Part One

I looked up from my work, wiped my brow with the back of my hand. My hand came away with a light glaze of sweat.

Imagine a large arboretum, planted full with different breeds of the cherry tree prunus serrulata. There are rows upon rows of the trees, separated into loose grids by cobblestone walkways. Some plots of land are higher than others, some trees in valleys and others on hills. Stone staircases run up and down, crossing in tangles that defy the eye.

Shallow streams run through it all, coming from and going to nowhere specific. The water is crystalline blue, a contrast to the pink cherry trees. Where the walking paths meet the streams, small wooden bridges let the walkway cross over uninterrupted.

This is the resting place for the recently-dead from Gensokyo, and it’s my job to keep it tidy. Most days, I enjoy the meditative serenity of my work. Right now though, a bothersome ghost was making my job difficult. I had finished sweeping pile of shed cherry petals to the side of the path. The ghost sat on a tree branch above me, looking down at my work.

“What a fine job, Youmu!” she said. “That’s the best pile of petals you’ve ever swept together.”

“It really isn’t.” I knelt down beside the mound of petals, ready to scoop it into a bag.

“Oh no, Youmu. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I behold this to be both beautiful and functional. Like a haystack that a child jumps into from the barn loft.”

I looked up. “Like a what?”

She jumped from the branch and landed in my hard work. Cherry petals exploded in all directions, and I got a faceful. The ghost rolled out of the splashed pile. Her hair was about the same color as the petals, but her clothes were the opposite. She wore a light blue kimono, and a matching nightcap with a ghostly-shaped swirl on front.

I stood, my hands bunched into fists, jaw clenched, petals falling from my face. If this ghost were anyone else, I would have brandished a sheathed sword to intimidate the person who disrupted my work.

Sadly, this ghost is the reason I was working.

“Yuyuko-sama!” I yelled at her.

The ghost sat up, having scattered most of the cherry petals. She put a fist to the side of her head. She had that childish, helpless look on her face: Uh oh, I’m getting scolded now.

“I spent half an hour sweeping that up!” I said. “How could—”

“I’m so sorry!” She hopped to her feet and crushed me into a hug. Her arms went around my head, squeezing my face into her chest.

I grunted, tried to push her away. She held me tight. She is stronger than me, which is strange given she has no muscles to flex or bones to hold them up. When in the ethereal world, ghosts can choose which physical laws to obey. This ghost was obeying the law of squishing my head until my brains come out my ears.

“I feel bad for ruining your hard work,” she said, laying on a few more pounds per square inch. “I need your help so badly. I had to get your attention somehow.”

“You haff it,” I said, muffled into her kimono. “Now pleaf remoof your breafs from my fafe.”

She pulled her bosom out of my eyes, giving me room to breathe. Hands on my shoulders, she leaned down to put her face on level with mine. Her eyes were pink, a shade darker than her hair.

“We have guests coming soon, Youmu. Important, powerful guests. They will demand proper reception and hospitality. We must guide them in, show them the grounds, sit down for tea and pleasantries, then serve a grand dinner to show our esteem.” She put a hand over her eyes, as if ashamed. “But I’m at a loss! I don’t know what to feed them.”

“All of our guests have outgrown their eating habit,” I said.

“Oh, no. These guests aren’t ghosts. They’re not even human. But they are alive, and they’ll have appetites.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Yuyuko only knew one and a half premortem beings. I was the half. The other was a youkai woman whose company I didn’t enjoy.

“Your… friend?” I said.

“Yes.” Yuyuko smiled. She let go of my shoulder, looked off into the trees. “It’s been a while since she’s visited us, hasn’t it? She has a shikigami now, you know. Not only that, but her shikigami has one too! Can you imagine? A servant’s servant, and a master’s master. Isn’t that silly?”

“Less so than some things,” I said.

“Even so.” Yuyuko turned back to me. “This meeting has a lot of significance. It’s the reunion of old friends, and the celebration of new ones. And a planning session for the future! Such an important gathering requires a meal of equal importance.”

“Planning the future?” I said. “What are—OUCH!”

Yuyuko grabbed me, but not my physical self. She put a hand in the air, above and to the right of my head. There she made a fist, took hold of an invisible thing that gave like soft flesh. She had my ghost in her grip.

