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…Ah, you’re here. Good to see you all.
How have you all been? Holding yourselves together, I hope?
…You’ve certainly been through a lot. You and me both.
And of course, those children. You’ve all been doing so well, guiding them.
Especially the young half-ghost, and the sister a-whorled up in her wake. I admit, I found your actions in regards to her nature… beyond questionable, but I can scarcely imagine a better result to that harrowing day. Good work to you all.
And the young bookkeeper… I wonder if we could have done that differently? Could we have laid low for just a little longer? …Well, no matter. The point is, she’s safe, and that’s more important.
…I’d like to offer you something. A little reward for all your hard work.
Tell me… do you wonder about the choices not taken? The roads not traveled? The paths not walked?
The Reimus, Youmus, Akyuus, Kosuzus, and Marisas that could have been?
…I often wonder as well. I suppose it’s human nature, isn’t it?
I’d like to tell you all a few stories. Not the actual fates we’re watching play out - cute little speculative stories. Glimpses of what could have been.
In so doing, I hope you all gain a better sense of those kids. Sometimes you can’t see the full picture only looking at one side, after all.
As thanks for your recent performance… is there any specific scenario you’d all like to see? I have some scenarios in mind, of course - particular confluences that catch my eye, or ones that I find particularly… resonant. But I’m sure you all have your preferences, as well.
I’ll give you a little taste to start with, of one of the more drastic scenario changes. But where to begin…
Ah yes. Perhaps this one will be to your liking?
I was going to say that things are looking up for Kokoro, but I then realized that with Youmu here, there's likely nothing to save Koishi from her canon fate unless Spooder Reimu gets deeply involved with Chireiden, which means that Hopeless Masquerade may still be on the table in some form.
That said, Kokoro actually has a decent support network this time around to help her through her issues, so things might not spiral as far out of control as last time.
>>3262
Is it strange that when I look at the top left drawing of Yuuma, my immediate thoughts are that she is plotting some manner of mischief involving mayonnaise?
From the looks of it, this happened after the events of y/y so I'm guessing Youmu prevented Koishi from closing her third eye?
It's been a bit since the vote, but I read through and apparently you still take ideas...
Well, I remember suggesting the Youmu/Reimu meeting...but I had an Idea stuck in my head since my last full reread of K/K.
And it was the simplest realization, that if things had gone slightly different...
In a world where Saki was the boss of R/R instead of Yuuma... a certain evil Tube Fox takes her "daughter" to an injured, but still strong, Matriach known for her power. She's on a decline, but the position of being the "Unbeatable Matriarch's" right-hand fox? Too good to pass up.
This was the second-largest mistake in Tsukasa's life, which is quite impressive given all of the others.
For the entire Alliance could tell that little Kosuzu wasn't her mother's daughter, just like the rest of the animal gangs... But Yuuma?
Yumma could smell Ran, and she knew Ran. Ran would never give up her daughter, under any circumstances.
This filth stole Ran's kit! Time to make an example...but... How do you take care of a kitsune kit...?!
All the while, Yukari and Chen feel like they're miasing something... and Reimu's instincts are twitching...
Or, in Light Novel terms: "My life as a Tubefox was a Lie!? Adopted by a Yakuza Taotie!"
Entries for the latest exhibition, >>/gensokyo/18161, go in this thread.
Shinmyomaru Sukuna sat in a little room in a little wing of a little castle. Arms folded, she stared at the little old man who was stood at the front of the throne room.
“Is what you say true?” She demanded sharply.
The shrunken old geezer scratched at his beard. “It’s true. The giants have gotten a little princess of their own. She’s even got purple hair like yours.”
Shinmyomaru jumped to her feet. “This is unacceptable! I must go an defend my honour from this… this… Pretender!”
Her head turned to another man stood in the throne room. In his hands he held a mallet wrapped in cloth.
“Lord Custodian! Lend me the Miracle Mallet so that I may strike this fool down as she so rightly deserves.” She demanded, a hand out for the hammer.
The custodian raised an eyebrow “I cannot let you use the mallet for such a purpose, Lady Sukuna.” He said drily.
