Don’t know where I am. All I know is that someone vomited on this innocent cedar tree, and I have a hunch it was me. A slim patch of moonlight illuminates the bubbles of foam popping on rotting leaves, bringing to mind the many other times I’ve found myself in this situation. At least I won’t have to clean this up.

A lady’s white hand rests itself on my shoulder, imparting warmth through the drunken haze and chilly darkness. “Are you feeling better, PI?”

It’s none other than our groundskeeper, Miss Kagiyama. I turn and see that she’s kneeling right beside me, wearing her usual frilly, red dress and high boots. Her skin is pure white and shines even more in the pale light, which also brings out more of the blue in her bluish-green hair. She’s watching me with concerned, deep eyes that would look so warm and inviting, if it weren’t for the heavy bags underneath.

“Pro’ly,” I slur as I rise from my knees, using the defiled trunk as a fail-safe. There seem to be nothing but trees around, which means we’re probably smack-dab in the middle of the Great Youkai Forest. “Why’re we here?”

She stands as well and reminds me that even though I’m a bit taller than most in Gensokyo, I still need to look up slightly to meet her gaze. “You left a note on my door,” she replies with that dopey smile of hers. “The note read as such: ‘Ms. Kagiyama, please tell me when the next spirited away party is.’ It happens to be tonight, so I immediately went to your dwelling to let you know. You were adamant in attending, despite the poisoned state of your body. Therefore, I decided to join you.”

My memories conjure up a vague feeling that she’s right. I remember having a drink and leaving that note on Miss Kagiyama’s door. Then there was another drink, and another after that, then more besides. But it doesn’t matter now. I pat my coat down to make sure I have the essentials: wallet, apartment key, and cell phone. Then there’s the secret weapon—my trusty revolver—strapped at my lower left side. “Dunno why you bother with someone like me,” I mutter, “but if you’re comin’, you’re comin’. Let’s mosey.”

As I step forward, Miss Kagiyama snugly links her right arm with my left, narrowly missing my gun. “Then we shall walk as one.”

My first reaction is to separate, but the distinct feeling of something warm and soft rubbing against my arm persuades me otherwise. It also distracts me from the chirping blackness all around us, where anything could be lurking. While one arm is held by Miss Kagiyama, I keep my other tense. There’s six bullets in my revolver—that’s six chances to survive whatever might jump out at us.

I blurt out a random thought to stop the silence from creeping into my bones. “You uh, think I’ll be cursed for pukin’ on that tree?”

Her grip on me tightens just slightly as her eyes peer far ahead, beyond the trees, the forest, and the night itself. “Do not worry about that.”

###

Paths fade and return in this quiet part of the forest. I stumble through with maybe a hundredth of the grace of Miss Kagiyama, whom the branches seem to part ways for. Slowly, I pick up on the rich sound of a violin, accompanied by the chaotic blare of a brass trumpet and a chorus of laughter and chatter—the likes of which aren’t common in Gensokyo nowadays. The faintest of breezes carries the pleasing smells of tobacco smoke and meat to my nostrils. It all grows louder and stronger until we enter a clearing illuminated only by the strong light of the waxing moon above, where the instruments have crescendoed into a full party. Two spectral entertainers float above the crowd as their instruments hover beside them, seemingly playing themselves. A group of maybe fifty people dance and laugh below, made up of all kinds of humans and numerous types of youkai: bird girls with fluttering wings dancing with drunken old men, rabbit girls with flopping ears listening to the woes of businessmen, and canine girls with wagging tails chasing around village youth, among others whose features aren’t so obvious. It’s not quite the seedy underbelly of Gensokyo that the tengu want everyone to believe it is. But it’s no paradise, either.

I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the photograph of Shizuha Aki that Hatate gave me earlier today. Like most of Hatate’s thoughtography, she’s depicted her subject in a straightforward pose from the chest up against a solid background, like it’s a school photo. Even though Hatate mentioned that the two sisters were close to identical, there are plenty of differences to me. Shizuha Aki’s hair is a lighter blonde—though still not a match for the head of golden hair I spotted behind the apartment building—and her eyes are a piercing yellow. She’s also thinner in just about every aspect, giving her face a more gaunt and hardened mien compared to her sister. Maybe these kinds of things don’t mean anything to a youkai, or maybe Hatate was just spouting whatever nonsense came to her head before she could think, like usual.

Continuing down the photo, all she’s wearing is a red dress of some sort—no fruits attached. However, there does seem to be a couple of bright red leaves stuck in her hair. I wonder where she found those. But the relatively plain get-up is likely from Shizuha Aki’s wardrobe and not something that Hatate conjured up, since Hatate’s tastes border on the extreme when it comes to dressing up other women. The sight of little Q being pushed out in front of us in a bright red micro-bikini with dangling jingle bells from the tips still haunts me whenever I’m relieving myself of my demons, so to speak. And she hasn’t shown up to a Christmas party since.

“PI.” Miss Kagiyama leans in close and speaks directly into my ear, her warm breath and rich tone bypassing the fog of noise around us. Between that and the softness still pressing against my arm, it seems like there will be more demons to vanquish before bed tonight. “Are you alright? Is the poison still troubling you?”

The photo slips easily back into my coat pocket as I pull away from Miss Kagiyama just a bit. “Right as rain, sober as a bird. Just got lost in my thoughts.”

“It will not rain tonight, but there are plenty of birds here tonight, it seems. Unfortunately, I doubt they will be of sound mind. And I am glad you are feeling better. You are searching for Shizuha Aki, are you not? It does not seem like she is present.”

I lock eyes with Miss Kagiyama, who returns her usual pleasant smile. “Miss Kagiyama, do you know the Aki sisters? Shizuha, in particular?”

“Do I know them?” she repeats back to me while pondering. “I know them much less than I know you. Or Hatate. Or even the little kappa. But we have exchanged words, yes. Oh yes. Minoriko was insistent that I avoid their farm, especially during the autumn season. Shizuha was the one who would stop me if I wandered too close to them.”

So much for rural hospitality. She’s a little off, sure, but I can’t imagine treating Miss Kagiyama like a pest. Interesting that Minoriko would call out to her when she was in need of help, if that was their attitude. But that’s just how people can be. “So Shizuha Aki is used to playing scarecrow. Thanks, Miss Kagiyama. Just one last thing. How did you feel when Minoriko asked you for help with her sister?”

Miss Kagiyama watches me with blank eyes, unblinking. I might as well have asked her how to get to the moon. Though knowing Miss Kagiyama, she might have an answer for that one. After a few moments, she smiles. “How did I feel? I was hopeful that you might find Shizuha Aki. Does that help?”

Figures she would say something like that. She never gives anything away, or maybe there really is nothing to give in the first place. I still haven’t sussed her out yet, after knowing her for years. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a look around.”

She doesn’t let go. “Then we will take a look around.”

“Miss Kagiyama, I’m grateful for your help so far, but this is an investigation, I’ll remind you.”

Her smile doesn’t budge an inch. She hasn’t blinked in a while. The seconds pass.

I sigh for the show of it, more than anything. Every so often, she’ll insist on something like this. There’s no convincing her whenever it happens. And I may not know a lot about Miss Kagiyama herself, but she’s been wandering around Gensokyo ever since I met her and never had any problems. So she’s either very good at avoiding trouble, or trouble is very good at avoiding her. “Alright, fine. You’re a strong woman, Miss Kagiyama.”

She blinks and I swear her smile grows just a fraction of an inch. “You have said as much before.”

Instead of worrying about who I’m with, I’ll focus on what I’m going to do. I cast my gaze out into the crowd—as much as I can see, anyways. The moon is strong tonight, but it’s still not enough for me to see everything going on. They never use proper lights or even torches at these things, probably because it would just be a greater risk of attracting a tengu patrol. Most of the partygoers are gathered around the instruments, but there are some on the sidelines who are drinking and relaxing. Some blankets and cushions have even been thrown down for it. I spot someone who’s assisted me in the past sitting alone on one of the pillows: a small girl with gray mouse ears and a long, smoking pipe in one hand. While I consider whether it’s worth being in her debt, a purple bird youkai I recognize breaks free from the performance, clutching the hand of a young man. And further away from the music is a food stand of some sort, which must be the source of that meaty smell. Another bird youkai—I assume so because of the pink wings growing from her back—is behind the smoking grill, hard at work for a meager amount of customers.

[ ] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.
[ ] The pink bird youkai working the grill.
[ ] The mouse youkai smoking a pipe on a cushion.

[ X ] The purple bird youkai with her human partner.

That little bird owes me a favor and it’s time to collect. But with Miss Kagiyama wrapped around my arm, I feel like a schoolboy being led around by a teacher. Maybe that isn’t the worst thing in the world on its own, but it’s not the kind of reputation I want. “Miss Kagiyama, I’m okay with you tagging along, but I’d like my arm back.”

She considers my plight for a few moments, then surrenders her grip and takes a step away. Immediately, I feel the cool void on my entire left side, which for one second makes me wonder if I should have just let her hang on a while longer. But I have a job to do, and anything I feel about Miss Kagiyama’s body is just a cruel trick of my lonely brain. She seems to be touchy with anyone and everyone who will let her, and I’ve never been able to get a straight answer out of her for why. I think I’m just the one who lets her get away with it the most, for what might be less-than-chaste reasons.

Unfortunately, the little bird has run off somewhere, so I lead Miss Kagiyama around the crowd. As we pass by the loafers smoking and drinking on the sidelines, I meet eyes with the gray mouse-girl for just a moment. We share a brief nod of acknowledgement before I move along and she continues puffing smoke from her pipe. Nazrin is a valuable asset, but I have enough haughty youkai in my life to worry about. I’d rather call in a favor than make a new one.

The stares from the other partygoers, however, are less cordial. I’m enough of a pariah on my own, but I have Miss Kagiyama with me, who also gets side-eyed. I’m used to it, but I can’t help but feel bad for Miss Kagiyama, who ignores it all and beams her trademark smile to anyone within her radius. All of them avoid her wandering gaze. Even the ghostly violinist shoots us a glare from above as we go by the crowd, like she’s telling us to get our business done and get out. I guess once people realize that someone like me is poking around for information, the mood gets tense. Oh well. That’s their problem—until they decide to make it mine, that is.

“The Prismrivers are in good form tonight,” Miss Kagiyama remarks. “Playing an instrument seems like such a lovely pursuit.”