“No more time to chat!” She headed down the cobblestone path, dragging me by the spirit. “A grand meal is needed at the house, along with the pint-sized gardener who’s going to cook it.”

---

Yuyuko and I walked past uncounted cherry trees, all bare of their blossoms now that winter had begun. Hakugyokuro experiences seasons as the mortal world does, but our environmental changes are less harsh than in Gensokyo. Summer is rejuvenating warmth, rather than oppressive heat. Winter is about cozy cuddling under blankets, rather than shivering fear of hypothermia. Spring and fall are pleasant transitions between the two, with gentle rainfall from clouds that don’t quite exist.

As we headed back to the house, the air around us was cool and clean. There was no sun, but the light in the sky was changing to deep red. It was time to go indoors, eat dinner and spend time with loved ones. After that, it would be time to lie down and rest, content with the day’s happenings, happily looking forward to tomorrow.

Hakugyokuro has to be this way, so it can function as a resting place.

We reached the top of a hill, looking over the center of Hakugyokuro below us. Our house was down there, but it was barely noticeable beside the biggest cherry tree in the gardens.

“Isn’t she lovely?” said Yuyuko. Her feet were six inches above the ground as she floated down the hillside. “You think she’ll bloom next spring?”

I followed, but said nothing. The tree up ahead was larger than anything else bearing the name tree. Its trunk was a greater diameter than a feudal lord’s mansion. A huge network of roots spread out from its base, webbing out in all directions across Hakugyokuro’s landscape. The roots bulged up near the trunk before gradually disappearing into the ground, making mounds that a grown man couldn’t easily climb over. Its system of branches fanned out against the pastel sky, bare like the rest of the gardens.

Its branches weren’t empty because of the season. This tree never bloomed. Secretly, I was grateful. Cleaning up after it would mean weeks of sweeping, bagging, and hauling fallen cherry petals.

“Youmu?” she looked back at me, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know, Yuyuko-sama,” I said.

Her shoulders drooped. She turned and hovered down the path, barely bobbing up and down as she went. I stayed close behind.

We made it down the hill, headed towards the house. It’s an eastern-style home; low ceilings, sliding screen doors, mat flooring. We have a kotatsu where we have meals and sit with guests. There’s even a garden out back, where I grow beans and vegetables.

As we approached the house, I walked ahead of Yuyuko. I hopped up onto the wooden deck and slid the screen door aside, holding it open for her. She went inside, floating past me.

“Do you know when the guests will arrive?” I said.

She didn’t need to answer. I saw a flash of light out the corner of my eye. I turned, one hand reflexively reaching back for one of my swords. My weapons are habit when something surprises me.

The light came from the peak of the hill that Yuyuko and I had just descended. There was a break in the air there, a dark fissure opening in the shape of an evil grin.

“That must be her now,” said Yuyuko. “Go greet them, would you?”

The screen door slid shut.

---

I jogged from the house and back up the hill, keeping a hold on both my swords as I went. I reached the hilltop just in time to receive the visitors.

The dark gap hung seven feet off the ground, tied on either end with a non-material ribbon. I looked up at it, but tried not to look into it. I didn’t want to know what lie beyond.

Three lighted silhouettes appeared against the darkness inside the gap. These figures were small at first, but grew rapidly as if approaching at great speed. They were of humanoid shape and size. Suddenly, they were out of the gap. It snapped shut behind them, and here they were. Their feet stood on the same ground as mine.

Three people stood before me, side by side. On my right stood a tall, muscular woman. Her face was handsome, but lined and careworn, like a mother aged early from worry. Her robes were embroidered on front with characters of the old language. She wore an odd two-pointed nightcap, which I guessed must cover animal ears atop her head. The fluffy plumage of many red-orange tails stuck out the back of her dress. She must be a fox youkai. She carried a laden bag in one hand, probably filled with foodstuffs.

On my left stood the shortest of the three, a gawky girl barely taller than me. She looked like a cross between a schoolchild and a feral cat. She wore a simple dress and vest. A green artist’s beret sat on her head, between up-pointing feline ears. Upon seeing me, the cat girl grinned. Her mouth was full of sharp teeth.

Between these two stood a woman of ordinary height. She had no bestial features, but she was more than human. Her hair was long and golden, cascading down her back in loose ringlets. Her eyes were deep lavender. She was clothed like an aristocrat’s wife, wearing an expensive dress and carrying a frilly parasol.

