Chapter 32
Late Night at the Scarlet Devil Mansion – Inside the Library
The library of the Scarlet Devil Mansion was so quiet that only the sound of pages turning could be heard.
Moonlight streamed through the window, mingling with the candlelight to illuminate the vast space. Patchouli sat at a long table, holding a bowl of steaming herbal soup.
The rich aroma drifted up, warmth seeping into her fingertips—and her heart.
Tamami sat quietly across from her, his gaze gentle as he waited for her reaction.
Patchouli took a small sip, closing her eyes to savor the warmth that slid down her throat and spread throughout her body.
"…It tastes nice," she said softly, her tone carrying a faint, nearly imperceptible warmth.
Tamami smiled lightly, his voice casual: "I'm glad you like it. I adjusted the ratio of the ingredients a little—it should be better suited to your constitution this way, and more effective for easing your asthma."
Patchouli didn't reply. She simply took another sip, her expression complicated. She recalled that night before the aphrodisiac incident—when she had mustered the courage to confess her feelings to Tamami, even scoffing at his promise to "cure her asthma" as a fairy tale.
But in the months that followed, he had brought her custom-made snacks and meals every time he visited the mansion, always considering her health, adjusting her constitution bit by bit. Even though she rarely said anything, he never stopped.
And tonight, something in Patchouli's eyes was different.
After finishing the last sip, she gently set down the bowl, then lifted her gaze toward Tamami. Her deep violet eyes held a trace of barely concealed confusion and unease.
"Tamami…" she said softly, her voice unusually hesitant and uncertain. "I want to know… in your eyes, what exactly… am I?"
Tamami froze, the smile on his face faltering slightly. He clearly hadn't expected such a question.
"Patchouli? Why would you ask something like that…?"
Patchouli lowered her head, her hands tightly clutching the hem of her dress. Her voice carried a hint of self-mockery, but also a stubborn trace of resentment.
"You're always so kind to me. Every time you come to the Scarlet Devil Mansion, you bring food to nourish my body... But…"
She looked up, her violet eyes tinged with a hint of sorrow.
"You treat Sanae, Yuyuko, Kaguya… and even Flan the same way, don't you? They're all more radiant than I am…"
Tamami was stunned for a moment. Only then did he realize the turmoil and comparison swirling in Patchouli's heart.
Patchouli let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Her voice was barely stronger than a whisper.
"Sanae is cheerful and always brings hope. Yuyuko is gentle and mysterious—her smile makes people forget all their worries. Kaguya is noble and stunning—beyond compare. And Flan… her innocent sweetness just makes you want to protect her."
"As for me… I'm just a weak girl buried in books all day. I can't do anything. I have nothing."
Her voice trailed off lower and lower, nearly inaudible.
"Sometimes I wonder… if I even deserve your attention."
With that, she lowered her head again. Strands of violet hair fell to hide the emotions in her eyes.
"…I just want to know—what am I, to you?"
The air seemed to freeze. The candle flames flickered slightly. Tamami's heart ached at her words.
He stood and walked over, kneeling before her so their eyes were level.
"Patchouli…" he said gently, his tone sincere and soft. "Why do you look down on yourself like this?"
"Sanae, Yuyuko, Kaguya, Flan… Each of them has their own unique light. And you… you have your own brilliance, too."
Patchouli blinked, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"My… brilliance?"
"You're the wisest, calmest, most rational person in the Scarlet Devil Mansion. You've helped everyone through so many difficulties. You protect Gensokyo in your own way—quietly, but surely. That is your brilliance."
He paused, then gently took her hand, his voice growing even more tender.
"You say you're not as dazzling as they are—but to me, your light is one of a kind. You're Patchouli Knowledge—my Patchouli. I want you to be healthy. I want you to run and play freely under the sun. Not because you need to change—but because I want you to have more choices, more happiness."
Patchouli's eyes widened slightly, a thin mist of tears gathering in her violet pupils. Her lips trembled, as if trying to speak but finding no words.
"Tamami…" she called his name softly, her voice trembling. "Why are you so kind to me…?"
Tamami smiled and leaned in, gently touching his forehead to hers.
"Because… you're the most precious bond I have."
Patchouli's body stiffened for a brief second, then a single tear slid down her cheek.
She didn't say anything more. She simply leaned forward and rested her forehead against his chest, sinking into his warmth and the sense of security he gave her.
Looking at this man who was always so tender it was almost unbearable, Patchouli felt an uncontrollable wave of emotion rise within her.
"Tamami…" she whispered. Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward—and kissed him.
Tamami's eyes flew wide open, clearly caught off guard by Patchouli's sudden move. But the softness of her trembling lips held him still for a moment—then he gently closed his eyes, responding to her sudden, heartfelt kiss.
Patchouli's kiss was cautious yet deeply sincere, as if she was entrusting him with all the loneliness and longing she had buried in her heart for over a century.
Moments later, Patchouli pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed and her breathing faintly hurried. She looked into Tamami's eyes, her voice laced with a quiet firmness and affection:
"I don't want you to see me as just someone who needs to be taken care of… I want to be someone irreplaceable in your heart."
Tamami gently raised his hand, brushing her cheek with infinite tenderness.
"Patchouli… you already are someone irreplaceable to me."