With a shake of the head, he walked off, miracle mallet held firmly within his hands. Ignoring Shinmyomaru’s cries for him to come back. Shinmyomaru clenched a fist. She’d show that she wasn’t a child, with or without the Miracle Mallet. They’d see that she truly was the hero the inchlings deserved.
Shimmy shimmied across a great bridge. Behind her lay a great rift covered by a pane of glass. A massive eye loomed behind it, a great beast staring at the princess as though she were just a morsel to be gobbled up. But even greater than that monster was Shinmy’s bravery. With a step back and a running leap, she cleared the gap from one bridge to the next, landing with a deft roll. Shimmy smiled to herself. Then she saw how far in the distance the false princess’ grand palace was. A friend had brought her far on dragonfly back. The rest of the journey was up to her.
The sun was beginning to dip low in the sky by the time she reached the foreign castle. With a mighty throw, she launched her spear into a higher ledge and, with the assistance of the string tied through the eye of her spear’s butt, began to climb. Her muscles burned. She would have much rather been in her bed. But it was just a little further to go.
Eventually, she reached the higher le
The emergency door closed with an iron clang, putting the sickly yellow lamp to sleep. With a blink, the murky reflection of the cabin disappeared. Outside the window, a night eclipsed by storm clouds was revealed.
The underground Hiroshige’s success had no effect on Nagano's railway traditions, and the sweet, fresh, pollenated air (what many came here for) wafted freely through the empty carriage. Land trains, as tourist brochures proved, are no less comfortable and absolutely safe: along all JR lines there have long been sensors that signal if, say, someone accidentally falls onto the tracks.
I honestly tried to sleep again. Outside, long beams of torches swam around, looking for percieved malfunctions; their light, falling on the red reflectors of the mobile barriers, pierced my eyelids and flashed sharp in my brain. Rain brought with it a terrible migraine.
While I wondered where I should put my hat, the lanterns moved on towards the locomotive: dozens, hundreds of lights were now lined up in perfect constellation lines above the hardwoods of the old Shinshuu. Soon. the last treatment room lights will be extinguished, and the "star"-light will drift into the angular glass monolith of the canteen, where anyone can be served a light midnight snack.
The train has stopped, at a cursory glance, a couple dozen kilometres before the sanatorium platform. A few more minutes for the emergency response team to arrive, to set up the fences.... And then, the upper floors of the medical building disappeared from view. I'm betting it's 21:52 at the latest. If I hurry up and walk, I might even have time to grab something apple-flavoured.
The exit was at some elevation and I, used to getting off at city stations, fell, scraping my knee. Nonsense. Much more disconcerting to me was the lack of people, who were jostling near the wheels just moments before: only empty service vehicles in bright coloured emergency service colours stood with their doors open wide. There was a strong smell of alcohol and burning, although inside the train, probably, as always, it was fragrant with the hypoallergenic mountain freshness of the early rainy season. Another kitschy fake,
You saw her, right? Last summer, when we were down by the lake? Just around dawn; pebbly section of the shore; the sky was glowing like a cliff of tourmaline? You were helping me to camouflage the hygrometer? Thank you for that, by the way; it’s still running perfectly; hasn’t been stolen or tampered with; don’t know how you managed it.
Anyhow, she was there. Across the lake. I must have pointed her out to you. Or I must have said something, at least. Or I was in the middle of saying something and then I stopped. I mean, who ever does remember that sort of detail? She had my attention in the sort of way that made me almost incredulous she didn’t have yours as well. That’s how I really remember it.
Well, no, it wasn't ‘at first sight’, if you’re willing to listen for a moment and not tease. It honestly wasn’t like that. I’m not that sort of person; you know full well I’m not. You’ve known me for how many years, and I’m only now bringing up something like this to you? That’s because I really believe, I really believe it’s serious. It’s real, I’m sure of it. But I didn’t know it then, is what I’m trying to say.
No, it was like... it was like looking at a cumulonimbus. Like an isolated cumulonimbus, off in the distance, towering up into the tropopause, where the sky takes on the Prussian dyes of an open sea. Where breathing is as good as drowning. Where turtle-shelled maidens are caught on fairy-tale hooks, and you wouldn’t wonder at seeing the carp itself, dancing triumphant in the Sun; triumphant in its glinting, coral-red brocade. The one that made it all the way.
