Chapter One

I've always enjoyed the days of early spring. Snow melts, the icicles hanging off my house shed water, the cherry blossoms peek out. It feels like new beginnings, which puts me in a good mood. I was even happy to clean up after dinner while a demon relaxed in my front room.

“Suika!” I yelled, patting my hands off on a dishcloth. “Tomorrow is shopping day. Did you want to come along? Marisa said she'd meet us.”

“Sure,” said the demon. “By the way, Reimu. We have a visitor.”

“Huh? Is someone out front?”

I walked out of the kitchen while untying my apron. As I rounded the corner, the sight of a newcomer startled me. I jumped, yelled out a Gagh! noise, pulled my hands into fists.

It wasn’t the oni lounging on the floor, half-covered by the kotatsu, that surprised me. The most beautiful and terrifying woman I’ve ever met stood there, facing me with a genial smile.

“God’s sake, Yukari!” I shouted. “You need to knock when you visit!”

The intruder pulled a lace under her chin, which let her remove her bonnet. She held it in both hands before her waist.

“I did as you asked, Reimu. Not once have I gapped into your bathroom since you scolded me.”

“Spirit of the law, not the letter!” I waved my hands at myself, showing my frumpy house wear with no headdress. “Look at me! I’m not presentable for guests.”

“I don’t mind, Reimu. I’ve seen you wearing much less than that.”

“I mind!” I held up both hands in a stop gesture. “But you know what? Fine. You’re here and you don’t care. Oh my, however rude of me. Suika and I just finished dinner, and I have no tea prepared for company. Whatever shall we do?”

Yukari smiled wider at my sarcasm. “No trouble, Reimu. I have some prepared.”

A thin ribbon of nonexistence broke into the air above the kotatsu. A fully-loaded tea tray fell out of it and landed on the tabletop, sounding out a CLANK and smaller clattering. There was even a saucer covered in dessert wafers.

“You’re the best guest, Yukari!” Suika sat up, snatched one of the wafers and crammed it into her mouth.

“My apologies for calling so late in the day,” said Yukari. “But today has been busy, and we had best not delay this talk. Let’s sit and visit.”

---

Any other woman in Gensokyo wearing a dress as ornate as Yukari’s would cringe to shove the skirt under a kotatsu. But when you’re thousands of years old and have access to an entire sealed country’s pool of magic, wrinkling expensive clothing must be less of a worry.

Suika and I had no such worry at all. I sat with my bottom half under the covers, and my oni laid back on the floor, her waist covered and her hands behind her head.

Yukari took a sip of tea. I bit into a wafer, pondering her colors and shape. Since she had become familiar to the human population of Gensokyo, men swooned over her. I don’t know if she returned anyone’s affections, even if only for a night.

She set the teacup down and took a deep breath, as if about to say something uncomfortable.

“As you know,” she began, “starting early last year, I pledged to take an interest in Gensokyo’s normal people. I’m eager to become your protector and benefactor.”

“Is that why you’re visiting?” I said. “I will dunk my head in another bucket, if it keeps you from doing anything disruptive. Don’t test me.”

Yukari chuckled, Hm hm hm. “Hopefully nothing so serious as last time. Did you hear that the historian in Jinri came up with a name for our romp with Phoenix last fall? She recorded it as the Battle of the Moonlit Fields.”

I took a deep breath of my own, remembering that night.

“That’s... awfully poetic. Aren't historians supposed to give really dry names to important battles? She could just call it the Battle of Gensokyo.”

“If only that would fit. Sadly, that was not the first big battle within the Boundary. I fear it won’t be the last.” She took another sip. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. With all the power I wield, even I can’t be everywhere at once. In the interest of protecting my favorite shrine maiden, I came to offer both a gift and some advice.”

“Hey!” said Suika, to the side. “That’s why you sent me here, right? I protected Reimu from nasty mutant fairies twice.”

“And you did a superb job of it, my good oni.” Yukari reached over to pat Suika’s arm. “But nor are you omniscient. So I have a tool that will aid you in caring for Reimu’s safety.”

Another gap, this one smaller, opened in front of me. It closed almost immediately, just after something fell out of it and thunked onto the tabletop.

“This is my gift,” said Yukari. “No longer will you need to rely on a pocket full of paper scraps for self-defense. Consider this the Reimu version of Marisa’s octagonal reactor.”

I picked it up. It looked like a glass marble, similar to a child’s toy, but big enough to take up the whole of my hand. It weighed less than I expected, its heft in my hand more like an empty bowl than a solid sphere of glass. Two colors curved against each other. One half was solid white but for a single red spot, and the other was red but for one white spot. These colors were just barely translucent. The setting sun’s light from my window cast a faint orange tint into both halves of the ball.

“This is styled like yin-yang,” I said.

“Astute,” said Yukari. “It’s an ancient Eastern symbol of balance, harmony between opposing forces. I believed this a fitting theme for your own personal defense. You’ve had to use violence several times in the past, but never because you wanted to destroy anyone.”

I cringed, but tried not to show it. Once, lost in the lands of a snow-covered Gensokyo, I had indeed acted violently with intent to destroy someone. That altercation ended badly for all involved.

“And, if I may be so arrogant,” Yukari put a hand on her chest, “I feel a craftsman’s pride in that yin-yang orb. You now hold the single greatest magic power ever wielded by today’s mortals since Yuyuko recovered the Saigyouji mantle from you.”

I tensed, then set the orb down and pulled my hands away from it.

“Is this some ridiculous super-weapon?” I said. “If it’s anything like Marisa’s hakkero, I’ll accidentally vaporize my shrine the first time a fairy gets into my bags of rice.”

