Part Two

Human women wish they could be like Hong Meiling.

Immense physical strength, stunningly beautiful despite spending no effort on her appearance, and supernatural healing. She can suffer a broken back and attend the dinner table fifteen minutes later. While true that any higher-level youkai can endure physical punishment beyond what kills a human, Hong enjoys exceptional hardiness. This trait is necessary for her occupation.

Meiling left the dining room, only to trade for an undamaged dress. While she was gone, the mistress sat Flandre at the table and readied her for the meal. I spent this time coaxing Koakuma out from under a chair.

“Is she gone?” Koa whispered up at me, as if her hiding place were unknown to anyone in the room.

“No,” I said, “but the threat is. Flandre is occupied glowing at the occasion in her honor.”

I used the word glowing literally. The spectral shards of her wings light with emotion.

“Not Flandre!” said Koa. “I meant China. Is she gone?”

My brow furled.

“She’s the one I’m scared of!” said Koa. “Flandre’s not so scary. All she does is destroy everything and kill you. But China, she beats you up. She makes it hurt.”

I had no response. I pitied Koa. She suffered from post-traumatic stress. I had experienced the same once before, though not as severely as hers. I had been struck twice by a shrine maiden’s gohei.

“You are in no danger,” I said. “Hong does not see you as an intruder. Even if she did, she could not harm you. You are my subordinate, and under my protection.”

Koa looked up at me with big youkai eyes. I held my free hand down to her, and she slowly reached up to grasp it. I pulled her up from the chair. Our height difference disallowed me from pulling her to her feet, but she stood on her own.

Hand in hand, I walked her to the table where Remilia and Flandre were seated. Koakuma and I took seats of our own, her beside me.

This left me in awe. For no reason I understood, Koakuma trusted me. I wished I knew the motivation behind that trust, and whether it was valid.

Sakuya had finished tidying the mess from Flandre’s tantrum, and she took the other chair beside her mistress. Meiling joined us shortly after, taking the one free seat at this table. She now wore a hybrid between a cocktail dress and nightgown, free of rips and superfluously exposed body parts.

The six of us made one table, and the fairies filled the others. Only a few remained up, those who would bring dinner from the kitchen and serve it. They would join the meal once each table was laden.

Remilia smiled, looking around the room.

“We’re ready,” she said. “Let the party begin.”

---

I finished eating before the others at our table. After our entree was gone, I absently used a spoon to shape iced cream mixed with fruit, the remainder of which I had no appetite for.

I am the lightest eater of the Scarlet Mansion. Meiling eats most heavily, to replenish the nutrients lost in her physically demanding work. The mistress and her sister burn fats and proteins during their frequent power struggles, and they both clear through hearty portions at their meals. Sakuya’s appetite was next largest after theirs; she has lived the least time of any of our residents, and she is still growing. She is taller than the average Gensokyo woman, and her secondary sexual characteristics would mature for the next several years as her body readied itself for childbearing.

I shared none of these occupational, recreational, or hereditary taxes on my metabolism. Koakuma ate nearly as little as I did, though I am not certain if for a lack of appetite.

Once our meal was eaten, Remilia ordered a group of fairies to clear the dishes, and held up both hands to call the table to order.

“It’s time for gift giving,” she said. “Each of us will offer presents to Flandre, in order of seniority.” Remilia looked aside, to her sister. “Show gratitude for each gift. They have a lot of meaning for us, and so they should for you.”

Flandre bounced up and down in her chair, the crystals of her wings rattling. She brought up Lævateinn and held it in both hands. It had been near her for the whole meal.

“Presents!” she said. She grinned, showing her sharp front teeth.

“Yes,” said Remilia. “Presents. I’ll begin.” She turned her head to dining room entrance. “Fairies! Bring in the box!”

After a pause, the doors opened to a pair of fairies. They flew over tables as they approached us, carrying between them a wooden chest. They set the chest down on the table, where Remilia’s plate had been before.

“Thank you,” she told the fairies. “Return to your meals, if you’re not yet done.”

The youkai maids bowed to her before flying off. Remilia laid both hands on the chest, but did not open it.