I’m starting to get nervous. Miss Kagiyama has a penchant for dancing; that in and of itself is fine. But something about the way she dances isn’t right. During a full moon long ago, I happened to catch her spinning in the road in front of the apartment building when I was coming back from a late-night bender. It was abhorrent. As cruel as it might sound, I never want to see that again. “Let’s stick to the case,” I tell her. “We can enjoy ourselves later.”

She whips her head around to face me, her eyes widened with joy. “Ah! Then let us take care of business.”

Shit. That was not how I should have worded it. I leave the topic hanging there for now and move along. That little bird has to be around here somewhere. Sure enough, I find her—up against a tree and locked in a fierce tongue battle with the young man she was pulling along earlier. Her black wings with crimson feathers twitch and spasm as she wraps one of her slender legs around his waist and grinds her hips against his. One of her hands grips his shoulderblade and digs in, while the other clutches a giant, open bottle of sake off to the side. The young man in question seems to still be in his teenage years and, judging from his complete lack of ability to match her aggressive movements, a virgin. He can’t quite decide where to put his hands: trying to caress her white-and-purple hair until he gets poked by one of her tiny horns, holding her up by the middle of her back, or fumbling with her ass. Her frilly, black skirt hikes up just a bit more than I’d like to see, revealing a surprisingly delicate-looking piece of violet cloth flossing her meaty thighs. A sweaty, fishy smell hits me like a fist to the nose. I know exactly what it is, of course, I just don’t want to think about it any longer.

“Surprisingly bold for a little bookworm,” I remark, to announce my presence and hopefully deescalate whatever this is. However, if they heard me, they don’t seem to care.

Miss Kagiyama watches the pair with a daze in her eyes that I can’t quite place but concerns me deeply. “I did not know a youkai could feast upon a human in such a way,” she says. “Should I enjoy watching them?”

Yeah, I have to bring an end to this. Last thing I need is for Miss Kagiyama to get any funny ideas. “Tokiko! I’m here to collect your debt!”

The little bird freezes and pries her mouth off her partner, turning around to gape at Miss Kagiyama and me in astonishment as a trail of drool slides down her chin. Her cheeks are flushed bright red and I can see the steamy look in her eyes turn to panic in real-time. “Ah! Th-the detective and Hina Kagiyama?!”

The young man catches on a bit late, still attempting to go at it for a moment before realizing that the fun times are over. They let each other go and he faces me with that jumpy look like he’s in the midst of deciding whether to fight or fly. He seems like a typical youth closer to poverty than not: short hair, tired eyes, plain clothes, and a dirty face like he came straight here from second shift at a factory. I’m sure it didn’t take much convincing on Tokiko’s part for him to end up in the spot he’s in.

“That’s us,” I answer. “Sorry for uh, intruding.”

Tokiko hurriedly wipes her mouth and flattens her skirt. “N-no, I um, uh, was just, um...”

Her partner steps between us, having collected himself much faster. Seems like he decided to fight instead of fly. Brave kid. “Is something wrong here, Tokiko?” he asks his tongue boxing opponent, not letting his dark eyes waver from mine.

I put on my best business smile. It would be a waste of time and energy to have to knock some horny teenager out because of a misunderstanding. “Not at all,” I answer for her. “Just need a few questions answered. I helped her out of a rough spot a while ago, and she still owes me for that. In fact, you could help too.”

This deflates him enough to where he steps aside and just seems confused by the situation. He turns back to Tokiko, who finally seems to be able to string together a coherent sentence. “He caught me stealing books from the second-hand shop,” she explains quickly. “He worked it out to where I can borrow old books from there sometimes.”

The realization hits him and he turns back to me with a squinted, wary look. “Oh. You’re that detective or whatever that messes with youkai all the time? I’ve heard the rumors.”

“Nothing good, I bet,” I remark quickly, as I pull out Shizuha Aki’s thoughtographed photo and hold it out to them. “Could the two of you take a look at this? Have you seen this woman hanging around here before? Goes by the name of Shizuha Aki.”

“Never heard of her,” the youth speaks up first. “And honestly, it’s too dark to see worth a damn here.”

“Oh!” Tokiko reacts with a start. Unfortunately, it’s not to Shizuha Aki’s photo. “I forgot about Mystia’s—um, I mean, we can get you some grilled lamprey after this that will help.”

Is that what that pink bird youkai was grilling, lamprey? And I don’t remember lamprey ever being a cure for night blindness. Something’s suspicious about all that, but it’s not my business until someone pays for it to be.

Tokiko refocuses on the photo and thinks. “Actually, I remember seeing someone like this last week. She looked pretty standoffish. I didn’t talk to her.”

“Did anyone speak to her?” I press her.

“Umm, no. Not that I saw. A few minutes later, she was gone.”

Damn. Not much to go on, but it’s something. Maybe Shizuha Aki was trying to find that pest of a youkai here, but came up empty-handed. “Thanks. If you see her, find me as soon as you can.”

She blinks a couple of times. “Is that all? Are we even now?”

I grin. “Hmm, you’re right, that isn’t much of a favor compared to how much I had to kiss Rinnosuke’s ass to get him to let you borrow books from him. How about that bottle of sake too? Then we’re even.”

She wastes no time thrusting the bottle of sake at me. When I get my hands on it, I can feel that it’s a little more than half-full. They were probably too focused on drinking each other’s fluids, instead. “We’re even then,” she says. “I’ll keep an eye out for your Satsuki person.”

“Shizuha,” I correct her. “Shizuha Aki.”

“Shi-zu-ha A-ki,” she repeats to herself slowly. “Okay. Shizuha Aki. Got it.”

The young man watches Tokiko’s mind work with a silly look on his face, like something inside of him is being completed. I remember that expression. It never boded well for me. “Good,” I conclude. “Now you two can go back to uh, what you were doing.”

Tokiko’s face flushes again, before she grabs the young man’s hand and whisks him away in the direction of that pink bird youkai’s grill stand. The young man turns back to look at me for just a second, then returns his full attention to his whirlwind romance.

Shizuha Aki’s photo goes back into my coat pocket. I probably can’t count on that birdbrain, but it’s worth a shot. Suddenly, I remember that Miss Kagiyama is standing next to me. “Well?” I ask her. “Enjoying yourself so far?”

Her face lights up. “Of course! It is such a wonder to watch the decisions you make while working. For example, why did you not warn that young man against fraternizing with such a youkai? She could very well devour his heart and body, should they continue to meet.”

Now that’s a good question, and normally I would blow it off. But I’m more inclined to answer if Miss Kagiyama is the one asking. “He’s young, but I can’t exactly call him a child if he’s willing to get down and dirty like that. And Tokiko can’t manipulate the microwave at a Kappa Mart, let alone a person. No, he’s making his own choices. If anything, he might end up being the one who devours her.”

Miss Kagiyama just smiles. “I am not certain I understand your perspective, but I enjoy hearing it nonetheless.”

Again, I really don’t see what she gets out of all this. But I guess I could offer her something more tangible. I hold up the sake bottle. “Would you like to split this, Miss Kagiyama? I don’t think we’ll find any cups or glasses here though.”

She nods with pep. “I would like nothing better!”

A lady who doesn’t mind drinking straight from the bottle shoots up a few points in my book. I pass it to her first. She immediately puts the bottle to her mouth and turns it up towards the sky. Many hearty gulps later, she lowers it and hands it back to me while licking her lips. “I have taken exactly half of what remained in the bottle.”

I gape at her for only a second, before realizing I should have expected nothing less and accept the bottle back. “I can see that. Definitely impressive, but usually the idea of drinking together is that we drink, uh, together.”

“But now I can watch you drink, uninterrupted. Or perhaps you would like to drink as swiftly as I did, so that we can resume the investigation?”

It isn’t often that I guzzle sake down like that, but given how lukewarm it feels and how cheap it smells, maybe Miss Kagiyama has the right idea. I choke down the rest of the bitter drink all at once, closing my eyes and focusing on my throat muscles. Tastes like it was made in someone’s kitchen sink, but at least it burns nice.

Miss Kagiyama has closed her eyes, and seems to be nodding along to the rhythm of the music—and I use the term loosely. The smooth violin is contrasted so harshly now by the random, bombastic trumpet flares that it sounds more like an argument than a piece of art. I can’t help but feel like something is missing. Yet the crowd loves it. Humans and youkai alike are captivated by the chaotic flow of notes and tones. “Do you come to these things often, Miss Kagiyama?”

She opens her eyes but continues bobbing her head. “Not as often as I would like. I am known to most of the youkai here, and I do not feel like my presence is suffered here lightly.”

What a way to put it. Turns out she’s plenty aware of her own reputation, and came here to have a good time in spite of it. I can respect that. “What could they possibly have against you? You’re gentle, you’re helpful, and you’re not a bad looker either. I’ve never understood why you’re such a pariah.”

Her head stops bobbing, and her smile lowers. “Oh, I am no pariah. That is something I am quite familiar with. No, this is nothing.” Then she perks up again. “I enjoy my life now. And that includes you, Hatate, and the little kappa as well. But we need to return to the investigation, no?”

Pretty words aside, she really can evade a question when she wants to. But she’s right. “One day I’ll find out what makes you tick, Miss Kagiyama. Just not tonight, apparently.”

She blinks a few times. “Are you speaking of a clock? I do not carry one, unfortunately.”

I restrain a sigh. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s see if we can talk to anyone else.”

Miss Kagiyama and I make a few laps, asking any lone partygoers or occasionally a pair if they’ve ever seen Shizuha Aki. None of them had. I keep an eye out for Nazrin, but it seems like she’s already left. Perhaps she smelled what I’m up to and decided she didn’t want any part of it. Or, maybe she just caught a whiff of cheese somewhere, who knows. Wait a minute—as a mouse youkai, wouldn’t she be considered a pest and a small fry? I just can’t imagine her tormenting the Aki sisters’ fields for so long. She acts all high-and-mighty, but she’s just a cowardly pipsqueak when push comes to shove. Shizuha Aki would be able to chase her off, no problem. I thought I might be able to ask whoever’s running that grill stand, but that pink bird youkai got awful busy once everyone realized that they need some grilled meat to settle a stomach full of cheap booze.

By this point, I’m tired. The sake from earlier has made its rounds through my bloodstream, on top of what was already there. My feet ache and my stomach gurgles. Just when I’m feeling silly enough to call it quits for tonight, I get a tap on my shoulder. At first I think it’s Miss Kagiyama, but she’s standing on my other side. I turn around and see a young woman wearing a brown cap that’s a size too large for her, causing the visor to slump down towards her brow and cover most of her eyes. She has a big, toothy business smile, with a matching brown jacket and shorts. “Hello there! My friend told me you were asking around about Shizuha Aki. Is that true?”