I didn’t know what to make of it. Isn’t it always the case... Isn’t it always the case, when you find yourself magnetised by someone like that? It’s because you don’t know what to think. You find that the way in which you judge things in your day-to-day life seems suddenly useless and petty, and you can only wonder at what kind of heroic stature you’d yourself have to possess in order to say anything that wasn’t... irrelevant. Less than wrong.
Haven’t you been in awe of someone like that before?
The cherry trees were in full bloom at Hakugyokurou, filling the air with cherry blossoms and the sweet scent of vanilla that filled the halls. The servants fluttered about, right and left, faceless apparitions preparing meals, sorting out rooms, and caring for various tasks. Yuyuko and Suika sat across from each other, sitting on pillows with A banquet spread across the table that separated them: roast duck, boar, beef, and other unidentifiable meat alongside numerous sweets and bottles of Sake. After everything else, a covered wooden container was left centered on the table.
"Thank you for preparing this meal, Youmu."
The half-phantom bowed, "You are welcome, my lady. I live only to serve you."
Suika laughed, "Wow, you're as much of a suck up as ever, ya'know."
"Ah, please don't be mean to poor Youmu, she really did put a lot of effort into this."
"Whatever, it's just nice to hang out like this. The shrine never has enough food."
Yuyuko agreed, "Yes, it's nice that we're able to have such an enjoyable get-together, Suika."
The two of them lapsed into silence as they began eating, taking from every plate while leaving the wooden container untouched. The conversation was light and enjoyable, with jokes about acquaintances, questions about what the other had been doing recently, and laughter.
"You should have seen how Yukari was back when I was causing everybody to party, she was so worried about me but didn't have the heart to say it or to explain to others what was going on, talk about shy."
"Yes, I wonder how our Yukari would be if a certain someone were kinder to her? Perhaps if they invited her to spend some time with their friends."
"Please, it's your shitty encouragement of her, half her problems are caused by that overly shy, attention loving personality. I'll show you what, I'll go right to her house and drag her to the village, that'll do her some good!" Suika shot back.
"Perhaps you should treat her with more kindness than, don't think I don't know those rude things you say ab
Entries for the latest exhibition >>/gensokyo/17808 go in this thread
The rain chattered as it tumbled from the skies above and down onto the roof of the Myouren Temple. It slid to the sides, unhurried and uninterested in anything before it fell to the earth. It ran into the cracks in the roof where it hadn’t been repaired as thoroughly, and it would see that portion of the roof destroyed should she err too long.
Ichirin watched the droplets cascade down. The weather was downbeat. The rain fell, but in spite of the near-poetry she’d just been crafting, the rain fell in lazy and uninspiring ways, like a whole world slumping its shoulders and giving up. Ichirin wasn’t even sure she could blame it. The world felt uninspiring right now. Maybe that was why her captive hadn’t said much.
A Taoist cap, a collection of multicoloured ribbons around her limbs and neck, and, just for good measure, a tight roped currently tied around her wrists, This last addition had been Ichirin’s idea after she’d conferred with her closest friend. Said friend currently swirled around her, hazy and formless, as Ichirin took hold of the rope and yanked with a grunt. The sullen figure slid across the floor silently, but she soon took notice of the downpour she was being sent out into, and some life returned to her at last. “Nay, wench, I say nay! Thou shalt not cast me unto that deluge!” Her speech was a mess usually, but the panic of being tossed out into the rain had forced her hand. She tried to struggle, but with her hands bound tightly, she didn’;t manage much beyond impotently kicking her legs.
“Why not?” Ichirin asked between harsh breaths as she dragged the captive closer to the edge of the staircase at the front of the temple. “A little splash of water might sort out that mess you call a brain.” She paused and let her captive fall to the floor as she stretched her back and wiped the sweat from her brow. “I realise that this is an exercise in futility, but if you tried not burning down the Temple, this might not happen to you.” There was no response from the captive. “Oh, Futo?” Ichirin leaned down. “Are you ignoring me?” There was a certain level of smugness in this, even though she knew nothing she could say would convince the Taoist to ceas
Ichirin wondered how she did it. Mamizou Futatsuiwa never seemed to let things touch her. Always unflappable; Always ready with a smug quip and a laugh. Ever since she’d come to the Temple, Ichirin had wished she could find some of that attitude.