A beat passed. Almost unconsciously, his hands found their way to her waist—but he quickly paused, pulling back slightly as he spoke in a low, careful voice:
"Patchouli… may I?"
His voice trembled gently, filled with warmth and respect, like he feared disturbing the woman in his arms.
With his usual sincerity, he cupped her face in his hands, his fingers brushing through her soft hair, his gaze full of care and caution. His tone held a touch of awkward innocence:
"If you're not willing… I'll stop immediately."
A faint blush spread across Patchouli's face. She bit her lower lip and cut him off in a low voice:
"Idiot… I made the first move, and you're still asking something like that?"
Though her words carried a hint of exasperation, her tone was more bashful and filled with barely hidden affection.
She lifted her head again, locking eyes with his, her voice serious and steady in a way she rarely allowed herself to be:
"Tamami, I'm willing. I don't want to run away anymore. I don't want to keep doubting. I just want to feel this happiness that belongs to us."
Tamami stared at her in stunned silence for a moment—then a gentle, radiant smile bloomed on his lips. He reached out and softly caressed her cheek, whispering:"Patchouli… thank you. For giving me your heart."
Patchouli leaned in again, kissing him once more—this time more fully, more earnestly. As she felt him respond, the uncertainty and self-doubt deep in her soul began to melt away.
Tamami's hands slowly moved to her back, pulling her gently into an embrace, as if telling her through his touch that he would protect her with everything he had.
In the flickering candlelight, the two of them kissed as though they had forgotten the world, lost in each other's warmth and heartbeat. Their bond, in that moment, deepened more than ever before.
Soon, Patchouli's breath grew unsteady. She leaned gently against Tamami's shoulder, her cheeks flushed deeper.
"Idiot… after this, how could I pretend nothing happened…" she murmured, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper, tinged with shyness and sweet dependence.
Tamami chuckled softly and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"You don't have to pretend anything, Patchouli. You can always be yourself. No matter what form that takes—I'll always be by your side."
Patchouli slowly closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. A faint, contented smile played on her lips. In the wavering light of the candles, their forms intertwined…
In the soft glow, Patchouli's figure appeared even more graceful. Her head dipped slightly, the flush on her cheeks deepening with every beat of her heart.
Raising her hands, she gently undid the sash of her robe. Her signature lavender garment slipped slowly off her shoulders, revealing a slender, elegant form.
Her shoulders trembled slightly. Her pale skin gleamed under the flickering candlelight, like a flawless piece of living art.
Her figure was delicate, refined without being fragile, her chest full yet modest—exuding an understated, noble allure.
Even though they had shared a similar moment before, she still felt shy. That shyness only added to her quiet beauty.
She removed her iconic cap. Her long, smooth violet hair cascaded freely over her shoulders and back. The light played upon her strands, deepening the color into a mesmerizing shade.
Her collarbones were fine and defined, her slender neck radiating an effortless elegance.
"You're so beautiful, Patchouli…" Tamami whispered, his gaze overflowing with adoration. "I promise… no matter how long it takes, I'll stay with you. And… your asthma—we've already healed half of it. In a little while, it'll be completely cured. Trust me, okay?"
Patchouli's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions.
The doubts and self-loathing that had haunted her for years were swept away by his words. She looked up at him—at his unwavering, gentle gaze—and a quiet, moved smile tugged at her lips.
"Tamami… do you really believe in me that much?"
"Of course," Tamami replied with a soft smile, brushing her cheek again with conviction in his voice.
"You're Patchouli Knowledge—the greatest magician I know, and the most important person in my life. I believe in you, and I want you to believe in me too."
"Tamami…" she whispered his name, her voice tinged with fragility and yearning. "I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to doubt my worth anymore… Tonight, I belong only to you."
Tamami blinked, then smiled warmly. He reached out and gently held her hand, pulling her into his arms.
"Patchouli, thank you for trusting me… I'll give you everything I have to make sure you feel loved."
Patchouli moved her hands toward his robe, fingers working slowly to unfasten the buttons. Her motions were a little clumsy, her blush deepening—but her determined gaze revealed her resolve.
When Tamami's robes slipped to the floor, he gently clasped her hand, lowering his head to kiss her again.
The kiss was filled with tenderness and devotion—an unspoken vow to always stay by her side, no matter what the future held.
Patchouli's body trembled slightly, but in his warmth and affection, she surrendered herself completely.
"Tamami…" she called his name sweetly, clinging to him with loving dependence. "Will you really stay with me forever?"
Tamami pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice unwavering and full of love:
"I already told you. No matter how long it takes, I'll make sure you're healthy. I'll help you run freely under the sun. And I'll stay with you, Patchouli—always."
Tamami lowered his head, pressing gentle kisses to her collarbone and sliding down to the soft swell of her chest.
Each kiss was tender and meticulous, brimming with endless affection, until he reached that delicate, cherry‑pink peak.
The tip of his tongue brushed lightly across it, every movement full of careful devotion, as if tasting the sweetest fruit in the world.
Patchouli's body trembled; her hands clutched him tighter, cheeks blazing as her breaths came in delighted gasps.
She whispered, "Tamami… d‑don't… be so gentle… if you keep this up, I'll…"—her voice thick with shyness and longing.