She waved me off. “Please, Reimu. Do you think my art is even in the same order of magnitude as hers? Marisa can demolish a house with a giant energy beam. In half that time, I can clean the house, patch the leaky roof, and hang delightful paintings on the walls. I spent several days weaving complex, multi-layered instructions into that orb.”

“You went to all that trouble for me?” I said.

“Of course, for such was my promise. I took inspiration from Yuyuko’s mantle. We were all impressed at its function, the ability to wield powerful and intricate patterns while the caster knows nothing about magic.” She nodded toward the orb. “I tried to emulate that here, a spell set that would be potent even wielded by a novice.”

“So, um.” I swallowed. “When I had Yuyuko’s power, I shot butterflies at things just by wanting to. Is that how this orb will work?”

“Almost. It won’t use Yuyuko’s symbology, nor is it as strong as she is in the mortal world. It also lacks the sheer punch of Marisa’s spells. At most, your need is to ward off dangerous youkai, not flatten an entire village.”

“Aw. Flattening villages is the fun part.” Suika sat up just long enough to grab the last wafer, and then flopped back onto the floor. “Oh well, still have Marisa for that. And it’ll be fun to fight side-by-side with Reimu too.”

I picked up the yin-yang orb again. “Well, thank you, Yukari. I’ll keep it with me and hope I don’t need to use it.”

“That’s the spirit.” Yukari emptied her teacup, then poured herself another from the kettle. “Now, Reimu. The whole point of self-defense is to ensure the safety of your future, and this brings me to the second reason for my visit. I have some counseling to offer.”

“I politely refuse,” I said. “The last time you did that, I ended up with a housemate I didn’t want.”

Suika’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, what—”

“Calm down,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here, don’t get me wrong. But you both know, I wasn’t glad at the time.”

“But you admit,” said Yukari, “it turned out to be a good idea. Even Phoenix agreed with me. I don’t claim to have all the knowledge of a god, but I must be slightly better than a blind pig or a broken clock.”

I hmphed, looked down and stirred my tea. “Maybe.”

“To that end!” Yukari pushed forward. “My vow to care for Gensokyo’s humans compels me to ask you, Reimu, to think about your future.”

“Think what about it?”

“You know what I mean. In the human villages, girls your age have already been courted by interested young lads for a year or two.”

I dropped the teaspoon, letting it clink into the cup. I looked up at Yukari with my eyes wide.

“Yes,” she said. “After the courting, two young lovers choose to be wed. Then they start a family of their own. The joys of married life and raising children await them.”

I stared at her.

“Your life is comfortable up in this mountain shrine,” Yukari went on, “but even with Suika’s company, I suspect you’ll be lonely and unfulfilled to grow old as a spinster.”

“I am so confused as to why you would even care about this,” I said.

“Of course I care. It’s part of my self-appointed job to care.” She held up one finger. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Can you have children? Your original body was destroyed, presumably taking any human generative powers with it.”

That was not the first problem on my mind.

“I suspect it’s not so simple,” she said. “When the influx of spring power returned to Gensokyo and you three girls came along, the patterns of your spirits naturally grabbed seasonal energies in the correct proportion to make three human forms. You will have noticed that your new body has all the same daily – and monthly – functions that the old one did.”

Suika snickered.

“Nor should there be any religious concerns. In the outside world, liberal forms of your faith have allowed miko to marry and have children.” Yukari looked down to stir her own tea. “In any case, it would be a great boon to Gensokyo. You’ve been instrumental in solving no fewer than three crises that threatened our country with destruction. I would love to have your heroism make it into the next generation of humans.”

I smacked my hand on the table. “Okay! That’s enough. I’m not going to have you try to breed me.”

Yukari’s brow bunched up. “That’s an ugly way of putting it.”

“I agree!” I said. “Every time I go the village to pick up supplies, I see the married women there. They all look miserable! I always feel lucky not to be like them. You’re asking me to attach myself to a man, let him take control of my life, get pregnant, and then spend the next two decades keeping one or more children alive. That sounds horrible!”

Yukari’s eyes narrowed, as if she were studying a difficult subject.

“Does it?” she said. “Those women followed their desires. It’s quite normal for a young lady to seek and enjoy the affections of a man, and to create children out of love. I expected you to have the same feeling.”

“You expected wrong.”

“Don’t say that so quickly. We beings with hearts and minds are susceptible to fancies and frustrations, to excitement and boredom. If a person my age can be guilty of this, then someone your age definitely can. Maybe you’ve just not met the right man yet.” Yukari stroked her chin. “Or maybe the right... woman?”

“I’m not like Marisa either! If anything changes, I’ll let you know. But for right now,” I held up my arms crossed in an X-shape, “no chance, absolutely not, won’t happen.”

Yukari leaned back, looking at me. We passed a moment of uncomfortable silence. Suika was unfazed, trying to balance one of the teaspoons on her upper lip like a metal mustache.

“Well, I remain unconvinced,” said Yukari. “But nor did I mean to offend. I suppose that makes now a good time to conclude my visit. Say hello to Marisa for me tomorrow, and do think about what I’ve said. Have a good night.”

“I won’t—” I started to say, then Yukari fell through the floor as if someone had kicked open a silent trap door beneath her. I stood up to look over the kotatsu, and just caught a glimpse of the gap closing. She was gone.

Suika sat up. “She’s always like that, stops a conversation the instant she’s done talking. Maybe she’ll let us keep the tea set, though.”

Another gap opened on the tabletop. The cups, kettle, tray and saucers all fell into it and disappeared into darkness.

“Guess not.” Suika tossed the teaspoon she had been playing with into the gap, which closed after it.