one of these days, before it's too late." Then, without another word, he turned and stormed off.
Joshua and Mokou watched him storm off.
"Charming fellow," Mokou wryly remarked. "Friend of yours?"
"Once," Joshua admitted.
"Oh yeah? When was that?"
"Oh, about seventeen years ago, when we first came to Gensokyo." Joshua shook his head. "I'm…sorry about that. He was always, ah, troubled, and relied on his faith for control."
"Oh yeah? How'd that work out?"
Joshua thought for a moment, and then admitted, "With mixed results."
"Sounds like the former's informing the latter now."
"I don't disagree. He didn't use to be this, ah, zealous, but ever since he came to Gensokyo, he's…changed."
"Well, if the stories I've heard are true, he's also been busy changing everyone else," Mokou said, folding her arms. "I guess he's the one to blame for all the trouble we've been having with the Human Village?"
Joshua winced. "Yes, I think so."
"Hmmm." Mokou didn't comment much past that, but the look she gave him spoke volumes. This conversation wasn't over, that much was for certain.
Then, from where they were still standing, Rumia suddenly started jumping up and down and waving her hand. "Uh, Mr. Joshua? Miss Mokou? Hello!"
The urgency in her voice drew their attention immediately. The children were all focused on something happening in the market. Rumia was jumping up and down as she waved them over.
"Uh, some of the kids just got into a fight!" she said. "And it looks crazy!"