There’s something overly-chipper and high-pitched about her voice that makes her suspicious, but if she’s willing to come right up to me and talk about Shizuha Aki, then I can’t exactly turn her away. “Yeah, that’s right. She’s been missing for about a week. Do you know anything?”

“I was visiting the Eientei branch clinic a couple nights ago—just to pick up some, err, emergency feminine products on the cheap—and happened to spot her in the waiting room looking pretty beat-up. Like she lost a fight.”

The clinic? That’s awfully serendipitous. “You’re certain it was her? Did you speak with her at all?”

She nods. “Believe me mister, I don’t get names and faces wrong. I didn’t talk to her though. Even a nosy gal like me can tell when someone wants to be left alone.”

Somehow, I don’t believe that. But if nobody else here knows Shizuha Aki by name, then I can only assume this girl knows her personally. “Who are you?”

Her grin gets a degree more wicked. “Oh, just someone around. But right now, I’d be more worried about your companion causing a little unfortunate incident of her own.”

The girl points to where Miss Kagiyama was standing, and I turn to suddenly realize that Miss Kagiyama is no longer there. I look around, but my companion, as the girl put it, is nowhere in sight. She had been pretty quiet when it came to me talking to others, so I didn’t even notice. Did she end up getting drunk from chugging that sake?

I look back to the girl, and now she’s gone too. Fuck. I didn’t hallucinate all of that, did I? The only person I can ask has wandered off. Wait, if that girl said that Miss Kagiyama was about to start an incident, does that mean—

A cry suddenly rings out from the center of the crowd, below the performers. With some people cleared away, I can see Miss Kagiyama there, spinning. Spinning that dance that makes my stomach sink and shiver and fold up in itself. Spinning that dance that makes the most inoffensive woman emit the foulest aura of unease and bitterness. Spinning that dance that spirals me into a time that has been forgotten by everyone except me, the person who wants to forget most but can’t. Can’t, because someone has to remember. Can’t, because then what will become of those girls who were bled out and carved like livestock in the streets?

The music attempts to swell to cover Miss Kagiyama’s disturbance up, but there’s no stopping it. More cries and laughter. Then—

CRACKLE BOOM!

An explosion, but it’s not the friendly, happenstance kind of explosion from Q getting a little carried away in the workshop. No, it’s a bolt of lightning from a clear sky that strikes one of the nearby trees, setting it on fire. One of the youkai, a large woman with red hair, rips the tree out of the ground and swings it around in the midst of frantic cheers, like she’s rallying for something. Miss Kagiyama keeps twirling about, giggling to herself, seemingly dead to everything around her. Even when the youkai woman hurls the burning tree at her, she shifts out of the way effortlessly, letting it crash and break apart against the ground behind her with a loud snap that ends some unspoken truce between all these youkai. Because that’s exactly when the danmaku starts flying.

The humans hit the ground and scurry away, like I’m doing. I thought Miss Kagiyama’s performance only affected me like that. Is that why she isn’t so welcome here? A bright pink orb of something strikes the grass next to me with a loud thwack, so I stop thinking and scurry a little faster behind a nearby tree just thick enough to count as some kind of cover. I’m pale, sweaty, and pregnant with nausea, so I decide to abort it all by jabbing myself in that perfect spot right in the center of my stomach that makes me retch and cringe and finally puke it all out. Once more, I cover an innocent tree trunk in bubbling bile and shitty, regurgitated booze. When will my crimes end?

Through all the shouts and screams and whizzing danmaku bullets, the two instruments keep playing even as their players start firing danmaku of their own at each other. It’s all an orchestra, at this point. And it’s loud. So damned loud. I want to scream just to hear anything else, but I’m terrified that she’s still out there somewhere. Watching the chaos. Waiting for me to cry out. Prepared to come running.

I pull myself up and turn around just in time to see the young man who was with Tokiko earlier, sprinting through the trees—but not away from the mess behind me. No, he’s running in the opposite direction of something else deeper in the forest, where the moon’s light can’t penetrate the pitch-blackness. Running as fast as he can, eyes wider than dinner plates. Never looking back once. No madness or shame. Just pure fear. No more whirlwind romance.

A girl screams from that same direction the youth is running from—loud, ringing, like murder. It’s a familiar scream.

There’s nothing for me in that darkness. My head knows that. Even my heart knows that. I had better just run away and get out of this forest with the rest of the smart ones. Back to the apartment, back home. Then I’ll put this night behind me and keep looking for Shizuha Aki in the morning. I have a case, after all. I need to focus on the case. I can’t go off chasing after every scream in Gensokyo. I can’t save every little bird from being hopelessly, ruthlessly violated.

But I can’t let myself stop trying, either. The truth is out there. My gun is ready. It’s probably more ready than I am. But one foot goes in front of the other, and deeper into the forest I go.

My right hand clutches the handle of my revolver through a cold layer of sweat, and I keep my left held up and out in front of my face to deflect any stray branches that might otherwise poke an eye out. The withered scraps of fallen, gray leaves on the forest floor prevent me from being silent, so I move as fast as I can without risking smacking into a tree trunk head-on. The noises behind me fade away and nothing ahead fills the void—no birds, no insects, not anything. They must be just as scared of whatever’s in here as I am.

Just ahead of me, pale light from the moon shines down on a small clearing behind some trees. As quietly as I can, I creep up to the tree trunk and listen to what’s on the other side: a sickening, wet gulping noise, and muffled screams.

No time to prepare. Could already be too late. Two breaths: the first to calm down, and the second to focus. Then I grip my revolver with both hands and emerge from the trees, pointing at whatever it is.

I was wrong. The moonlight doesn’t reach down here. Instead, a large, ghostly serpent lays in the middle of the clearing, glowing with a sinister light that fills the grassy clearing. Its jaws are open and disjointed, gradually slipping around Tokiko’s body and engulfing her head-first. Her red, half-consumed wings struggle weakly, and her legs—wet with a frothy mixture of blood and the beast’s saliva—squirm and attempt vainly to dig into the dirt. When I notice that its eyes, those two blood-red orbs, have shifted to me, my insides twist and contort. All of the energy in my body starts to drain down through my legs and out my feet. Is it a snake, or some kind of dragon? I can’t tell. But I do know one thing.

This monster will devour me completely.

Before the blood fully drains from my hands, I squeeze the trigger three times, without regard to accuracy or recoil. Each time, a burst of light from my gun roars in the air and sends a lead bullet at the creature. I don’t know where or even if they all land, but the snake suddenly lurches upward with Tokiko still hanging in its mouth, and swings its whole body towards me.

It hits me before I can even see it. And then I see no more.

###

When I open my eyes, I’m greeted by the sight of familiar, beige walls. It’s my bedroom, and someone has taken the courtesy of tucking me into my queen-sized bed buck naked. The room is nice and dark, except for the offending sunlight peeking through the blinds. The digital alarm clock next to me displays the time, 9:16 AM, with red numbers. A later start than usual, but unsurprising given the circumstances. My head, arms, legs, and chest ache just from laying here, but I don’t seem to be bandaged or otherwise externally injured. Just battered. I gather all of my strength and hoist myself up and off the mattress, gritting my teeth through the surge of pain from my joints and muscles.

Next to my alarm clock on the nightstand is my gun, with a note on top of it: I am sorry. It's a girlish print that’s easy to recognize from the notes I find around the apartment complex every once in a while, warning of slippery floors, broken washing machines, or malfunctioning lights. It’s Miss Kagiyama’s handwriting. Was she the one who brought me back and put me in bed? I don’t know how else I would have made it out of that predicament. My revolver seems to be in good condition, sans three bullets. I need to buy more ammo—if Rinnosuke even has any in stock.

Then I become distinctly aware of something else in the room breathing. I look behind me, and on the other side of the bed is a small girl with messy, blonde hair that goes down to her shoulders. Her white face is round—and frankly, very cute—without so much as a blemish on it. Maybe that snake really did kill me, so I woke up next to an angel. She definitely isn’t Shizuha Aki, but I can’t place why this little golden head is familiar somehow. Her collarbone is exposed, so I take a quick peek under the blanket just to see if my suspicion is correct. And yep, she’s just as naked as I am. She’s also certainly a child, or at least something that’s decided to take the form of a child.

This is an extremely compromising situation to be in. I can somewhat understand why Miss Kagiyama wouldn’t dress me before putting me in bed. But what’s the deal with this girl? I assumed Miss Kagiyama was apologizing about what happened at the party, but what if it’s something else entirely? Is there something I’m forgetting?

She suddenly moves and my heart leaps out of my chest. But she’s just rolling over to cover herself with more blankets. I sigh in relief, and dedicate myself to slowly and quietly pulling a fresh pair of underwear out of the nearby dresser, then grabbing my robe hanging off the door. After covering the essentials, I feel much less tense around this mystery girl. I’m writing out a list of what I need to do in my head, but only one thing can come first:

[ ] Try to wake the girl up.
[ ] Leave her for now and check on Miss Kagiyama upstairs.
[ ] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.

[ X ] Slip into the living room and log into #kakashi to report to Hatate.

The first thing I should do is check in with Hatate. It’s not that I’m excited to attempt recounting the night’s events with her, but if there’s one thing she does around here, it’s telling people what to do. And I could certainly use a bit of guidance in this kind of situation. For now, I’m going to have to let sleeping girls lie. She’s made herself cozy enough anyways. In the time it took for me to ponder what to do, she’s wrapped herself up in a thick cocoon made out of my bedding. There’s the smallest grin of satisfaction on her face, which is otherwise more gaunt than I’d like to see. Her eyes look kind of dopey when shut, stirring feelings of pity inside me rather than envy at her comfort. No, my hunch tells me that she’s no threat like this. If she’s a youkai worth worrying about, I would have woke up in her stomach this morning. Instead, we were beside each other. Naked. If she turns out to be a human, that would bring on its own concerns.

I carefully bump my bedroom door open and slip out of it, leaving it hanging a few inches so that I might hear the girl if she wakes up. The living room seems exactly how I left it before I went out last night: the two couches pushed together and facing the television, the empty cup of shochu I finished off right before I walked out of the door, and my laptop computer closed and resting on the far cushion. Still no sign of the clothes I was wearing. If they were somehow lost in all the chaos last night, then that would be extremely unfortunate. It’s my favorite coat, after all. Nice pockets.