Tamami lifted his head, gazing at her with deep warmth. "Patchouli, you're so beautiful—how could I be anything but careful?"
He drew her into his arms, fingers gliding through her hair, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Reclining on the soft chair, Patchouli—whose amethyst eyes usually shone with intellect and calm—now let a timid shimmer surface.
A deep blush colored her cheeks as she cast a hesitant, expectant glance at Tamami.
Sensing the unspoken invitation in her eyes, Tamami's lips curved into a gentle smile. His voice was low: "Patchouli… shall I go on? If you're unwilling, I'll stop at once."
Though too embarrassed to meet his gaze, Patchouli didn't refuse. A tiny nod was all the permission he needed.
Tamami carefully parted her legs, fingertips gliding over her pale skin with infinite tenderness. Gazing at her with heartfelt affection, he leaned in and nestled his face between her thighs.
"Ta‑Tamami—!" Patchouli's startled cry rang with bashful disbelief as her body tensed, hands twisting the blanket beneath her. Her cheeks burned crimson, eyes wide with shock at his directness.
"There's nothing to fear, Patchouli…" Tamami raised his head, planting a light kiss on her knee. His voice held endless patience and fondness. "I just want you to relax…."
Hearing him, tears shimmered in Patchouli's eyes. She bit her lip, the warmth of his care dissolving her tension.
As Tamami lowered his head again, devoted to cherishing her, soft murmurs escaped her lips. The walls of logic she'd built through years of solitude crumbled completely under his gentle touch.
"Tamami…" she whispered, blush spreading to the tips of her ears. "For the rest of my life… let me entrust myself to you, you sweet, clueless fool."
The Scarlet Devil Mansion was as quiet as ever; only the dim candlelight warmed the library's air.
Down the corridor, Koakuma floated toward the door with a steaming cup of coffee, her usual cheerful smile in place.
"Patchouli-Sama, I've brought your coffee~"
She tapped lightly on the door, voice polite and gentle—but there was no reply. Instead, peculiar sounds drifted out, making her freeze.
Slap—slap—slap—
Rhythmic impacts, mixed with the faint scrape of a table—and, between them, Patchouli's breathless murmurs:
"Mm‑ah… Tamami… so deep… too thick… I'm… ah… ah‑ah… you're kissing my womb…!"
Koakuma's face flushed crimson; her grip on the tray tightened as her scarlet eyes went round with shock.
"Wh‑what?" she whispered, torn between leaving at once and the pull of irresistible curiosity.
"Patchouli-Sama… are you all right?" Hovering, she eased the door open a crack and peeked inside—then froze completely.
Inside, the candles flickered. Tamami cradled Patchouli, both nearly naked and entwined. Half‑reclined on the desk, her lavender hair spread in disarray, Patchouli's petite form was wrapped entirely in his embrace.
Tamami's lips traced her collarbone while his hand caressed her waist, every motion tender. Patchouli clutched his shoulders, soft moans spilling forth: "Mm… Tamami… gentler… it's so deep… ah…"
Koakuma's mind went blank; her face felt aflame, hands trembling so hard the coffee nearly spilled.
"E‑eh‑eh?! What is happening! Patchouli-Sama and Tamami-San are…!" She clamped a hand over her mouth, ears burning.
"I must be seeing things! No—this is a hallucination. I'm just tired, yes, that's it!"
Yet she couldn't stop herself from another quick peek. Tamami's fingers slid down Patchouli's back, his quiet murmur full of awe: "Patchouli… you're truly beautiful."
Panting, Patchouli kept her eyes shut, voice overflowing with bliss. "Tamami… don't stop… I… love you so much…"
Koakuma could stand no more. She gently set down the tray, closed the door without a sound, then floated away, face blazing.
"Ahhhhh! Patchouli-Sama and Tamami-San… they look so happy… but how can I face Patchouli-Sama now?!"
Inside the library, unaware of the brief intrusion, Tamami stroked Patchouli's cheek, his words soft and earnest: "Patchouli, you're my most precious person. I want you always happy—free from every worry."
Patchouli opened misty eyes, clasping his hand. "Tamami… I believe you… Let's be together forever, all right?"
Tamami nodded gently and captured her lips once more, letting the night's deep affection sink ever further into their souls.
Afternoon at the Scarlet Devil Mansion — Inside the Library
Sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a gentle warmth over the usually quiet library. Patchouli slowly stirred awake, her body slightly sore yet more relaxed and comfortable than usual.
Her eyes fell upon the table beside her, where a carefully prepared lunch had been set out. The presentation was elegant, the aroma irresistible—clearly Tamami's handiwork. Beside it lay a note written in a familiar handwriting:
"Patchouli, don't forget to eat your lunch."
Patchouli couldn't help but smile softly.
She reached for the chopsticks and took a bite. Satisfaction lit up her eyes—the perfectly balanced meal was clearly tailored just for her.
"That idiot… always so thoughtful," she murmured, her mind drifting to the memories of the night before.
Her thoughts returned to last night—four hours of tender, passionate intimacy.
Tamami's gentle touch, his endless patience, and the way he kept asking "Is this okay?" again and again made her feel happiness and fulfillment like never before.