“Now I don’t want this to seem flashier than it is,” she said, looking around the table to each of us. “I’ve worked on this for a while, but I decided to give it to Flandre only a few hours ago. I warn you all, this isn’t what it first appears to be.”

She flipped open the latch and lifted back the chest’s lid. She reached in with both hands and lifted, as if hefting up something heavy. She brought it from the box and held it up for all to see.

Our reactions were varied. Sakuya stared agape and put a hand over her mouth. Meiling stood abruptly, knocking her chair back and leaning forward to get a closer look. Both Koakuma and I gave wide-eyed gazes.

“Oh wow!” said Flandre, lifting her weight up with both hands on the table.

“That cannot be,” I said.

“How pretty,” said Koa.

Remilia held up a crystalline orb, roughly one foot in diameter. Its surface was not smooth, but instead covered with numerous faces like a carved diamond. Light refracted through its facets. It distorted and scattered color.

“You could not have found a so large gemstone of such quality,” I said. “They do not exist in Gensokyo, or anywhere.”

“You’re right.” Remilia set the orb on the table, but kept a hold on it. “This isn’t a gemstone. It’s glass. I’ve spent a lot of time making it look like a gem, and I managed to harden it with some conditioned spells, but a diamond will still cut it. It’s more for appearance than anything.” She turned to Flandre, offered the orb to her. “Here you go, birthday girl.”

Flandre could not have cared less whether the ball were a true gem. She took it in both hands and stuck her nose up against it. She laughed at how the table looked through the glass, our images fragmented like a kaleidoscope.

“I love it!” she said. She turned from her gift and threw herself at Remilia, wrapping her arms around her sister’s neck in a hug. One wing swung over the table. “Thank you, Remi!”

“You’re welcome,” said Remilia, patting her back. “Hold still for a second, so the others can see why I gave it to you.”

We saw. With Flandre’s wing now closer to the orb, the rainbow light from her crystal shards blended within the glass. They ceased to be seven different colors, and became solid white. The light overpowered the dining room’s sparklamps. The table and we sitting at it were bathed in the soft glow.

“Fascinating!” I said. “A human scientist once documented this effect. Run light through a prism, and it breaks into its base colors. Run those colors through another prism, and they reconstruct. Though if I recall correctly, the angles here should not result in—”

“That scientist wasn’t dealing with vampire wings, was he?” said Remilia.

“Besides,” said Sakuya. “It’s much prettier to see it in person than read about it in a book.”

“A fine gift,” I said. “Shall we move on to the next?”

“So we shall,” said Remilia. She let Flandre go, and helped her put the orb back into its chest. Flandre set it on the floor beside her, then returned to her seat. She soon began rocking her weight back and forth in the chair.

“What next?” she said. “Who wants to give me something?”

“It’s Patchouli’s turn,” said Remilia.

Everyone around the table looked to me.

“If it pleases you, Mistress, I request to withhold my gift until all others have been offered.”

Meiling leaned back in her chair, arms folded under her breasts. “You just want to show off.”

I looked to her. “Action cannot be classified as showing off if unadulterated qualities earn the merits of attention while absolutely bereft of extraneous attempts to artificially that attention.”

Meiling just tilted her head at me.

“Patchouli,” said Remilia. “Stop trying to confuse China. Why do you want to show your gift last?”

“The value of the gift would be lessened if offered during the party’s duration, rather than at its conclusion,” I said.

“What are you people talking about?” said Flandre, impatient. “Is someone going to give me something or what?”

“My turn, then.” Sakuya stood, curtsied to the table. “I had no time to prepare a proper gift. Meager as they are, please take these.”

She reached into her apron. The movement alarmed me at first, until I remembered that she kept her throwing knives in another pocket. She pulled out several slips of paper, smaller than typical spellcards. She handed them to Remilia, who gave them to her sister after looking at them.

Flandre took the cards, thumbing through them. They were each written with the same text enclosed in a small border.

“Sakuya meal ticket?” said Flandre.

“You can redeem each for one breakfast, lunch or dinner prepared by me,” said Sakuya. “You can order whatever you want, including one appetizer, entrée and dessert per ticket. No matter how long it takes to prepare. No matter how hard it is to find the ingredients.”