Even though I need to report to Hatate first, that doesn’t mean I can jump right out of bed and into a conversation with her. I soothe my dry throat with some lukewarm tap water from the sink, then grab the remote and turn the television on, swiftly using the volume buttons afterward to lower the sound to a minimum. A commercial is playing, featuring a typical black-haired, dark-eyed housewife very awkwardly using a fusion of a boxing glove and an accordion to grab something off a shelf. I realize that I might as well switch on the closed captioning if I’m going to have the volume on this low, and fumble around with the menu for a bit in order to make it so. It’s not something I thought I would need until my hearing starts to go in the next twenty years or so— if I make it that long. I manage to find the option for it just in time for the next program to start.

“The BUNBUNMARU Mid-Morning Report” graphic flashes at the center of the screen in a thick, curvy, sky-blue font, along with a jingle that’s heavy, dramatic, and desperate for attention. Another line of text, a contrasting red, slides below the title: “Featuring reporter AYA SHAMEIMARU.” Fancy. The words fade out as the camera dollies in and down on Aya Shameimaru herself sitting at the center of her news desk in all her postured glory. The made-up brunette sports a white, collared blouse tied with a black ribbon above her bulging chest, and a small, red hat perched at the very top of her head. Her ears are pointed, just like Hatate’s are. Seemingly preoccupied with the blank sheets of white paper in her hands, Aya Shameimaru taps them once on the smooth, wooden surface of the desk and turns directly to the camera as if somehow just noticing it. “Good morning, Gensokyo! This is Aya Shameimaru of the Bunbunmaru Report, here with our mid-morning broadcast. Our top story carries on from earlier this morning.”

To her right, blood-red words appear: “SPIRITED AWAY RAMPAGE.” And below that, something that makes my mouth drop. It’s the absolute last thing I wanted to see: Miss Kagiyama, photographed mid-spin from below, and backlit from the moonlight peeking through the canopy of the forest. The angle and her disassociated stare impart a terrifying dominance that, in all honesty, doesn’t look half-bad on her. In the background, a rainbow of danmaku are flying in all directions, framing her within various colors of light. At the very bottom is the disclaimer, “Photography by A. Shameimaru.” Well then, all due credit to Aya Shameimaru. She certainly has a knack for taking photos—unlike her self-proclaimed rival, one Hatate Himekaidou. It’s ironic that Hatate’s imagination produces the most stale, posed photographs imaginable, while Aya Shameimaru can snap a photo like this in the middle of a catastrophe. Not that I can praise Aya Shameimaru any more than that. I may not know her personally, and I can only be skeptical of Hatate’s one-sided claims that have been so eloquently spelled out time and time again in the Kakashi chatroom, but Aya Shameimaru has the same artificial smile and measured inflections as any tengu they think is attractive enough to put in front of a camera and sing exactly how they want. If it weren’t for Hatate blaming anything that goes wrong in her life on Aya Shameimaru, I’d only know her as a mid-rate daytime reporter who’s maybe ten percent more watchable than any of the others. It’s just strange that she was able to show up and take that photo so quickly. I don’t remember spotting a tengu or anyone else with a camera, but it was all a mess after the shots started flying. Maybe she really is as fast as they claim.

“Last night, at 1:57, white wolf sentries were made aware of a destructive disturbance in the Great Youkai Forest,” she begins reporting. “Witnesses reported an outbreak of youkai-on-youkai violence at a local ‘spirited away’ party. There were over fifty humans and youkai present when the youkai in attendance began firing danmaku at each other. The emergency room at the Eientei Branch Hospital admitted over twenty humans with danmaku-related injuries, but thankfully, no deaths have been reported—yet. A fire was also started that took firefighters over two hours to contain. Mountain authorities made a comment to the press this morning, thanking the volunteer firefighters who responded to the danger and urging the people of Gensokyo to avoid unsanctioned gatherings, especially if you suspect youkai amongst the attendees.”

As the program continues to show some footage of that news conference, I sink a little further into the couch. Well, shit. I expected maybe the ruckus last night could end up on the news, but not as top billing with Miss Kagiyama showcased on the graphic. The only thing that might have been worse is if it were me, but Hatate has told me in the past that the crow tengu don’t want to draw attention to me because they’re interested in people who cause problems and not people who solve them. Whether that’s ultimately true, or Hatate’s just talking out of her fat ass like usual, remains to be seen. And speaking of Hatate, I don’t expect her to be happy about any of this. She’ll be livid Aya Shameimaru beat her to another scoop—one that her own subordinates may have started.

My eyes wander towards the crack in my bedroom door. Maybe that girl has the right idea. I could go back to bed, reclaim my covers, and wake up in a few hours like I had never seen the broadcast. But Hatate’s fury always makes its way to me eventually. I might as well go up against her on my own terms. So, instead of going for the bedroom, I reach over and grab my laptop to open the Kappanet Relay Chat client we use. It’s actually a program that Q developed herself: nKRC. The original name for it was ntrKRC, but that quickly changed after a conversation she had with a certain porn-addled member of our group that I was also unfortunate enough to be online for.

-----

*** nKRC, connecting to server...successful!
*** now talking in #kakashi as PI
*** 2 other users online
*** topic is: official channel for kakashi spirit news THE TRUTH | SEND NUDES TO PSYCHICREPORTER@TENGU.GOV | PI’s FETISH LIST: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QIDZNbMZAfxRrJKrZK_-iq8G1y5vz_TJQN5F_1ozgV0/edit?usp=sharing | SHAMEIMARU TERROR LEVEL: ~BLACK~ |
<~internethatatemachine> i dont need that moon doctor to tell me what i already know about my funhole
<~internethatatemachine> there he is
<AgentQ> Good morning, PI.
<PI> Do you really call it a funhole just like that?
<PI> And good morning Q
<~internethatatemachine> im not going to dignify that with an answer
<AgentQ> Are you feeling OK, PI?
<PI> Not really honestly
<~internethatatemachine> yeah i bet
<PI> Did Ms. Kagiyama tell you what happened?
<~internethatatemachine> oh i bet she thinks she did
<~internethatatemachine> told me she put you back in your room and you were fine
<~internethatatemachine> i say ok whatever it happens at those things ill hear about it in the morning
<~internethatatemachine> take a power nap
<~internethatatemachine> then turn on the tv for my morning hatewatch session and what do i see
<~internethatatemachine> that fake titted shameimaru WHORE putting hina front and center on the morning news
<~internethatatemachine> now hina wont answer her phone
<~internethatatemachine> so i want to hear it from you
<PI> Well she wanted to come along and wouldn’t take no for an answer
<PI> I was showing the photo around
<PI> We split a bottle of sake
<~internethatatemachine> oh for fucks sake
<~internethatatemachine> you got her wasted didnt you
<PI> It wasn’t even a full bottle of sake
<~internethatatemachine> please tell me you didnt try to hook up with her
<PI> I didn’t
<PI> Someone came up to me to talk about Shizuha Aki and she just vanished
<PI> That’s when everything went to shit
<~internethatatemachine> so how did you get out of there
<PI> No clue
<PI> I heard a scream and when I went to check I got knocked out by something
<PI> Next thing I know I wake up naked next to some kid and a note from Ms. Kagiyama saying sorry
<~internethatatemachine> woah woah woah
<~internethatatemachine> what kid
<PI> I don’t know either
<~internethatatemachine> hina didnt mention anything about a kid
<PI> Shes blonde and looks young
<~internethatatemachine> how young
<PI> Maybe twelve if she’s a human
<~internethatatemachine> well what about her clothes
<~internethatatemachine> if shes a youkai then i might recognize her outfit
<PI> She’s naked too
<~internethatatemachine> HAHAHA holy shit
<AgentQ> Oh my.
<~internethatatemachine> i cant even be mad anymore
<~internethatatemachine> one of you causes a riot and the other blacks out and fucks a kid
<~internethatatemachine> where is lucy when i need her most
<PI> I never said anything about sex with Ms. Kagiyama or that girl
<~internethatatemachine> and this is great for you Q
<~internethatatemachine> now we have confirmation that your his type
<AgentQ> Hatate.
<AgentQ> That’s inappropriate.
<AgentQ> And actually, it would be “you’re his type.”
<PI> I don’t think I was in a state to do anything
<PI> She was probably caught up in the riot and followed us back here
<PI> Ms. Kagiyama felt bad for her and let her in and the note was apologizing for that
<PI> Then she put me to bed without any clothes on probably because she didn’t think dressing me for bed was necessary
<~internethatatemachine> and the little girl just decided to also sleep naked next to you because
<PI> Clothes got tore up by danmaku probably
<~internethatatemachine> ok whatever you say
<~internethatatemachine> so is your new sex friend human or youkai
<PI> No sex no friend and I don’t know
<~internethatatemachine> well wake her up and figure out who she is
<PI> The kid can sleep some more
<~internethatatemachine> you may not remember but you already violated her way more than interrupting her beauty sleep
<~internethatatemachine> just use your dick if that makes you feel better about it
<~internethatatemachine> she should still be plenty stretched out
<~internethatatemachine> or not i dunno i still dont have that measurement
<PI> Well if the choice is me talking to her or staying here to read how you jill yourself off to the idea of me fucking a kid then my choice is clear
<~internethatatemachine> speaking of fucking a kid you didnt even apologize to Q yet
<PI> For?
<AgentQ> Hatate, that really isn’t necessary.
<AgentQ> I don’t blame PI for what happened.
<~internethatatemachine> our little blue firefighter was up nice and early putting out the mess you started
<AgentQ> And I’m not a child.
<PI> You’re a volunteer firefighter, Q?
<AgentQ> Tengu law mandates that every kappa must serve at least one month every year in the volunteer firefighter brigade.
<PI> That’s not really volunteering then is it?
<AgentQ> No. But that’s what they call it.
<PI> Well for what it’s worth it was a random lightning strike that caused the fire
<PI> Happened right after Ms. Kagiyama started spinning
<~internethatatemachine> yeah that sounds about right
<AgentQ> Mmm.
<PI> Am I ever going to get an explanation about what her deal is?
<~internethatatemachine> nothing you can do about it
<~internethatatemachine> and not my story to tell
<~internethatatemachine> instead tell me about shizuha
<PI> Someone saw her at the clinic recently
<~internethatatemachine> well your next step is clear for that at least
<~internethatatemachine> but im sure youll make that into a scene too
<~internethatatemachine> and the shameimaru menace wi
<~internethatatemachine> DOG ALERT
<~internethatatemachine> fuck
***internethatatemachine (psychicreporter@tengu.gov) has disconnected

-----

I freeze at my keyboard. Hatate is a paranoid spastic and can normally be ignored when she starts throwing out capital letters, but this is one of the few instances where we have shared anxiety. There’s not much I can do to prepare if the “dog” is already on the premises, so I just close my laptop, turn off the television, and wait in silence for the inevitable knock.