"If my asthma were completely cured…" Patchouli cupped her face in her hands, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. "Maybe… we could go even longer…"
She bit her lower lip at the thought, so flustered she nearly wanted to bury herself in the book piles.
Just then, Koakuma floated in with a stack of books in her arms, her usual cheerful smile in place—though on closer inspection, there was a subtle tremble in her voice.
"Patchouli-Sama, I'm here to organize the books~" she announced in her usual chipper tone, though something in it seemed just slightly off.
Patchouli quickly composed herself, lifting her teacup to hide her flustered expression.
"Mm, thank you. Please return the grimoires from yesterday to their proper places."
Koakuma nodded and floated toward the bookshelves, beginning her task. But halfway through, she noticed something odd.
Some of the magic books had faint traces of an unknown liquid on their covers. She frowned, muttering to herself:
"Huh? What's this? Why is there some kind of liquid on the books?"
She touched it with her fingertip—it had dried, but the residue was still fresh. It was clearly something from last night or early this morning. What made her heart race was the faint scent it emitted—subtly suggestive, almost… indecent.
Koakuma froze. Her mind flashed back to the vivid scene she had accidentally witnessed through the library door last night—Patchouli and Tamami, tangled together in passion. That heated image was burned into her memory.
"So it really wasn't a dream… what I saw last night was real…! These stains… and this scent… it's from them!" Her face turned crimson, ears burning.
Still clutching the tomes, she stood beside the shelf in a daze, her thoughts swirling wildly.
"Patchouli-Sama and Tamami-San… they were that intense last night! I really shouldn't have peeked… but… but…"
She shook her head furiously, trying to calm herself. But the lingering scent and vivid memories made her blush deeper and her heart beat faster.
"Patchouli-Sama… looked so happy… Aah, how am I supposed to face her now?!"
Patchouli, sensing something odd, lifted her gaze slightly and asked in a calm voice:
"Koakuma, is something wrong? You don't look quite yourself. Is there an issue with one of the books?"
Koakuma snapped out of her thoughts and quickly waved her hands.
"N‑No! It's nothing! Just a few books with some kind of liquid—I'll clean them up right away!"
Patchouli frowned slightly, keeping her tone steady:
"Be careful not to bring liquids into the library next time—especially coffee or tea."
Koakuma nodded rapidly, bowing her head and hastily returning to the books, too embarrassed to look at Patchouli again. In her heart, she silently prayed:
"Please don't let Patchouli-Sama realize I know anything…"
Patchouli simply gave a small nod at Koakuma's flustered state, not thinking too much of it. Meanwhile, Koakuma exhaled in silent relief—though deep down, she made a firm resolution:
"I absolutely cannot let Patchouli-Sama know what I saw last night…"
Yet, the traces on the books and the memory of that night had already etched themselves deeply into Koakuma's mind—becoming a secret she could never quite put into words.
Late Night at the Scarlet Devil Mansion – Basement
A gentle light illuminated the corner of the room. This was the world of Flandre Scarlet—dark and solitary, yet quietly hiding a fragile yearning beneath the surface.
Tonight, Flan's emotions were especially unstable. A wild glint flickered in her crimson eyes as her fingers tore at the dolls around her. The room was a mess, several cracks on the walls still glowing faintly from her powers spiraling out of control.
"Tamami-niisan! Go away! Just go away—AAAH!"
With a shriek, a burst of force sent Tamami hurtling across the room, slamming into the wall with a low thud. The impact shook the wall and scattered dust everywhere, but Tamami showed no sign of pain. He slowly got back up, brushing off his clothes, a familiar, gentle smile still lingering on his lips.
"Flan, are you throwing a tantrum again?"
His voice was soft and free of blame—like a calm stream, warm and reassuring.
"I told you! I don't want to see you! Just leave!"
Flan stomped her foot, crimson eyes flashing with unease. Her hands clutched tightly at the hem of her dress, her voice thick with frustration and inner conflict.
She didn't really want to act this way. She knew Tamami had always stayed by her side. But the storm inside her heart—chaos, fear, and confusion—spun out of control, overwhelming her reason.
Yet Tamami didn't retreat. He stepped forward and, with a smile, took out a freshly made cake from behind his back, gently setting it on the table.
"I made you a cake! I used your favorite fruit and added honey this time. I think you'll like it."
Flandre froze. Her eyes instinctively drifted toward the cake. The sweet aroma lingered in the air, tugging softly at something deep inside her—something tender and hidden.
"Why… why did you make cake again? Aren't you afraid I'll just throw it?" she bit her lip, her voice tinged with defiance.
Tamami gently ruffled her golden hair, his smile as warm as a spring breeze.
"If you throw it, I'll just make another one. As long as it makes you happy, I'll keep making them—no matter how many times."
Flan's hands trembled slightly as she stared at the cake. The wildness in her eyes began to subside. Slowly, she walked forward, picked up a fork, and scooped a small piece into her mouth.
The sweetness bloomed across her tongue, and as it did, the restlessness and chaos that had gripped her heart seemed to melt away, piece by piece. Calm returned.
As Tamami reached for the utensils to tidy the table, Flan suddenly hugged him from behind. Her slender arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and she gently rested her forehead against his back.