Minamitsu was still talking. “Hey, you want to go and see if there’s any food here?”
Ichirin lurched to her feet. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” she said, drunkenly staggering for a moment before getting her feet back under her. “Temple food is…yeah. Let’s see.”
One could only take intense blandness with a pinch of salt for so long.
Her feet made six steps before her mind connected the fact that she wasn’t walking unassisted. Minamitsu had taken her arm in hers. “You barely ate anything all day and then you drank all that booze, Ichi. You’re probably more sloshed than a sailor on shore leave already.”
Ichirin frowned. “No, I’m not.” the hiccup she failed to suppress undercut her point somewhat.
“Very convincing.” Minamitsu replied dryly. “Hey, is that the snacks table?” She kept a tight hold on Ichirin, though Ichirin didn’t believe it necessary. Why would it be? She hadn’t drank that much. “Ooh, they’ve got fried tofu.”
Minamitsu’s grip suddenly disappeared and Ichirin found the world lurched slightly around her. Okay, perhaps she’d had a little more to drink than she should’ve, and certainly too fast. Did the ship phantom have a point? No, of course not. Ichirin was fine. Minamitsu was the miserable one.
“‘Mitsu, why were you sad?” Ichirin asked, trying to ignore the way the world was swaying slightly. “You’re not sad like that often any—”
In a flash, Minamitsu’s arm was around Ichirin and pulling her across the grounds again, finally depositing her at the veranda. Unprepared for the movement, Ichirin fell backward, thankful that the surface was dry and mostly clean. Her limbs felt heavy.
“Hang on, let me just…” Ichirin felt herself lifted upright, then felt her mouth being pried open. Before she could ask just what was happening, she was released to fall to the veranda again. “Thought so. Tengu liquor. No wonder. Mamizou c
Gah, >>3244 here with a minor note. Because of the character limits I had to shift some things when posting, and I somehow ended up losing a paragraph in one part.
>The goddess gave a great exhalation [...]
“No, no, great goddess, there is truly fault on the part of at least some of the great-tengu. I’m sure a few could have done a little better to make sure their schedules were clearer,” the tube-fox replied, bowing deeply. The razor-sharp smile had renewed itself on her face. She casually named off a few names, casting their otherwise vaunted positions among the great-tengu as relatively unimportant. Though she remained straight-faced listening to the fox, there was a flicker of interest in the goddess’s deep red eyes.
>“Well, I don’t know what political game [...]
Under the shadow of the full moon a masked multitude gathers. They tell tales of Gensokyo, of the masks worn by both people and places. Perhaps they are stories of fact, of the lies everyone tells for the greatest and small of reasons. Perhaps they are simply idle fiction, farce and fancy to get a smile out of all present.
Or perhaps they are stories of when the masks slip. Of what lies beneath the surface. The real Gensokyo, hidden under the facade...
Contest Entries for the 2024 Halloween Contest go here! If you don't know what's going on, or you just want to see the rules, follow this link: >>/gensokyo/17580
Over her two lives with Kyouko, Mystia had always had one ironclad rule - the louder the ex-yamabiko was, the less Mystia had to worry. It was a trait carried over from her mountain echo days, and all she had to do with the now-Tanuki’s volume was adjust her expectations to accommodate the smaller volume range.
Right now, though, Kyouko was dead silent. She just stared at the glowing pagoda powering the grill. Mystia felt a drop of sweat trickle down her neck, as the younger girl quietly sucked in a breath.
“...Um.,” she began, hesitantly. “Mystia… this… this is your heirloom?”
Mystia nodded. “...Y-yeah? Wait, do you recognise it?”
“...Um. Yeah, you could say that.” The tanuki had broken out in a cold sweat. She slowly raised her head, looking Mystia all over. “And… Iunno about your dad, but I- I might know who your mom is.”