This was an open-ended gift. Sakuya disliked having her work schedule interrupted. Spending an entire day to prepare whatever ridiculous dish Flandre had in mind would be a severe annoyance to our head maid. For that reason, the offer impressed me.

Flandre smiled and raised one eyebrow in a sinister expression. On a little girl’s face, it was laughable, but it certainly indicated her blood relation to Remilia.

“You’ll make me....” Flandre let a dramatic pause hang. “Anything?”

“Yes,” said Sakuya. Her hands bunched tight on her apron.

I caught the subtext here, just barely. After Flandre had recovered from her stab wound this most recent summer, we understood that her craving for human flesh was gone.

Perhaps Sakuya intended to test that by offering this gift.

“Then you’ll be making a lot of those grilled cheese rice things,” said Flandre.

Sakuya visibly eased. I let out a breath I had not noticed I was holding. Remilia closed her eyes and shook her head. Meiling and Koakuma were oblivious.

“That’s a good present, Sakuya,” said Remilia. “Cooking is one of your strong points, a great way to put yourself into the gift.” She looked to the other end of the table, eager to change the subject. “Your turn, China.”

“Er-hem!” Meiling stood again, and again knocked her chair back. “Unlike the poor turnout we’ve had so far, I have a worthy gift for Flandre. An amazing gift. A magical gift.”

She earned questioning looks from everyone at the table. Meiling knew nothing about magic. Anything she thought to be magical would likely be moronic and terrible.

“Behold!” Meiling had a hand in her gown’s pocket, and she pulled out a strange object: a small metal disc, about two inches wide and a half inch deep. It was mostly brass-colored, with a band of darker metal around the circumference. She held this thing up with an outstretched arm. Squinting, I could see red printed letters on the brassy surface of it, but they were too small for me to read.

“And what is that supposed to be?” said Remilia.

“It looks like junk!” said Flandre.

Meiling laughed, ho-ho-ho! “So say the ignorant. But watch this mighty item’s mystical enchantments at work!”

She lowered the disc to table, held it just above a fork resting on the tablecloth, a piece of flatware the fairies had forgotten to collect. The fork wiggled – then suddenly, it jumped off the table and stuck to the metal disc with a metallic clink.

Meiling laughed again, ha-ha! She held up the disc and the fork clinging to it. She turned her hand around in a slow arc, giving us all a view.

“How did it do that?” said Koa.

“I haven’t seen that kind of magic before,” said Sakuya.

“I don’t think it’s magical,” said Remilia. “Patchouli?”

I held a hand out to Meiling. “May I?”

“If you wish.” Meiling handed the disc to me. “But don’t you dare try to unravel the secrets of this spell. It may be too much for even you.”

“Oh dear,” I said. “Somehow, if the gods are generous, I might summon the courage to face such a risk.”

The disc was cold and heavy in my hands. I pulled the fork off it, and held them an inch apart. They tugged together by an unseen force, as if naturally attracted to one another. I released the fork. It did not fall, but snapped back to the disc.

“This is magnetic, not magical,” I said. “Ore with this same property naturally occurs in some parts of Gensokyo’s mountain range, but it is rare. It attracts iron, nickel and cobalt. Our utensils are made of steel, which is refined of iron.”

I separated the fork from the magnet disc again, set the fork on the table. I looked over the orange-yellow surface of the disc, trying to read the red letters printed on it. The writing was blocky and uniform, too regular to have been rendered by hand.

“This piece of metal is very well refined. It was not mined from a magnetic lode.” I looked up at Meiling. “Where did you get this?”

“Um,” she said. “I found it.”

“Where?” I said.

“Outside.”

“Where outside?”

“On the ground.”

“What ground?”

Meiling held both arms out, pointing in opposite directions.

“Out there, stupid!” she said. “What other ground is there?”

My fingers gripped around the magnet disc, and I fought the temptation to throw it at her. I rejoined the disc and the fork, then stretched across the table and handed them to Flandre.

“Here you go, Little Mistress,” I said. “Happy birthday.”

Flandre took it from me, held it against her chest. “Thank you, Patchey!”

Meiling stared at Flandre for a moment, watching her pull the fork and disc apart, and giggle as they snapped back together.