The claps of wood hitting concrete suddenly appear a short distance away from my door, because that’s probably where she touched down. But it never comes right up to my door, like I expect. Instead, it fades away. Then I suddenly hear it again: traveling up the steps and along the second floor walkway.

Fuck. She’s after Miss Kagiyama. It doesn’t take much to assume why, given the news report. I dash back into the bedroom and throw on the first pieces of clothing I can get my hands on—as long as it’s a shirt, pants, and some socks it’s good. The girl just keeps on snoozing away. Then it’s to the bathroom, to brush my teeth for about five seconds and throw some water on my face to get off some of the morning grime. As much as possible, I don’t want to give off the impression that I’m rushing up there, so I have to look like I made some effort to be presentable. Finally, I go to the front door and slip on my brown loafers. They seem to have held up pretty well after last night, so I’m good to go out.

Outside under the gray sky, a breath of cold air sobers me up. Miss Kagiyama may be strange, and she may be in a mood after whatever happened last night, but she isn’t stupid. She knows what she can and can’t say, at least when it comes to my work. So I take another breath, hold it in, and feel the chill creep through my body. After a long exhale, I’m ready. No need to worry. I go up the steps to the second floor of apartments and round the corner. They aren’t in front of the door, so Miss Kagiyama must have let her in. No problem. I’m cool as a cucumber. Just dropping in on a neighbor to check on her. Any active cases? Nope, in-between jobs right now. You know how it is. Same old, same old. There’s no naked child in my bedroom.

Two knocks, then I wait. It doesn’t take long for someone to open the door, and it’s not Hina. Instead, I behold a fluffy head of silver hair with two wide dog ears poking out from the sides. Just like Aya Shameimaru, a small red hat with a tassel sits at the very top of her head, designating her as a tengu. Her eyes are the color of rust and glazed over like they’ve seen it all; now they’re just on auto-pilot. An unlit cigarette hangs from her cracked, bare lips. “Ah good,” she mumbles. Her cigarette bobs up and down, but is never at-risk of falling. “You’re here, too.”

I put on my bravest business smile. “Inspector Inubashiri. Always a pleasure. I was expecting Miss Kagiyama, though.”

Her lips barely curl into a dry and weary smile. “I’m sure. Well come in. You were next on my list anyways.”

The Inspector heads back inside and leaves the door hanging open for me. Her wooden geta were responsible for the noise I heard earlier, and I let my loafers join them next to the door. Further inside is Miss Kagiyama, standing in her living room. Her apartment has the same layout as mine, but is completely unfurnished except for a large, white tea table sitting exactly in the center with four matching chairs. Even to a decor minimalist like myself, it’s unsettling. The chairs don’t even have cushions. But at this point, I know it’s just a part of who Miss Kagiyama is.

The Inspector takes a seat for herself at the tea table, adopting a wide stance and letting her right ankle rest on her left knee. She’s dressed in her usual attire: a white shirt with long, detached sleeves, and a shin-length black skirt with a red flame pattern along the hem. Most of the white wolves wear a similar get-up. To the unknowing eye, she would seem like any other white wolf sentry, but the good Inspector here actually commands what few patrols are in the city and its surrounding areas—except for Youkai Mountain, which is considered a separate jurisdiction.

Miss Kagiyama hovers over the table, standing completely still, like a servant in her own home. The bags under her eyes look heavier than normal, and I would wager that she never slept after last night. My heart sinks a bit. It’s painful to see, after how happy she seemed last night. What strange power lies behind that spinning dance of hers, and what compels her to do it? She would evade those questions just like always. We all have our secrets, I suppose. “Good morning Miss Kagiyama,” I greet her.

Her eyes shift from nothing to me, and she gives a very brief bow of acknowledgement. She’s really out of it.

“We’ll leave what we were discussing earlier at that, Hina,” the Inspector begins after I sit down across from her. “Let’s focus on last night in particular.”

In particular? Were they talking about something else before I showed up? I turn and ask, “Are you going to sit down with us, Miss Kagiyama?”

She shakes her head slowly. Come to think of it, I’ve never actually seen her sit in these chairs. The few times I’ve been here, she gets so caught up in playing hostess that she never does so. Now it seems like she doesn’t even have the energy for that.

“We have evidence that places you both at an unsanctioned event,” the Inspector goes on like she’s reading off of something that isn’t in front of her. “Photographic evidence of Hina, if you haven’t seen the news this morning. And everyone I could find tells me you were there as well, PI. Together. Working one of your cases?”

Damn. She’s already tracked some people down. She isn’t the Inspector for nothing. “Just felt like seeing what’s out there, and drinking plenty at the same time,” I answer as nonchalantly as possible. To be clear, I’m not on bad terms with Momiji Inubashiri. If she were as strict as her station calls for, I’d have seen more than my fair share of jail cells by now. But if I let her sniff around too much, she might just dig something up that she doesn’t like. “Miss Kagiyama decided to tag along at her own whim.”

The Inspector gives me a careful look. “Oh, so a date then?”

I force a cocky smile. “If you want to call it that, sure.”

She leans back in the chair, up against the stiff metal, and cracks another dry smile. “Sounds like a match made in Hell, in my opinion. You could do better, Hina.”

Miss Kagiyama jolts out of her stupor. “Ah, yes.”

I don’t think she was paying attention. Or at least, I hope she wasn’t. The Inspector sighs. “Sorry, I know it was a rough night for you.” Then she turns back to me. “Look, I’ll cut right to the chase here. I don’t care that you were there. If I locked up everyone in Gensokyo who ever wandered out to one of those things, I wouldn’t have room in the cells for the real crooks. But I can’t do nothing. Hina’s face is all over this, thanks to those damned crows.”

“One in particular,” I interject.

She nibbles a couple times on her cigarette. “Yeah. One in particular. Look, Hina, I’m going to have to ask that you stay in here a while. Let’s give it a month—maybe less, depending on how the news cycle goes.”

A whole month? That’s ridiculous! This barren apartment isn’t much better than a jail cell. “So you’re putting her under house arrest, Momiji? For what? Starting a fight out in the middle of the forest? That kind of shit happens all the time!”

The Inspector leans forward and looks me steady in the eye. “House arrest, huh. Yeah, it’s house arrest. But I see it as a chance for her to get herself together and stay low. What if she goes out wandering like she does and someone from last night finds her and tries to pick a fight? What if there’s more collateral damage? I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s my ass on the line too, in case you forgot.” Then she looks back at Hina. “Take this as a warning. An opportunity to let this be just a mistake we can all move on from. Forget whatever Hatate has you do around here and rest. You look like you haven’t slept in years. Meditate. Do whatever it is you need to—to uh, clear yourself. Then by next month, everyone will have moved on to the next big thing. But right now, the crows have you in their sights. Exciting news is harder and harder to come by in today’s world. Worst case, they’ll try provoking you into giving them a reason to tell Gensokyo all about you. Don’t give those vultures anything else to work with.”

“I accept this punishment,” Miss Kagiyama speaks up, finally and firmly. “And once more, I am sorry. To both of you.”

It’s hard to protest against the Inspector’s logic and Miss Kagiyama’s solemn acceptance. I just can’t imagine spending a month locked up in this room. “I don’t understand it. What causes all this? Why her?”

Miss Kagiyama lowers her head, falling silent once again.

The Inspector tilts the question around in her head a little before letting out a chuckle. “Well, you’re the ‘detective’ around these parts. I think you’ll have to figure that one out yourself. This is Gensokyo, after all. Even if someone does know, they won’t come right out and tell you. Personal information is worth more than anything. You should be well aware of that, Mister No Name Detective. You ever end up telling anyone your name and backstory around here? Because some nights when I can’t sleep and the gears in my mind are turning, I still wonder exactly who you are and where you came from. I bet Hatate and your other pals feel the same way.”

My throat tightens. It’s been a long road to earn something resembling trust from the Inspector. In the beginning, I had to be awful careful to keep from bumping into her during a case. An unregistered citizen snooping around like I was would have been enough for her to throw me in a cell and forget I ever existed. Now we have a mutual agreement not to cause any trouble for each other, as long as I keep taking care of those complicated little problems that need a more delicate touch than her fellow white wolves can provide. But I still don’t have a name to give out, to her or anyone else. Not in this Gensokyo. Maybe never again. So yeah, I get it. But when I see someone close to me suffering because of that rotten little secret they’re keeping tucked away inside, I start to get interested in peeling apart those layers. Maybe I’m just a hypocrite.

The Inspector gets up and takes a few steps toward the door, pausing at the divide between the living room and the entrance hall. “Well, that’s all I have to say,” she announces, without looking back. “How about a smoke outside before I take off, PI? If you have the time, I mean. It’s been a while.”

I look to Miss Kagiyama. Her darkened green eyes are stuck to the floor. She’s back to being quiet and gloomy. I can’t tell if she’d rather I stay or go. Even if she does want to be alone, I have to ask her about the girl downstairs at the very least. But there’s no doing that while the Inspector’s still around.

[ ] Accept the Inspector’s offer, then come back in right after to ask Miss Kagiyama about the girl downstairs.
[ ] Reject the Inspector’s offer and attempt to console Miss Kagiyama.

[ X ] Accept the Inspector’s offer, then come back in right after to ask Miss Kagiyama about the girl downstairs.

I don’t think there’s much I can do here. Whatever Miss Kagiyama is dealing with must be very personal, so I’ll give her a bit of time to process all this. In the meantime, the Inspector obviously has something on her mind. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s probably for the best I find out about it now and straight from the wolf’s mouth, rather than being surprised in the future. “Miss Kagiyama, I’ll have a smoke with the Inspector outside. If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be back to check on you shortly. Would that be alright?”

She nods, but doesn’t move otherwise. I get the feeling that I’ll come back in after smoking and she’ll be in the exact same spot. As for the Inspector, as soon as she heard me tell Miss Kagiyama I was smoking, she put her geta back on and went right out the door. Either she’s really excited to tell me something, or nicotine addiction is that much of a bitch—no pun intended. I follow her out after slipping my own shoes back on.