I didn’t know the two animals, but I knew their mistress too well. Here was the most powerful youkai in Gensokyo. I bowed to her.

“Mistress of the Boundary, Yakumo Yukari-sama,” I said. “It is both honor and delight to have you visit. I beg your forgiveness, but I know not your companions.”

The grand youkai woman laughed, holding a gloved hand over her mouth. Her voice was full and rich.

“I hoped you’d be less formal by now, Youmu,” she said. “No one calls their masters sama anymore.”

I stood up straight, looked her in the eye, but said nothing. I wasn’t afraid of her, not here. This was my mistress’s realm.

“I should know better than to expect you to relax at all.” Yukari gestured to her left. “This is my shikigami, Ran.” To her right. “And this is her shikigami, Chen. Both of you, this is Youmu Konpaku, Yuyuko’s servant. Say hello.”

The fox woman, Ran, nodded to me, keeping one arm folded into her robe. She grunted, “Hello.”

The cat girl, Chen, stepped up to me. She looked me up and down, then clapped a hand on the crown of my head. My black ribbon crushed under her palm. Her claws dug into my hair. My instinct was to flip out a blade and remove her arm from the elbow, but I stayed still.

“You’re short!” she said, grinning and squeezing my scalp.

“Yes,” I said, “but my swords are sharp.”

The smile fell from her face, showing confusion. She wasn’t much smarter than her feline likeness, I could already tell.

A growl came from the fox woman, like an animal warning another to stay away from its prey. I took one second to realize she wasn’t growling at me.

“Chen,” said Ran. “Don’t touch people without permission. Unhand her.”

The cat made a hmphing sound. She let go of me, then went back to Yukari’s side.

I bowed again, pretending none of that had happened.

“Yukari, Ran and Chen of House Yakumo. I welcome you to Hakugyokuro. Yuyuko-sama is awaiting your arrival. Please come with me.”

I turned and headed down the hill. Yukari followed me, tapping the tip of her parasol to the ground like a walking cane. Ran took Chen by the hand and brought up the rear.

Yukari looked up to the immense bare cherry tree that defined Hakugyokuro’s skyline. It was easy to tell her thoughts by the look on her face. Awe and disappointment, just like Yuyuko.

“The Saigyou Ayakashi seems bigger every time I see it,” said Yukari. “Has it bloomed yet, Youmu?”

“No,” I said, not looking at her.

“Amazing.” Yukari glanced back at her two shikigami. “Take a good look. You’ll never see its like in Gensokyo. No tree this large could exist in the mortal world. It’s still alive, perhaps even growing, but it never blossoms.”

“I don’t feel comfortable here,” said Ran. “Natural laws are not obeyed.”

“Who would name a dumb old tree?” said Chen.

“Don’t be rude, you two.” said Yukari. “That tree is very important to our host. It’s a symbol of her power and status as the ruler of the netherworld.”

“Similar to your Boundary?” said Ran.

“Yes,” said Yukari, “but not identical.”

---

I led the Yakumos down to the house. Once on the manor grounds, under the great tree’s shadow, I turned and faced the guests.

“If you would please wait here,” I said. “I will announce your arrival to Yuyuko-sama.”

“Certainly,” said, Yukari. Her smile showed how my formality amused her.

I was about to go in, but I wasn’t fast enough. The screen door slammed open behind me. Out rushed a blur of blue kimono and pink hair. Yuyuko’s knees clipped my shoulders, knocking me to my hands and knees. Clipping me didn’t slow her at all, and she rammed into Yukari with a full-forced hug.

“Yuka-reeeee!” Yuyuko squealed. “It’s so good to see you!”

Yukari had better balance than I. She only returned Yuyuko’s hug, patting her on the back.

“You too, my ghostly child,” she said. They held each other like friends long parted. I didn’t see much of this, instead reconciling my sudden intimate acquaintance with the ground before Yuyuko’s front porch.

By the time I had my wits together, I saw a pair of leather shoes peaking out from under a long robe. I looked up and saw Ran standing over me. She still held the sack in one hand, and Chen’s hand in the other. The cat girl folded in her lips, trying not to laugh at me.

“You all right?” said Ran.

“Yes.” I pushed my self up, patting the dirt off my hands and skirt. “Standard procedure here, I’m afraid to say.”