"Flan…?" Tamami blinked in surprise, his voice full of gentle concern. "What's wrong?"
Flandre held him tightly, her crimson eyes brimming with tears. For hundreds of years, she had been seen only as a "threat," locked away in this underground space, alone with her emptiness.
But this silly, kindhearted tsukumogami kept coming to find her—again and again. He played with her, made her laugh, brought her sweets. Even when thrown across the room, he never showed fear or irritation.
"Tamami-niisan…" Flan whispered, her voice catching in her throat,
"You really… won't ever leave me… will you?"
Tamami gently turned around and pulled her into his arms. His gaze was tender yet firm as his fingers brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes.
His voice was soft, but carried an undeniable certainty:
"I'm not going anywhere, Flan. You're one of the most important bonds in my life. I'll stay with you—for as long as you need me."
Flandre's body trembled slightly. Her crimson eyes reflected both inner turmoil and heartfelt emotion.
She looked up at him, gazing into his sincere smile, and in that moment, the loneliness and fear that had long haunted her seemed to dissolve completely.
A smile broke through her tears as she lightly tapped Tamami's chest with a fist, her voice tinged with playful sulking:
"...Dummy niisan. Saying things that are way too embarrassing."
Tamami chuckled and playfully ruffled her soft golden hair, his tone light and indulgent:
"If it makes you happy, I'll say it as many times as you want."
After a short pause, Flandre lowered her head and asked in a near-whisper:
"But… Tamami-niisan, aren't you… scared of me?"
Her fingertips clung tightly to his sleeve, her voice filled with quiet anxiety:
"Everyone says I'm dangerous… a monster. Even my sister and the others were scared of me before. But you… you never seem afraid. Why?"
Tamami gently lifted her chin, guiding her to meet his eyes. He smiled, a mix of affection and teasing in his tone:
"Flan, don't you know about my past too?"
His tone shifted slightly, heavier now but without hiding anything:
"In ancient times, I was a Toushin. To protect humanity and Takamagahara, I used towering walls of water to crush enemies into pulp. The memories I carry are probably far bloodier and more terrifying than anything you've seen. I didn't want to kill… but I kept telling myself I was just 'taking out the trash'."
Flan's pupils shrank slightly, recalling the legends of his past—this gentle man before her was once the embodiment of the Yasakani no Magatama, a warrior god who controlled the oceans and could smile while mercilessly annihilating evil.
Tamami took her hand gently, continuing with a soft voice:
"That's why I don't see your powers as frightening. You're not a monster, Flan. What's truly scary is when power is used to hurt others on purpose. But you… you've never truly wanted to hurt anyone, right?"
Hearing his words, Flandre's eyes welled with fresh tears. She bit her lip and shook her head slightly.
"But… I still lose control sometimes… and I still scare people…"
"That's okay," Tamami said softly, pulling her into another hug.
"I'm here. I'll stay by your side and help you control that power. You're not alone—and you never will be again."
At last, Flandre's tears fell. She buried her face in Tamami's chest, holding him tightly, as if afraid he would vanish if she let go.
As she held on to him, feeling the warmth of his presence, Tamami's gentle voice rang in her ears:
"Flan, will you trust me? I'll find something—something that will help stabilize your spirit forever. I'll help you live a happier life."
His words were soft and steady, like that of an older brother comforting someone who desperately needed it. Flan, at first deeply moved, began to process his words—particularly that "like a little sister" tone.
Her expression shifted slightly. She pouted instinctively.
"Little sister…" she repeated softly, then looked up at Tamami, her crimson eyes tinged with subtle frustration.
"Tamami-niisan… is that how you see me? As your little sister?"
Tamami blinked, sensing something off in her tone. He reached out and ruffled her hair again, voice still as gentle as ever:
"Flan, you've always been someone I treasure deeply, like a little sister—"
"But I don't want to just be your little sister!" Flan interrupted, her voice trembling with stubbornness and hurt.
"Is it because… because I'm not as pretty as Yuyuko-neesan or Sanae? Not as smart as Pache? Not as graceful as Kaguya-neesan?"
(Note: Flandre calls Yuyuko and Kaguya "neesan" because of their much older age, while Sanae and Patchouli, being younger than Flandre, are referred to casually.)
She lowered her head, small hands nervously twisting the hem of her skirt.
"I know I don't have a good figure… my chest isn't as big as theirs… I'm not as gentle or bright as they are… I'm just a troublesome, dangerous little girl… That's why you see me as a sister, isn't it?"
Tamami listened in silence, his eyes full of pain and tenderness. He gently cupped Flan's cheeks, lifting her face so she had no choice but to look into his eyes.
His voice was unwavering and kind:
"Flan, none of that has ever mattered to me. In my eyes, you are Flandre Scarlet—irreplaceable, incomparable. You don't need to compete with anyone."
"Your smile, your sincerity, your courage—those are the things I cherish the most. I don't see you as just a little sister. I want to protect you because I truly want you to be happy."
A flicker of hesitation flashed through Flan's eyes, but she bit her lip and asked softly:
"Then… what if, one day, I want more? Would you say yes, Tamami-niisan?"
Tamami paused, just about to respond—when Flan, cheeks bright red, gathered her courage and continued:
"Back during the aphrodisiac incident… I told you I wanted to have your baby. I wasn't joking. I meant it."