Outside, the Inspector has already lit the cigarette between her lips and is sucking from it with her eyes shut. After a long, long inhale, she opens her mouth and releases a torrent of gray smoke away from the apartments and out into the air. While I watch the smoke rise, disperse, and eventually become indistinguishable from the overcast sky, the Inspector has already pulled another cigarette out of the pack. She offers it to me. “Go on. I’ll give you a light.”

I take the cigarette and stick it in my mouth, leaning forward a bit so she can ignite the end with a quick flick of her silver lighter. My intake is not nearly as long as the Inspector’s, owing to my relative lack of experience. Comparing the amount of cigarettes I’ve smoked to the booze I’ve drank is like comparing a rock in my shoe to Youkai Mountain. But I can at least put on a good enough show for the Inspector. I exhale some smoke in the same direction she did and take in the harsh, yet somehow nostalgic smell of tobacco. We both lean on the metal railing and watch our puffs of smoke mingle in the air together. There’s something sensual about it. Maybe. Or maybe I went through a lot last night and something inside my human brain has finally realized just how long it’s been since I’ve been sensual with someone.

“I envy Hatate sometimes,” she says, after a moment of silence. “Being out here. Away from it all.”

Well, there’s nothing sensual about that. “Are you okay?” I ask her. “Seriously. You’re talking about being jealous of Hatate, Gensokyo’s premier morose shut-in. That should be enough to put you in Eientei’s psych ward for a few days.”

She laughs, then ashes her cigarette over the rail. “It might sound crazy now. Look, I want to tell you something. Everyone will be hearing about it soon enough, anyways. And having you be on alert in the meantime isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had. It’s a difficult situation, so what’s the harm in having some more eyes and ears on my side?”

Sounds like she’s still convincing herself. I could open my mouth here and give her the final push, but it might sound weird coming from me and cause her to reconsider. So I let her breathe in some more nicotine and wait for her to finish rationalizing.

“A lake appeared on Youkai Mountain,” she blurts out suddenly, any traces of laughter gone from her face.

I cock an eyebrow at her and lose interest in my burning cigarette. “A lake? You mean from underground, like a spring or something?”

She shakes her head. “No, a lake. A big lake. It just appeared on the summit one morning a couple weeks ago. Out of thin air. Sound familiar?”

Yeah, that’s familiar alright. It sounds just like the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Something else has breached the barrier and entered Gensokyo. Everyone knows that the Great Hakurei Barrier is the staunch divider between our land of Gensokyo and the rest of the world. But what they don't know is that it actually has plenty of holes. After the Scarlet Devil Mansion broke into Gensokyo, the tengu managed to find the last remaining Hakurei shrine maiden and coerced her into maintaining the barrier again. From what I hear, she’s just a kid and a complete novice—with no teacher. “But that’s a building, or an estate, whatever you wanna call it. That vampire was the one who brought the mansion over, but who in the world could bring an entire lake into Gensokyo? Is the barrier getting worse?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. But it’s just something to be aware of. We handled that vampire with brute force. That might not be an option this time. If you come across any outsiders, I don’t care what Hatate thinks. Hand them over to us. You know just as well as I do how dangerous Gensokyo can be for someone who isn’t prepared. And they could end up being the ones who are dangerous to us. This is no time for petty in-fighting.”

Hatate would probably have some kind of conniption if she heard her anti-establishment efforts referred to as petty infighting, but I get what the Inspector means. She’s just putting me in a really awkward position between her and my employer. Unfortunately, I’m used to it. This will be my biggest business smile in recent memory. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her stern, red eyes pierce through the gray haze forming around us. Then she exhales some smoke I didn’t even realize she was holding in and turns away. “Yeah, alright.”

She reminds me near-perfectly of my mother telling me not to play in the forest when I was a child, even though she knew full well it would happen anyways. But it was just something for her to plant in the back of my mind so that when I did go into the forest, her voice would be there to impart the slightest bit of caution where there might otherwise be none. She would have called it guidance, or a warning in good faith. I don’t know if Momiji Inubashiri has any of that jaded maternal instinct within her, but in the end, she’s a high-ranking white wolf tengu who’s obedient to her masters. I can only trust her to do right for right’s sake as it relates to the tengu and the humans of Gensokyo that they appointed themselves guardians of. I could have been one of those humans, if I wanted to. But those times are long gone. I’m the “detective that works for youkai.” It’s as much a part of me as being a crow tengu is to Hatate, or being a white wolf tengu is to the Inspector. Between her and me, there can only be a respectful tolerance insofar as we’re useful to each other.

I snuff my neglected cigarette out on the rail, aim the butt at the small waste can right next to me, and flick it into its final resting place—where it will lie with many of its fallen brethren. Miss Kagiyama found some containers and strategically distributed them at key areas around the apartments because the Inspector isn’t the only one who will smoke. Hatate and Q both frequently smoke cigarettes, though not nearly to the extent as the good Inspector. In fact, I’ve never witnessed Q smoking. It was Hatate, of course, who ratted her out. Q made a big deal out of it back then, but I don’t really care who smokes what and who doesn’t. It’s just a shame that the smell likes to linger on whatever it can.

“I’ll take my leave then,” the Inspector announces abruptly, walking behind me to the cigarette mass grave and dropping hers inside personally. “Take care of Hina for us. And I know I’ll never get her out of that apartment, but tell that employer of yours to at least pick up the phone sometimes!”

I wave her off as she floats from the upper level of the apartments into the sky and then accelerates, returning to the city. Nowadays, it’s rare to see a youkai in the sky that isn’t a tengu. Most of them are too weak for it to be an efficient mode of transportation. The few that can handle it would rather not stick out. I understand that, but I also envy them. It looks like a lot of fun.

After lingering outside a few minutes to make sure the Inspector won’t be coming back, I return to Miss Kagiyama. Surprisingly, she’s no longer standing still in her living room. A mechanical punching noise bounces off the empty walls of the apartment, originating from the bedroom in the back. It’s a familiar enough sound: a sewing machine. “Miss Kagiyama?” I call out.

No response. The machine keeps going. She might not be able to hear me. After taking my shoes off again, I walk back to her bedroom and knock on the door. “Miss Kagiyama?”

The machine immediately stops. “Oh, PI! Come in!”

Well, she certainly sounds more lively. I slide open the door and behold Miss Kagiyama’s bedroom. A plain white futon is the only thing that might suggest someone lives here, shoved into the corner and only adorned with a thin, white sheet. Next to the futon, on the floor, is an old rotary phone made from black plastic. Sitting at a sewing machine in the other corner, Miss Kagiyama is in the middle of inspecting some garments. There are also piles of various clothing stacked up around her. “What are you up to, Miss Kagiyama?”

She stops and turns to me. The bags under her eyes still look heavy, but at least she’s smiling. “Thank you for coming back to check on me! I am currently in the throes of some repairs. You see, I wanted to prepare some clothing for the little one downstairs, since what she was wearing is unusable. She insisted I throw her clothes out, but I would like to try my hand at repairing them.” Her smile widens an inch. “That is, if my skills are up to the task.”

Seems like getting back to work has improved her spirits. Maybe she just needs a project to distract herself from whatever last night was until it simmers down. I know that feeling well enough; I’ve lingered in it for years now. More importantly, she came right out and mentioned the little girl downstairs. So she must have had something to do with it. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. Who is that girl in my bed?”

She sets the clothes she was looking at on top of one of the stacks right next to her. Then she bends down, scoops up that very same pile of clothing, and offers it all to me. “Did you not speak with her?”

I hesitate for one second, but accept it—not sure yet if she’s actually giving these to me, or I’m merely holding them while she does something else. “No, she’s still sleeping.”

Miss Kagiyama makes a pondering sort of noise, but her smile doesn’t change. “Mmm. She insisted on staying with you. I could not object. I thought that it would be acceptable, since it would suit your interests.”

I grimace. “Don’t tell me Hatate showed you that ridiculous fetish list.”

However, Miss Kagiyama responds with a tilted head and pleasant confusion. “Fetish list? Are you dabbling in hexes?” Then her smile lowers and her gaze hardens. “I would advise against such things.”

Of course that would be her reaction. “No, just—look, what happened after we got separated? Where did that girl even come from? There’s some things I don’t remember.”

Miss Kagiyama stares at me a moment, then recognizes my circumstances. “Ahh. I am sorry, I should have known you would have difficulties recollecting, given your condition at the time. When my senses returned, I rushed to your side immediately and found the girl caring for you. She told me that she was accosted by a monster, and you were the one who saved her by shooting it with that weapon of yours. She said the monster fled after you wounded it. So, I carried your unconscious body back here. And she followed, asking questions about you.”

There was a girl in the mouth of that monster, but I don’t remember what she looked like. I’ll have to assume it was the same girl sleeping downstairs for now. “And? What all did you tell her?”

Miss Kagiyama thinks. “She asked me who you are, and I told her that you were PI. She again asked for your name, and I told her that you were PI. She asked me what you are, and I told her that you were a PI. After that, she asked no further questions.”

That was about as well as that conversation could have gone. I can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Well good work, Miss Kagiyama. And thank you for carrying me back. But it doesn’t explain why I woke up next to her and we were both naked.”

She raises her hand to her mouth, and her eyes widen slightly. “Naked? Oh dear, that is a bit strange. After I returned your gun, the little one said she would take good care of you, since I wanted to begin washing your clothes. Perhaps she does not clothe herself in bed, so she did not feel the need to dress you in pajamas.”

That’s a relief, sort of. It’s a bit troubling that Miss Kagiyama entrusted me to a strange child, but I never know what to expect from her. It’s my fault I ended up in that situation, anyways. “So you do have my clothes? Thanks, Miss Kagiyama. I was worried they got ripped to shreds or something.”

Her smile brightens. “They are still drying, but yes, I am happy to report that they sustained no damage beyond accumulating varying amounts of dirt, sweat, and vomit.”

Vomit. That’s right. I do remember having a pretty rough time with that. “You really don’t have to clean up after my mess, Miss Kagiyama. It’s my actions and my consequences, after all.”

Her smile turns more empty than pleasant, and she doesn’t miss a beat in responding. “Is that what you think? That you are in control? You have been burdened with an enormous curse—a weight nobody else can bear for you. I merely do what I can to keep you from collapsing underneath it.”