“It’s good to know I’m not the only one,” said Ran.

I narrowed my eyes at her. I had a hard time imagining that anyone could knock down such a muscle-laden beast as Ran – but if one stronger person existed, it would be Yukari.

“Youmu!” called Yuyuko from the house’s front door. She and Yukari had gone behind me while I recovered. “Dinner’s waiting! For you to cook it!”

---

After ensuring my mistress and her guests were settled in the front room, I went back into the kitchen. While they discussed whatever it is immortals talk about, I would prepare a plate of tea and biscuits as an appetizer. That would tide them over and give me time to make dinner.

I took off my swords and rested them in a corner. I tied on an apron, lit the stove and washed my hands. As I turned to get a tea kettle from the cabinet, I sensed Ran standing behind me.

“You’re a guest,” I said, turning to face her. “You can relax in the front room. I’ll bring out dinner when it’s ready.”

Ran stood still. Chen wasn’t with her, but she still held that heavy sack. She looked around the kitchen, analyzing the space. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but the place was smaller than she would have it. The tips of her ears grazed the ceiling.

She looked down at me. “I’ll help you cook.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said.

“It is.” Her voice was deep and even. “You have amenities here I thought were reserved for mortals. A physical dwelling, running water, an ice box, a stove. I saw the garden out back. One thing you lack is the flesh of dead things.”

Ran stepped over to the cutting board on the counter. She hoisted the bag onto it, then tore the bag away from its contents. There sat a large beef shank, big enough to feed several men. She began rummaging through the drawers, trying to find a butcher knife.

“I eat meat at my meals,” she said.

“Eat whatever you wish,” I said. “But please stay out of my kitchen. It isn’t a guest’s place. I can cook—”

She looked back at me, and her face alone silenced me. She seemed even less human than she had one minute ago. The fur on her tails bristled. Her eyes glowed bright orange, showing youkai energy inside her.

“You have no meat here,” she said. “I won’t trust a good piece of cow to one who’s never prepared it before. I will cook at least this part of dinner. Show me where the knives are, or you can go keep Chen company.”

I was stunned. This was ridiculous. I was being ordered around by a guest. I ached for the weight of my swords on my back, but they were on the far side of the room. I would have to pass Ran to get them.

“If you insist,” I said. “We’ll both prepare dinner. Many hands make light work. I hope you understand that you’ll earn no allies with such an attitude.”

“I don’t yet know if you’re an ally worth having,” said Ran “If you are, I’ll find another way.”

“Fine,” I said. “Knives are in the leftmost drawer.”

She looked down at the drawer, opened it, found what she was looking for. She took out the heaviest cleaver and went to work on her shank.

---

We made dinner. Ran cut the meat into slices, fried them up and seasoned them. I worked with grains and vegetables as I’m accustomed to.

We moved around each other in the kitchen too small for us both. So long as Ran was allowed to prepare her meat, she was otherwise surprisingly courteous. She gave me as much space as she could, allowing me first access to any cupboard or cabinet if we both needed it at the same time. She said please and thank you each time she asked for something.

Before too long, dinner was ready. Ran had prepared every bit of the meat, spread out on two plates. The rice, beans and vegetables I brought to the table was of the same type I usually ate, but with a bit more effort. I gave it a more seasoning and added garnish.

Ran and I brought the food out to the front room. Yuyuko and Yukari sat on either side of the table, a mostly-empty tea tray between them. Chen had curled up on the floor, her head resting in Yukari’s lap, who absently scratched her ears. Yukari had set her parasol in the corner of the room. Ran’s and Chen’s hats hung off the handle.

“Finally, Youmu,” said Yuyuko. “One more minute and I was going in there after you. Why is Ran helping you with the food?”

“I suspect Ran gave her little choice in the matter,” said Yukari.

Both we servants were silent. We set the dishes on the table, both sitting beside our respective mistress. I moved the tea tray aside and began dishing up for Yuyuko. Ran did the same for her mistress and Chen.

“Wake up, kitty,” said Yukari, pushing Chen’s head off her lap. “Food’s ready.”

Chen sat up straight and rubbed her eyes, letting out a moaning purr. Her ears perked up, when she saw the plate of food set before her.

“So, Yukari, enough about me,” said Yuyuko. “Anything interesting happening in the mortal world?”