Her words stunned Tamami.
He looked at the flushed girl before him, whose crimson eyes glowed with both bashful determination and sincerity. He was caught somewhere between touched and bewildered.
"Flan… you…"
Flandre didn't give him a chance to finish. She tugged gently on Tamami's sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper:
"I don't want to be just your little sister. I want to be the most important person in your life. I want to live with you... Really, Tamami-niisan, I'm almost five hundred years old. Please stop treating me like a child!"
Tamami fell silent for a few seconds, then gave her a warm smile. He reached out and softly stroked her hair, speaking in a low, gentle voice:
"Flan, I've never thought of you as a child. And I've never seen you as a burden. Your feelings mean a lot to me. I can feel the sincerity in your heart."
He paused, his tone now serious and full of care:
"If you truly wish for us to be together one day, then I'll show you with my actions. As long as you're willing to believe in me, I'll stay by your side—until the day you feel I'm someone you can lean on."
Hearing that, Flandre's crimson eyes flickered with disbelief before breaking into a radiant smile. She threw herself into his arms, clinging tightly to him, her voice laced with playful affection:
"Tamami-niisan, you're not allowed to take it back!"
"I never will," Tamami chuckled, gently ruffling her hair. "You'll always be my precious Flan."
"Tamami-niisan…" she whispered sweetly, her voice shy and soft.
Before he could respond, she stood on tiptoe and closed her eyes, pressing her lips to his in a kiss. It was innocent and inexperienced, filled with the trembling heart of a young girl coming of age. Her gesture, though clumsy, brimmed with pure and earnest emotion.
Tamami froze, feeling the warmth and softness of her lips. A wave of warmth surged through his heart. Slowly, he reached out to embrace her, pulling her into his arms with care. Her head rested on his shoulder as he whispered:
"Flan... are you really sure?"
There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, along with worry:
"I'm afraid... I might hurt you. You're so precious to me. I don't want to cause you pain…"
Flandre blushed even deeper at his words, but shook her head gently. Her crimson eyes were filled with unwavering resolve:
"I'm serious, Tamami-niisan... Ever since that day, I've known... I can't live without you."
She reached out and grasped his hand, looking up at him with a trembling voice:
"Maybe my body still looks small, but my heart is real... I want to be with you. I want you to belong to me alone..."
After saying that, she looked down, her ears as red as ripe apples. Her voice was barely audible:
"When you asked me just now if I was willing... my answer is... I am."
Tamami looked at the trembling girl before him—so shy, yet so determined—and felt his heart overflow with tenderness. He gently cupped her cheek, murmuring:
"Flan... thank you for trusting me. I'll be very careful—I won't let you get hurt."
Then, with the utmost gentleness, he picked her up and laid her down on the soft bed.
His movements were as delicate as if he were handling a fragile porcelain treasure. In the candlelight, he leaned down to kiss her again, this time slower, more intimate.
Flandre's exquisite wings shimmered under the flickering glow. These wings, symbols of her vampiric nature, were unlike any other.
Her wings were delicate, almost butterfly-like in structure, outlined in black bone.
Hanging from those thin bones were crystalline jewels of various shapes and brilliant hues—sapphires as deep as the night sky, rubies as red as flame, emeralds as green as spring leaves, and topaz as golden as sunlight.
Each gem radiated a soft, luminous glow. When her wings trembled lightly, it felt as though they were breathing.
Under the candlelight, those jewels cast colorful reflections onto the walls, creating a dreamlike atmosphere.
Her wings were both elegant and otherworldly, exuding a spiritual beauty far beyond the mortal realm.
Tamami didn't stop. His lips moved slowly, carefully pressing kisses along the curve of her ear, then trailing down toward her unique wings.
His gaze was fixed, movements gentle—like an artist admiring the most precious creation in existence.
"Flan, your wings... they're so beautiful," Tamami whispered with deep admiration.
His lips paused at the base of her wing, gently planting a kiss before his tongue traced the edge of one of the jewels.
"!"
Flandre's body froze instantly, her muscles tightening at the sudden sensation. She instinctively covered her face with both hands, her entire face flushed a deep red.
Her voice was filled with a mix of shame and panic:
"Tamami-niisan! What are you doing!"
Tamami smiled softly and looked up at her blushing face, his voice carrying a teasing warmth:
"Your wings really are beautiful, Flan. They're like stars scattered across the night sky."
Flandre stammered in protest, her crimson eyes shimmering with flustered emotion:
"Y-You can't touch that part! Wings are... they're... really sensitive!"
Her hands flailed in the air in an attempt to push him away, but the force behind them was feeble—more like a spoiled refusal than a real attempt to stop him.
Tamami lowered his head, placing gentle kisses along Flan's collarbone until he finally stopped at that petite, cherry‑like spot.
"T‑Tamami-niisan…!"
Flandre cried out, her body tensing at the unexpected touch, her face so red it seemed ready to bleed.
Instinctively she raised her hands—but instead of pushing him away, her trembling fingers came to rest on his shoulders.
Tamami's tongue traced softly, delicately—as though he were tasting the rarest fruit on earth.
Every kiss carried tenderness and reverence, sending an indescribable shiver through Flan's whole body.