The catgirl gulped. “R-really? Y-you can tell it just from that? I didn’t know there was a maneki-neko at Myouren- wait, you don’t mean Mike, do you? She’s only got a couple of years on me, and she’s still living here-”
“Sh-she’s not a maneki-neko - and, uh, I’m really starting to doubt you are, either.” Kyouko took a deep breath, screwing her eyes shut. “Mystia… that’s the Jeweled Pagoda of Bishamonten. The one Lady Shou had.”
The silence hung in the air for a few weighty seconds. Even the bustle of the streets seemed to die down for a moment. Mystia stared at the tanuki, slack-jawed.
Kyouko coughed, awkwardly. “Um, and y’know, you’re pretty tall compared to the other girls here. It makes sense if you’re actually, um, y’know… you know.”
“Shou? Lady Shou?” A few loose cogs in Mystia’s brain began to spin. “Lady Toramaru Shou?”
“Yeah.”
A few more cogs began to click into place. “‘Tora’... as in tiger?”
“...Y-yeah.”
The silence returned for a few seconds more. Mystia’s brain, with agonising sluggishness, finally managed to spit out the answer.
“I’M A TIGER?!”
Kyouko flinche
"Excuse me, does this bus go to Gensokyo?"
> What she got instead was a completely blank look. The sage gave no recognition of the name whatsoever
Just caught up. And I fixated at this bit. Has Yukari forgotten what it was like to be Merry? A bit like how Shirohime remembers her past self, but none of the spells?
Is RenMerry dead?!
> Ran seemed entirely lost for words as Tsukasa continued. “I-It’s been so long, I’ve lost so much… it almost feels like it isn’t even real anymore. I-if you hadn’t shown up, I-I might have had to ask Megumu if any of it was the truth.” The tears kept flowing. “D-do you know what it’s like, Ran? To lose yourself? To feel everything you were slipping away?”
> “I…” The kitsune hesitated before sighing. “Not… personally, no. But I’ve seen someone decline like that before. I’m… sorry you had to go through that, Shirohime.”
Seems like Yukari might have forgotten who she was...
I wonder what happened to Renko.
Author's Note: Couldn't get an image I liked.
The bake-danuki before her took a long drag of her pipe. The smoke fell from her mouth as she chortled, an unnaturally large and thick amount. “Oh…? And what will you do against all of us, I wonder?” From the tobacco smoke leaped a hoard of tanukis and demons.
In response, Ran dashed forward. Her left hand was on the other youkai’s right shoulder. Her right hand held its heart. “You… pathetic… wretch…” she snarled into her ear. “Did you really… think… you had a… chance… of even… intimidating me? Or do you not know my name…?” She pulled the organ out through the cavernous wound and held it high above her head. “This is what your master has earned with her defiance! No creature can hope to stand against Ran, emperor kitsune!” She squeezed the heart and let the blood drip into her mouth. It was warm, thick, and delicious.
“Well? What will it be?” Mamizou asked.
Ran Yakumo blinked. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment; I’ve been in a very similar situation before.”
“Then I suggest you do what you did before and live another day,” the bake-danuki chuckled.
The kitsune sighed. “There are thirty-seven of you. That is just over four times the number of bake-danuki that lived in Gensokyo yesteryear. Census records show that the population of the Human Village continues to hover around one thousand in number. That’s one thousand humans that know enough about tanukis to get rid of them, and they don’t care for thieves. And that’s nothing to say about my master and the Hakurei shrine maiden. You may no longer need to forage for small amounts, but taking too much can also be cause for serious concern. I highly recommend you do something to pay the humans back for what you have… relocated. That way, at least, you might be spared from cruel retribution.”
The bake-danuki was quiet for a while. “I understand
It’s a quiet day, as I like. There are many ways to pass the time, some very exhilarating, others collected. Mine is often associated with the former.
I puff a hit of smoke from my pipe, my pride and joy. Smoking isn’t what I’m referring to, though. That’s very much the latter.
No, the pastime that I prefer and give to the people of this land of Gensokyo is that of gambling. In this room suffocated by my pipe smoke there are many Youkai of all creeds who roll dice, draw cards- and some even bring in tiles on occasion. The regulars are tengu, kappa, and various other miscreants that live on this cutely named Youkai Mountain. I’ve taken residence in my own little corner called the False Heaven Shelf for so long that people who come to play don’t even remember my species, though that’s not their fault. Over the ages everyone began to look closer and closer to humans in appearance, until one day I noticed that my own robes were filled by someone I didn’t quite recognize. Not the worst thing to happen to a mountain hag.