“Oh yes,” said Yukari. “Quite a lot. Did you hear about last summer?”

“Summer?” said Yuyuko. “A few ghosts were frightened, I remember. They told me about a foul red mist in the sky.”

Yukari took a slice of steak in her chopsticks and laid the whole piece in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, making eating look like a glamorous activity done only by wealthy, beautiful people.

“That’s right,” said Yukari. “Mid-summer last year, an anomaly of weather covered Gensokyo for several days. A reddish mist was in the sky by day, and hideous black clouds by night.”

Yuyuko let out a hmm noise, the best reply she could give while chewing.

“The incident ended fairly quickly,” said Yukari, “so I thought there was no danger to Gensokyo, but it was an odd event. I did some investigation, and found the unnatural clouds were magical in nature. They came the old mansion on the lake, where the vampire family had a bit of a spat.”

“That is the kindest word one could use,” said Ran. “They nearly destroyed much of Gensokyo’s land.”

“But they didn’t,” said Yukari, glancing sideways at her shikigami. “To ensure the problem didn’t recur, I had Ran plant the Staff of Suppression in the woods near their home. Two powerful mages live there, so I trusted they would find Lævateinn and put it to good use. They did, just as I hoped. More interesting than these events were the people. I’ve known about the vampire sisters for a long time, but two obscure humans were also involved.”

The word humans took Yuyuko’s attention back from the food.

“Really?” she said, though it came out as Reary? past her mouthful of rice and beans.

Yukari nodded, took a sip of tea. “The shrine maiden who lives near the Boundary, on the opposite side of Gensokyo from my home, and a young witch who lives in a hovel in the Forest of Magic. They went to the lake mansion and confronted its residents.”

“Confronted,” said Ran. “Another kind word, if the fairies speak truly.”

The room was quiet, silence heavy on us. Chen was wise enough to ignore us and shove down her food as quickly as possible.

“But....” said Yuyuko, “their spirits never passed through Hakugyokuro. Which means—”

“They survived,” said Yukari, “amazing as it sounds. The story gets stranger. When I heard of all this, I also learned there’s been an addition to the vampire’s family since I last looked at the place. A young woman, most of the way to adulthood, living there as the vampire’s maid.”

“Maid?” I said. “I wouldn’t call her such. A vampire would only live with a human to feed off her. She would be food, not serve it.”

“Not so,” said Yukari. “This human has lived there all her life with none of her blood eaten. I don’t know by whose virtue that is, the human’s or the vampire’s. I’ve only learned of this recently, of course, human life spans being so short.”

At this point, I noticed Ran. Her eyes were fixed on her plate, her expression annoyed.

“Lady Ran?” I said. “Is something the matter?”

She looked up at me, chewing. She swallowed.

“No,” she said. “Nothing.”

She kept her eyes on mine for a long second before going back to her food.

Something wasn’t being said here.

Yukari noticed something pass between Ran and I. She might have called it out, but Yuyuko got in ahead of her.

“After dinner,” my mistress said, “we should go sit out on the back patio. You remember, Yukari, the waterland vista is absolutely stunning in the evenings.”

“I remember,” said Yukari. “Hakugyokuro has impressive sunsets, especially for a realm that has no sun. You should have seen just yesterday: Gensokyo had a light snowfall which broke just before dusk, leaving the mountain tops peaked with white, and the sun went down behind them like an orb of molten glass. It was breathtaking.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” said Yuyuko. “Then again, a week or so ago, you should have seen it here. In the mid-morning, the sky seemed to reflect the water on the ground. There was a web of blue threads in the clouds, all rippling and shimmering like light off the surface of a lake. How lovely it was.”

The two of them led off into an inane discussion about whose country was more beautiful. I closed my ears and focused on the meal, wishing for this to be over.

“Speaking of lakes. Have you ever seen fish hopping over the waters to catch their breakfast before dawn? There’s so many of these in Gensokyo’s lake, it looks like a flock of birds popping in and out of an inverse puddle of sky.”

“I bet that’s nothing compared to the cherry trees here. In the autumn when their petals fall, you can walk through the gardens and feel like there’s a pink snowstorm around you. It’s a charming feeling.”

I was so eager to leave the table that I would claim the need to wash our dishes as soon as politeness would allow.