"Flan, you taste… like sweet honey. I can't help wanting more," he murmured, his voice thick with love and sincerity.
Flandre's breathing grew ragged. Clutching his shoulders, she asked, half‑shy, half‑pleading, "Tamami-niisan… do you really think so? Am I… truly that special?"
Tamami paused, meeting the wavering crimson of her eyes. "Flan, every part of you is beautiful. You're my dearest bond—my most important person."
Night had plunged the Scarlet Devil Mansion into silence; only candle‑flames flickered. Yet Remilia Scarlet, with a vampire's keen hearing, caught the faintest sound while she slept.
Bleary‑eyed, she sat up and listened—soft, rhythmic "pa—pa—pa—" impacts from the basement. She frowned.
"Flan… what on earth are you up to this time?" she muttered, shuffling toward the source.
Outside Flandre's door, Remilia raised her hand to knock—then froze as she caught even softer voices.
"nii‑san's thing… it's all the way inside… this feels so strange… ah… I'm coming again… mm… my tummy's getting so full… mm/"
Color flooded Remilia's cheeks, wild images bursting in her mind. Recognizing the breathy voice and those words, she leaned closer to the crack of the door.
Inside, by candlelight, Tamami and Flandre were intertwined, completely bare, skin against skin in thick, hazy warmth.
Supporting Flan's hips, Tamami held her close while kissing the wing of gems that shimmered in the light. His fingertips caressed where wing met back; his tongue slowly circled a jewel's edge.
Flan's arms looped around his neck and her legs locked about his waist. Each movement drove deep inside her, drawing tremors from head to toe.
"nii‑san… don't stop… right there… it feels so strange… nn‑ah…" Her whisper was barely audible, yet filled with bliss and trust.
The sight hit Remilia like a bolt. Her scarlet eyes widened; heat rushed through her ears.
"Th‑that's… Flan and Tamami are—" She clapped a hand over her mouth, mind flashing to the night she spent with Kyouya just days ago.
"It's exactly like… me and Kyouya…" Her blush deepened to her ears.
She wanted to flee, yet her feet seemed rooted; her gaze kept drifting back through the crack.
"That little sister of mine… actually…" Emotions tangled in her chest—shock at Flan's boldness, but also warmth at Tamami's tenderness.
"Tamami's as gentle as Kyouya… giving us lonely beings such kindness…" she whispered, recalling her own memories, a soft warmth blooming inside.
At last she drew a long breath, forced calm, and tiptoed back. "Honestly… Flan's even bolder than I am…" she sighed, half amused, half exasperated.
A sly sparkle lit her red eyes as she turned down the corridor. "Still… I should ask Tamami sometime whether Flan's being too hard on him…"
With that secret left to the candlelight, Remilia's steps grew lighter down the silent hall—and the Scarlet Devil Mansion slipped once more into tranquil night.
The night at Moriya Shrine was peaceful, the only sound being the gentle whisper of wind threading through the mountain forest. The calm was profound—almost sacred.
Yet within Sanae's room, the air felt heavy, conflicted.
Sitting quietly on the tatami floor, Sanae's mind swirled with the events of the past few days: her heartfelt confession, the unexpected aphrodisiac incident, and the open admissions from Patchouli and Flandre. It all left her overwhelmed and unsettled.
As the first person Tamami had met in Gensokyo, she had always believed she held a special place in his heart.
Yet now, a quiet, aching sense of being left behind was growing in her chest.
"Tamami treats all five of us exactly the same…" she murmured softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know he puts all of us first… but still, I…"
Her voice grew smaller, but the storm within her only intensified. That entanglement of love and longing surged to the surface, and before she realized it, her hand slipped between her legs.
Her fingers trembled against her skin, her breathing quickened, and her cheeks flushed with a deep crimson from both shame and arousal.
"Tamami…" she whispered his name, her voice laced with barely contained trembling, "I want you so badly..."
Just as she was sinking deeper into that sea of emotion, the faint sound of approaching footsteps brushed against the silence. A moment later, the sliding paper door opened with a soft rasp.
A gentle voice called out:
"Sanae…? Are you okay? I heard something and thought something might've happened to you…"
Sanae jolted upright, panic flashing across her face as if she'd just been caught doing something terribly wrong. Her gaze darted to the door—there stood Tamami, holding a small tray of dango, an awkward yet concerned look on his face.
"A-AHH!" she squealed, diving under the covers and wrapping herself tightly in her blanket, her face buried in her knees. Her voice was panicked and flustered:
"T‑Tamami?! W‑Why did you just come in like that?!"
Tamami scratched the back of his head awkwardly, placing the tray down on the table with an apologetic tone:
"Sorry, Sanae… Your voice sounded a little strange, so I thought maybe you were in trouble. I didn't really think—it just… happened."
Sanae's face was burning red, her lips biting down hard as she stole a quick glance at him. His genuinely remorseful expression brought her a slight sense of relief, but her heart was still pounding like a war drum.
"I… I'm fine!" she blurted out, her voice louder than she intended. Then, quieter:
"I… I just… had a dream, that's all…"
Tamami raised an eyebrow, clearly a bit puzzled, but didn't press. Instead, he gave a soft smile, picked up the dango from the tray, and gently offered it to her:
"Whatever it was, you should eat something. I just made these. Aren't dango your favorite?"