I freeze up inside. Sometimes she says things like this, and I wonder exactly what she sees with those powers of hers—those powers that nobody wants to explain to me. If she does know everything I went through, then I wonder how she would judge me. But I’ve learned a little something from Miss Kagiyama herself, and that’s to just firmly ignore the things I’d rather not talk about with my own empty smile. I notice that the clothes I’m holding are all on the smaller side, so let’s move on to that. “Were you preparing these clothes for the girl?”

Perhaps she knows exactly what I’m doing, or perhaps she doesn’t. She smiles all the same. “Yes. Good girls should have plenty of clothes, after all.”

Something in my heart hurts when I hear that, but I pay it no mind. “I appreciate it, Miss Kagiyama. I wasn’t looking forward to sending a naked kid back out into the street.”

She ponders something. “I see. But I do wonder if she will take kindly to that. She was incredibly insistent on remaining by your side, specifically.” Then something comes to her. “Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Though it was not a question, after I placed your weapon next to you, she expressed her surprise that guns were used in Gensokyo. I replied they were not, and that I had never heard of such a thing until I met you.”

My heart skips a beat. “That’s exactly how she said it? She called it a gun before you mentioned anything about it?”’

“Yes, she referred to it as a ‘gun’ before I spoke of any such thing to her.”

Nobody in this Gensokyo should have any casual knowledge about guns. Even Rinnosuke, the shopkeep who sells me ammunition that’s slipped through the barrier, thinks the bullets are just a special kind of danmaku I can use. Very rarely, he’ll find pieces of some old guns that nobody knows what to do with. He can tell that it’s a weapon but has no idea how it works, let alone restoring it. That’s probably for the best.

The girl is likely from the outside world. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a living outsider, which is an extremely rare occurrence in Gensokyo, ends up in my bed not long after a mysterious lake breaks through the barrier on top of Youkai Mountain. The two have to be related somehow. But how did she end up all the way down here if she came in with that lake?

“That’s very important,” I tell Miss Kagiyama. “Thanks for mentioning it. But in the future, please hold on to my gun if it ever comes down to that. If the girl thought it was worth something, she might have taken it and run.”

Before I left my apartment this morning, I made sure to hide it in one of the three hiding places I have throughout my apartment. My gun is important enough to warrant that much. However, it doesn’t seem to bother Miss Kagiyama at all. “She wouldn’t have,” she responds firmly. “She also suffers under a curse. As if you were both cut from the same cloth.”

If I had the habit of holding an unlit cigarette in my mouth like the good Inspector, mine would be on the floor. Because when Miss Kagiyama says that, certain words come to mind. Words that I wish I could forget.

“I shall live on in the next Gensokyo, buried in the fear I’ve struck into their hearts. And when you call for me the same way I called for you, I will be there, all around you, and reborn.”

Shut up. Those were nothing but the words of a madwoman. Just a madwoman, dead and gone. Last night had nothing to do with that.

I force a smile at Miss Kagiyama. “I see. Well, I have a lot I need to ask her. Like I said earlier, don’t be afraid to find me if you need anything. If I’m not in my apartment, call my phone. Any time.”

She frowns and looks me dead in the eyes. “PI, are you alright? Are you still sick?”

I should be the one asking her that. Is my business smile so weak as to invite such pity? I put a bit more energy into it before I reply. “Miss Kagiyama, you worry so much about me that I’d be worried for my soul if I didn’t reciprocate sometimes. Leave the girl to me and rest. Last night was rough, but we’ll recover. We always do.”

She wavers, holding something back. Then, she gives me a strained smile. “Alright. But if you would like me to reach you on your phone, you should probably retrieve it from the drawer in my kitchen.”

Oh, right. That would explain where my phone went. “So you left my gun, but held on to my phone?”

Miss Kagiyama’s eyes widen. Then, she smiles like normal. “Yes,” she declares firmly. “That is what I did.”

Can’t argue with that, I guess.

###

I return to my apartment, taking some time to balance the stack of clothes in my hands as I carefully descend the steps from the upper floor. My phone wasn’t cracked, but even if it was, it wouldn’t have been a big deal for Q to fix it. As for Miss Kagiyama and me, there’s nothing else to be said. I hope she can rest well. The Inspector was right: she looked like she hadn’t slept, and she probably didn’t. I wonder how she came up with these clothes? There’s no way she could have sewn this much, even if she spent all night on it. As I approach the front door, I press my face against the stack and take a good whiff—not to smell children’s clothes for the sake of it, but to discern whether or not she plucked these out of the garbage during one of her walks. Even if she had, they smell like our usual detergent, so she must have done a good enough job of recycling them. I could wonder why she keeps a stock of children’s clothing around in the first place, but I really shouldn’t.

Inside, nothing has changed. The television is still on, playing commercials at a barely-audible volume. My bedroom door is ajar, how I left it. Good. If I came back and the kid had turned the place upside-down, I might have lost it—however much of “it” I have in the first place. I walk to the bedroom with the stack of clothes still in hand, and flick the door open with my foot. The girl is still sleeping in the cocoon. Also good. I set the clothes down at the end of the bed and walk closer. Only her golden-blonde hair peeks out of the end, like an uncut sushi roll.

Before I can think of how to go about doing this, something at my feet catches my eye. On the floor, underneath my bed frame, is a brown hat that must belong to her. It’s a long shot, but maybe her name is on it somewhere. I bend down and pull out the hat, but nearly drop it when I see the two big eyes on top of it staring back at me. Creepy. I tilt the straw hat around in my hands, just to make sure the eyes don’t move. They don’t, thankfully. It’s Gensokyo, so I can never be too sure. There doesn’t seem to be a name on it, but what I can tell is that the hat feels old and flimsy, like the fibers are just barely hanging on to each other. I don’t even want to touch the eyes, because they might pop right off. If this is some heirloom of hers, I’d rather not damage it. Who knows what calamity might ensue. Minoriko Aki’s hat is starting to seem more sane by comparison.

“CHA LA~ HEAD CHA LA~”

Suddenly my phone rings, blaring out that annoying cartoon jingle they set up as my ringtone. My heart skips a beat. Somehow the vibration feature must have been turned off while Miss Kagiyama had it. I quickly set the hat down beside the girl on the bed and hustle back into the living room. It’s Hatate. Of course.

“So what happened?” Hatate’s voice comes through as soon as I pick up the call.

“I thought you would’ve heard. Don’t you have Miss Kagiyama’s room tapped?”

“Pfft, yeah I’ve tried. Nothing electronic lasts very long in that room. Whatever. Don’t worry about that. What did Momiji say?”

“The crows are interested in Miss Kagiyama after last night, so Momiji has her on house arrest now. For her own good, apparently.”

“For her own good? Fuck that. Fuck Momiji. She never changes. She’d tell you to lay low and take it easy if you were on fire in a straw hut.”

“You should tell her that, instead of hiding under your bed whenever she comes around. Aren’t you two friends, or at least used to be?”

“I do NOT hide under my bed, thank you very fucking much! Shut up about all that and listen. I’ve been thinking.”

Never a good sign.

“So Hina just so happens to have a little incident, and the crows are all ready to do everything but blast her name and address all over the news. Now she’s being told to stay put, with the media acting like they’ve got a guillotine hanging over her head. This has to be a set up! Someone doesn’t want Hina running around. Was there anyone weird hanging around that place last night?”

As far as her conspiracy theories go, this is maybe somewhat plausible, assuming that the crows have something against Miss Kagiyama. I just don’t understand what it could be. She’s harmless. “It was a gathering of humans and youkai in the middle of the night, Hatate. Everyone was a little weird.”

“Just think for a second, smartass.”

There was someone I talked to right before everything got out of control. In fact, she seemed to know Miss Kagiyama somehow. I don’t want to feed Hatate’s theory, but it is what it is. “There was someone who came up to me and asked about Shizuha Aki right before it happened. She said she heard about me asking around from her friend, but I didn’t see her with anyone.”

“Of course! Let me guess: brown hat, brown suit, brown hair? High-pitched voice?”

Shit. When Hatate is right about something, it’s bad. “Yeah.”

“FUCKING AYA SHAMEIMARU!” she roars through the phone and the walls. If my phone going off didn’t wake the girl up, that certainly will. “She’s still going around in that shitty disguise?!”

That woman last night did seem awfully shifty. I never would have expected it to be Aya Shameimaru of all people, but it would explain how she took those photos. What does Aya Shameimaru have to gain from hassling Miss Kagiyama? If it’s because of whatever’s between her and Hatate, this would be the first time she’s actually done anything about it. Up until now, she’s just been a talking head on the news that Hatate would scream at one-sidedly. “Hold on, Hatate. If this was some setup by Aya Shameimaru, then why would she be hanging around the forest, waiting to give me a lukewarm tip about Shizuha Aki? And if her master plan was to mess with Miss Kagiyama, then how would she have even known that Miss Kagiyama would decide to accompany me that night, or at all? That’s a lot of coincidences.”

“I don’t know, okay? But I do know that this reeks! We have Hina on house arrest, the tengu acting shady, and a mysterious girl in your bedroom.”

Oh, right. There’s that other thing. “Also, Momiji said a lake appeared at the top of Youkai Mountain.”

“WHAAAT?!” her voice rocks my apartment and my eardrums once again. If that didn’t wake up the girl, she’s deaf. “A fucking LAKE? Ohhhh shit. Shit shit shit. Another outsider incident? Oh this will be huge. Huge, PI!”

“Yeah, she said the lake was pretty big,” I respond, being willfully ignorant of whatever point she’s trying to make.

“Not the size of it, you idiot! A lake doesn’t just slip through the barrier, someone outside caused it! Think of the possibilities! A power imbalance! Some real fucking resistance against the tengu! This is the kind of thing we’ve been waiting for!”

She may be getting worked up, but I don’t really have that kind of energy—especially since it just means more work for me. “Yeah, and I’ve heard all of this already. Remember the Scarlet Devil Mansion?”

“Bah, that vampire was a disappointment. She gets smacked down once and decides she’s going to lay there and take it up the ass until she withers away. Forget her! Or wait—maybe she’ll get inspired by these newcomers! Think about it, an alliance! Kakashi Spirit News, the Scarlet Devil Mansion, and then whoever these new lake people are!”

I would love for Hatate to tell the lady vampire of the Scarlet Devil Mansion that she’s been a disappointment who takes it up the ass. It would certainly bode well for this newly-formed alliance that could only exist inside her own demented head. “Let’s just focus on the now, alright? I need to figure out what the deal is with this kid, and then go check the clinic to see if they can tell me anything about Shizuha Aki.”