“Hey!” said Meiling. “Don’t thank her! It’s my gift.”

“Then why did you give it to Flandre?” I said.

“Because it’s her birthday,” said Meiling. She had both hands on the table, leaning towards me.

“So it is her gift,” I said.

“Yes!”

“Then why are you still standing?”

Meiling opened her mouth, but had no retort.

“I...,” she said. “I don’t know.”

Meiling sunk back into her seat, hands folded in her lap.

I glanced around the table. “Idiocy checked for the moment. Shall we move on?”

“Please,” said Remilia. “Koa, it’s your turn.”

The youkai girl sitting beside me had been quiet for most of our meal and gift-giving. Now that the table’s attention turned to her, she slid back in her seat.

“It’s not all that special,” she said.

“We never asked for any special gift,” said Remilia. “Only one that you give.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Koa took a deep breath. “Here goes.”

She stood, her chair scooting back. Her face and posture showed sternness that surprised me. If we were not at a dinner party, one might her see a woman facing danger with resolute courage.

“I had trouble coming up with a gift,” said Koa. “Flandre, your sister has been so generous, giving me a place to sleep and food to eat. Lady Patchouli gives me work to do and teaches me new things. I don’t have anything to give back. I can’t cook like Sakuya. I’m not strong like Meiling, and I can’t do magic like Remilia or Patchouli. So for your birthday, I want to give you the only thing I can.” Koa leaned over and took Flandre’s hand in her own. “I’ll give you me.”

Each of us reacted differently upon hearing this. Flandre leaned back, bewildered. I put my hands on the table and stood, and I meant to have Koa clarify the meaning of her gift. Remilia smiled. Meiling was bored, leaned back in her chair and scratched at her ear.

“I already have a Koa,” said Flandre. “It’s you.”

“Yes,” said Koa, “but what I mean is, I’ll give you me. If you need someone to talk to, or play with, or to help you figure out something, then to come see me. I’ll be there for you. I’ll be what every girl needs: your friend.”

Some moments require expletives stronger than what Gensokyo’s modern language provides.

Flandre was not so cynical as I. Her brow bunched up, and her lips quivered. Her eyes welled. She slid off her chair and wrapped her arms around Koa in a hug. One of Flandre’s wings clipped the tabletop.

“That’s an excellent gift, Koa,” said Remilia. “Best one so far.”

“It’s very sweet of you,” said Sakuya.

“I’m all for this,” said Meiling. “Then Flandre will have someone else to thrash.”

“Friends?” Koa said.

Flandre nodded. “Friends!”

“No disrespect intended to this…,” my dinner threatened to jump up my throat, but I fought it down, “...emotional moment, but I request the opportunity to present Flandre the gift I have readied for her.”

“And about time,” said Remilia. “Koa, you can sit. It’s Patchouli’s turn.”

Koa nodded. She stood and came back to my side, but not before lifting Flandre’s yellow bangs and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. My jaw clenched and my stomach roiled. Much time would pass before I could again enjoy the foods I had eaten tonight.

The table settled, Koa taking her seat beside me. I remained standing.

“A fine celebration this has been,” I said. “Each gift so far has been a heartfelt reflection of she who gave it. This pattern will hold true.”

“I already know what you’re giving me, Patchey,” said Flandre. “It’s a book, isn’t it?”

“What makes you think so?”

“That’s all you do, books,” said Flandre. “You read books and talk about books and mess around with books in your basement full of books.”

“True,” I said. “Call me a bibliophile if you will, but books have no worth by the mere virtue of being books. It is their content that I desire. Therein lies the power to enlighten the mind and move the heart.”

“The book you’re gonna give me better be a Patchey dictionary,” said Flandre. “Then maybe I’ll understand you half the time.”

Remilia turned to the side stifling a laugh. Sakuya looked down, hiding her smile by taking interest in straightening her apron.

“I have that very goal in mind, Little Mistress. My gift is designed that you may understand.” I held both hands up to the ceiling. I raised my voice to a shout. “This is my gift! I, Patchouli Knowledge, offer you, Flandre Scarlet, that of which I hold most dear! The gift of mystery!”

The sparklamps around the dining room flashed too bright, then died all at once, flooding the space with utter darkness.