Sanae looked up at his warm smile, and the flurry of emotions in her heart slowly began to settle. She took the dango with both hands, her voice small and sincere:"Thank you… Tamami."
As she ate, her thoughts gradually calmed, but that longing in her heart only grew stronger. After a moment of hesitation, she looked up at him and quietly asked:"Tamami… Do you really treat all five of us exactly the same?"
Tamami paused, then met her gaze with softness and earnest warmth in his voice:
"Sanae, each of you is unique to me. Every one of you is irreplaceable. I'll give everything I have to protect your happiness."
Hearing those words, Sanae's eyes grew moist, but a gentle smile tugged at her lips. She whispered:
"You're such a fool, Tamami… But that's exactly why… we all love you so much."
The candlelight flickered gently between them. Sanae bowed her head, her hands tightly clutching the fabric of Tamami's sleeve.
Her fingers trembled slightly from the tension. Her green eyes shimmered with nervousness and hesitation, her cheeks still bright as ripe apples.
"Tamami…" she said softly, her voice trembling,
"Earlier… it was because I missed you so much… that I… that I…"
Her voice trailed off to a whisper, inaudible by the end, but the unspoken meaning still left her cheeks glowing even redder.
She looked up at him with uncertain eyes, her voice filled with fear and vulnerability:
"Tamami… would you hate a shrine maiden… who's this perverted?"
Her fingers gripped his sleeve even tighter, as if afraid that he might pull away.
But Tamami simply looked at her with gentle, accepting eyes. He shook his head slowly, reached out, and caressed her cheek with a hand as warm as spring sunlight:
"How could I ever? Sanae, you're the most adorable shrine maiden I've ever met. You're kinder than anyone I know, and stronger than you give yourself credit for."
Sanae's eyes widened slightly, a flash of surprise and emotion shining through. Her lips quivered, as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out.
Tamami looked at her flushed face and chuckled softly, his tone playfully warm:
"And as for being perverted… I think it just means you care about me—a lot. Isn't that right?"
His teasing words brushed gently across her heart like a feather. Her face blushed a deeper red as she stammered:
"Th‑that's not it! That's not why…!"
Yet her eyes betrayed her. In their depths shimmered the truth—a sincere and powerful yearning.
After a long silence, she finally found the courage to take his hand in hers, her voice tinged with stubborn resolve:
"Tamami… I love you. No matter how many people love you, I want you to know… my feelings are just as real, and just as strong."
Tamami's gaze grew even softer. He leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, his words tender and heartfelt:
"Sanae, I've always known. And I've always treasured your feelings. You're one of my most precious bonds—the first person to give me warmth after I came to Gensokyo. Your love… is priceless to me."
At those words, Sanae's eyes brimmed with tears. She threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. Her voice came out in a soft, embarrassed whimper:
"You idiot, Tamami… You always say things that are way too embarrassing…"
Tamami wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back, and whispered:
"Sanae, you never have to doubt yourself. Your kindness and your honesty are the things I cherish most."
In that quiet room, the candlelight danced softly, illuminating their tender embrace.
That night, all of Sanae's uncertainty and self-doubt melted away—washed clean by Tamami's warmth and his promise.
The earlier shyness and uncertainty between them gradually transformed—through honest words and deep bonds—into a yearning that neither could suppress.
Their breaths grew heavier, and the kiss between them turned fierce and hungry. Sanae's tongue, agile like a little serpent, slipped into Tamami's mouth.
He responded in kind, gently parting her lips with the tip of his tongue. Their entangled saliva stretched between their lips as they separated, forming a delicate silver thread that shimmered faintly in the light.
"Tamami..." Sanae whispered his name in that moment of parting, her voice laced with desire and tenderness impossible to ignore.
She took a half step back and reached for the sash of her shrine maiden outfit. With a soft rustle, the garments slid from her shoulders to the floor.
Her frog and snake hair ornaments were removed, revealing a cascade of smooth, mint-green hair that fell freely down her back—she stood there, stripped down to her truest self.
Bathed in the gentle glow of the room's lamp, she presented herself to Tamami without reservation, her eyes reflecting a blend of vulnerability and determination.
Seeing her like that, a warm, aching emotion welled up in Tamami's chest. He gently placed his arms around her shoulders, his expression soft and full of affection.
"Sanae... you're beautiful."
His voice was low and sincere, filled with quiet reverence.
At those words, a soft blush bloomed once more on Sanae's cheeks. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening slightly, and reached to untie the cord of his robe.
Her fingers pulled at the knot, then tugged at the collar, slowly removing the fabric that marked his identity.
As his robes slipped to the floor, the space between them closed. Their breaths mingled, wrapping around one another like a warm wind.
Sanae took a deep breath, her arms winding around Tamami's neck as she pressed her body close to his chest.
"Tamami..." she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, "I'm ready."
Tamami gazed into her eyes, full of trust and devotion, and gently cradled the back of her head. He leaned forward and kissed her once more.
Their fingers interlaced tightly. The warmth between them grew with each passing second, and the atmosphere in the room filled with tenderness and heat.
The night… was still young.