“You’re right, maybe it’s all connected. Keep an eye on that kid, PI. Remember, there’s no such thing as coincidences, only the truth!”

She hangs up, leaving me shaking my head. No such thing as coincidences, yeah right. After the Scarlet Devil Mansion appeared, she had me on all kinds of wild goose chases. She even made me investigate the fairy maids that the mansion hired, thinking they were double agents sent by the tengu to sabotage them from within. No, they were just regular fairies who were bored with the city and wanted to wear pretty uniforms. But don’t worry, I only learned that after a lot of bruises and heartache chasing after their former friends in the city. I had to shave my head to get all of that glue out, and at my age, I don’t know how many more times I’ll be able to grow back a full head of hair. Frankly, I’m glad there are less fairies in the city now. Too bad I pissed off the ones that didn’t leave, so I still have to keep both eyes peeled whenever I take a shortcut through an alleyway.

“Kinda weird that you talk over the phone when she’s right next-door, isn’t it?”

I whip around in the direction of my bedroom and there’s the girl, standing in the middle of the doorframe. She’s still naked, except for that ridiculous bug-eyed hat I was looking at. So I lock into her eyes, which seem to blue—no, light green? Maybe gray. “You grabbed your hat but missed the big pile of clothes on the bed? That’s weirder, in my opinion.”

She giggles, something light and fluffy and purposeful. “Oh! Those were for me? Well sure, maybe I did see those. But I oughta show some proper gratitude to you for savin’ my life, right? Maybe I should dogeza?”

This one is trouble. “No no, none of that. I don’t need a naked dogeza from a kid, ever. If you really want to show your gratitude, go put on some of those clothes.”

She turns around but still lingers in the doorway, looking back at me with her hips stuck out like a bad advertisement in a dirty magazine. It wouldn’t be the worst view, if I was the kind of person to look at such a thing. I think I’ve settled on her eyes being gray. “I gotcha, I gotcha,” she says with a shit-eating grin. “If I don’t cover up, you’ll be too distracted! Heh heh. I’ll see what I can find then!”

The girl disappears into my bedroom, and I can hear the rustling of fabric as she begins picking apart the stack. She doesn’t shut the door, though. Not exactly modest of her. I may have thought she was cute when I first saw her, but she’s acting more like an imp than an angel. Does she not realize the predicament she’s in, or does she simply not care?

“Hey!” she calls from my bedroom. “So um, are you feeling better?”

That’s surprisingly considerate of her. “Yeah. Not that I feel great, but at least I’m not dead.”

“Heh heh. I like that attitude. Seriously though, I’m glad. You kept muttering about a princess while you were out. I thought maybe that hit you took knocked you silly.”

My stomach sinks. I was talking in my sleep? About her? I feel like gagging. How long have I been doing that? I never really share a bed with anyone, so I would have no idea. Should I ask Q if I can borrow a voice recorder and leave it on while I sleep? What would I even have said? How much does this girl know now? “That’s—that’s something. A princess? Do you remember exactly what I said?”

“It wasn’t much. Just the word ‘princess’ over and over again. I uh, held your hand for a while and it seemed to help. Like it was a nightmare or something.”

Heat rises into my face when I imagine it. Me, being consoled in my sleep by some kid? With both of us naked, I might add. I wish there was any room for doubt, but there’s no way she made that up. It’s too specific. “Uh, thank you. I don’t really know what else to say to that.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just returning the favor.” Then, she strides back into the doorway with a light blue tank top that sags just a little too much around her small bust, and dark blue pants that are a couple inches too short of her ankles. Her smile is beaming white as she stands wide and proud, with her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

It’s not the tidiest look in the world, but it’s better than walking around with one of my shirts hanging off her. There was a decent amount of color variety in that stack, so I’m going to guess that she likes the color blue. “Looks alright. It’s cold outside, so you can also borrow one of my spare jackets if you need to go out.”

She deflates and comes over to sit right next to me on the couch, despite there being plenty of room. Even though it’s a sofa, she still sits cross-legged. “Just alright, huh? Well, I tried my best with what I had.” Then she smacks both hands down on her thighs, creating a muffled clap. “Okay then! Let’s start from scratch. What’s your name?”

I should really be the one taking the lead here, but I’ll let her have it for now. She might be more willing to talk that way. “I go by PI.”

“Oh! That lady was right. I thought she was just speaking gibberish. She seemed a little slow in the head, maybe.”

Slow in the head? That’s brutal, but I can’t say I don’t understand where she’s coming from. “Her name is Miss Kagiyama, and don’t say that. She’s a good person, just a bit out there.”

The girl loses some of her luster as she processes what I said. “Mmm. Well, okay. Are those your initials, then? What do they mean?”

“It’s short for Private Investigator, or private eye. I’m a detective-for-hire.”

Now she’s giving me a strained look like I’m the one who’s slow in the head. “Um, okay, but what’s your name? Like what your parents gave you?”

Of course, I do have a real name—two of them, even. I’m just paranoid about using it again. Even if there doesn’t seem to be any trace of my former identity left, I don’t want to risk it. “I know what you meant. PI is the only name anybody here knows me by, so it’s real enough. Just call me that. What about you?”

She thinks to herself, and grins. “Then just call me Mori. It’s the only name anybody here will know me by, so it’s real enough, right?”

Yeah, this girl will be trouble alright. But she did give me a valuable piece of information that more or less confirms what I suspected. “Very funny. But nobody knows you here, is what you’re saying? Then you must have come from the outside world. Probably with that lake that appeared on the mountain recently.”

Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Did you say a lake? The whole lake is here?”

This lake must really be something. “That’s what I’ve been told, yeah.”

She takes a deep breath. “Whew. I shouldn’t underestimate a detective when it comes to information, huh? Then it’s no use holding back. Yeah, I’m from the outside world, if that’s what you want to call it. I woke up in the city a couple of days ago. But before that, I lived in a lake shrine with my—my family. Now I know they ended up here too, probably.”

A shrine? That’s bad news. Hatate’s delusions could come true, for all I know. “You lived in a shrine? Are you a shrine maiden?”

She grins, amused by the thought of it. “Nah, nothin’ fancy like that. I didn’t really do anything, it was just where I lived.”

There aren’t any active shrines here in Gensokyo, so all I know is just hearsay about how things used to be. And shrines could be completely different in the outside world. I won’t worry about the details for now. “So you just woke up here? That’s it? What have you been doing for two days? Living on the streets?”

“Yep! Had no idea what was going on. Thought maybe I, um, died or something. I watched some news on the television in the shop window and I put two-and-two together. This is Gensokyo, the legendary fantasyland. Only it’s not much of a fantasyland anymore, huh? I thought it would be, I dunno, more traditional? More rural, at least? I didn’t have any money, and nobody would help me. I got jumped by some fairies my first night when I tried sleeping in an alley. That’s why I was out in the forest last night. Thought I might as well try my luck surviving out there.” She glances down. “Or maybe I just stopped caring if it was dangerous.”

A strange blonde girl asking for handouts? They probably thought she was a youkai looking to scam them, or worse. It’s ironic that an outsider would have to turn to a forest filled with hungry youkai for survival, instead of the human city. Ironic, and sad. “That’s when the snake attacked you?”

She nods darkly. “Didn’t even know what hit me until it was over.” Then she brightens up quick. “Then you came along! I was so surprised to hear gunshots. And you looked like a gumshoe right out of a manga. I figured that if anyone can help me, it’s you.”

That would explain why she was so insistent on staying with me. “Let me guess: you want me to bring you back to your family? Maybe even find you a way home and get revenge on that snake youkai while we’re at it?”

She blinks at me a couple time, then puts on a smile. “Nah, you’d think so, but I’m okay with all of this. You work for some kind of agency, right? Is that Miss Kagiyama lady your partner?”

I’m not sure I like where this is going. “She helps out around here. Last night was an exception. And she won’t be doing that again anytime soon. When it comes to being out there in the field, I usually work alone.”

She sighs in relief. Looks like that’s the answer she wanted. “Great! Actually, I was going to ask for a job. How about we partner up?”

I can’t help but laugh. She’s awfully bold, I’ll give her that. “You think you can show up and be my partner, just like that? We don’t even know each other.”

That doesn’t seem to discourage that grin of hers. “Yeah, but what better way to get closer than working together? I thought detectives normally operated in pairs, anyways. Don’t you need someone to watch your back? Not the way you were watching mine earlier, mind you.”

“I wasn’t staring, and you were presenting it anyways.” Damn it. That’s not the point. “Look, I’ve got my reasons. I don’t need a partner, especially not some outsider kid fresh off the streets.”

“Come on, you won’t even have to pay me. Just staying here and getting some food every now and then would be plenty!”

Shit, that brings up something else. Where is she going to stay? Hatate is no good, and I don’t see how she would stay with Miss Kagiyama either. “You can stay here for a few days, but I was going to ask Miss Kagiyama to prepare one of the empty rooms for you to sleep in once she feels better.”

She thinks about it, but only performatively. “Mmm, nope. Rejected. I want to stay with you! Do you really think I want to be in some room alone while you go off on adventures?”

“Do you really think I want to work with a kid when it could be dangerous to both of us?”

Her smile narrows. “Do you even have a sense of danger, if you wander out into the middle of the woods drunk off your ass to fire some potshots at a giant snake? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did it. That’s kinda the whole point here. Let me help you. You said on the phone you were going to the clinic to follow up on a lead or something, right? Give me a chance. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll back off and you’ll never hear about it again. It’s a promise.”

My headache is getting worse. I almost want to tell her sure, fine, tag along. Most of the work is just walking around, anyways. Once she sees that, she’ll be okay with staying behind. And it’s not like I’m strictly against having company out there. But I never know what’s going to happen. A simple walk to the clinic to ask some questions could get me tangled up in who-knows-what. I don’t want to put her in harm’s way.

But wait a minute. Hatate’s the one who told me to keep an eye on the girl. Maybe I should just ask her what she wants me to do. That way if the kid wants to gripe about it, she can gripe about it to her. And if this “Mori” is so important to whatever scheme Hatate’s cooking up, then it should be her call. I just don’t like relying on Hatate to make any kind of decision, because I never know what she’ll come up with or how far she’ll want to push it.

[ ] Go along with it. Might as well be positive.
[ ] This isn’t a good time for games.
[ ] Ask Hatate, let’s make this her problem.