The changing times didn’t stop anyone from enjoying foolish risks or having luck be in their favor, no. I would say it let them enjoy their pastime more than before, treating those human compulsions like their own. The only changes now are remnants of the world we left behind appearing on occasion. Nothing so grand as lost writings or treasures. We’re the kinds of people to look for western card games or new house rules for games on hand.
A couple weeks ago, one of these house rules came into my den. It was a funny little thing at first, just an old hanafuda game called Koi-Koi. Seldom played in my view, the many Youkai decidedly considering it too juvenile for them to participate in. Quite ironic to hear coming from the diminutive kappa, with their upturned heads planted on oversized packs. I thought it no more than nostalgic novelty to see the hanafuda cards broken out, with the preference for western playing cards over the last decades.
What truly caught my eye was when they suggested different house rules. They would shorten the game length from the original twelve rounds to just three. Twelve represents one year, like how the cards of hanafuda
Finally have some time to properly give my thoughts on the story. Sorry for the surprise, but I've actually been wanting to give this piece a proper critique since it first showed up in the front page. I love gambling stories, and all I want from this critique is to simply encourage more writers about this genre. That said, let's begin with the positives...
This version definitely have a better and more concise description than the previous one; I have a good time following the game - as opposed to the original version - and, as a result, the game felt pretty intense too. The little girl from the original is removed, allowing the story to focus more into its main conflict. The story still retain its strong points from the previous version: Sannyo's laidback characterization and her love of gambling is still good. The 'atmosphere' (couldn't find the right word) of Sannyo's gambling life is also great, adding more to the story and making it feel more alive. I also love that you've made Sannyo use her smoke against Yachie, adding more layer of depth into the strategies of the game.
Frankly, I don't think I could point out any real weakness from the story without being overly nitpicking, since the previous version's main weakness (the difficult flow of the game) has been resolved. Perhaps the exposition could flow better if the story starts from Yachie's appearance? Maybe the hook could start immediately with the game they're playing so it would grab the reader's attention? These are merely suggestions. Though, it seems there is an editing mistake in the line when these wolf tengu show up:
>The sliding door slams open and in come wolf tengu. Based on their drawn patrol weapons, they’re obviously not here to gamble.
>The sliding door slams open, and in file three tengu in white. The wolf tengu, and their patrol weapons. These aren’t late gamblers.
It doesn't bother me much, but it's pretty funny to imagine them going over the door twice.
Overall, I really enjoyed it, and I'd say that this is definitely an improvement from the previo
>>3010
Damn, I was trying so much to make sure I didn't really make that mistake but I guess it was inevitable. A little bit of insight, I basically took the chunk that people gave the most critique on, the beginning, and highlighted the whole thing before writing a whole new section effectively on top of it. That was also how I did a bunch of other paragraph redrafts, and that's how it ended up with the wolf tengu coming in twice, I simply forgot to highlight the old to delete. The former quote is the new version whereas the latter is the old.
And I really appreciate the thoughts that you've put in here, I was really happy getting through this and using the major points from the exhibition to touch up the parts that weren't quite landing right. Atmosphere and character is something that I really like to get right when I have the room to add it in, something that I don't give myself the privilege of doing as much in my main story Ecology.
I stated it before in my self critique on the original commentaries, but I originally set out on this idea as a way to practice telling a story using something that I only have a general feel for and that readers would not know on the outset. Using gambling games was a great chance to practice that scenario as even if people think I didn't do well the first time, and even if people will say I didn't do well this time, if I can sway the opinion of some people then that makes the effort worthwhile.
>>3011
Yet another case of Murphy's law taking its victim. Don't worry that much, though. I just find it hillarious more than anything.
I'm glad that my thoughts are appreciated. I personally have difficulty in forming words, so it's good to know that my critique reached you well. I also want to improve my wording as well, so giving these critiques is a nice exercise for me.
‘It’s terrible! And even with my powers, there’s nothing I can do about it!’
‘Clearly, it’s an affront to my sister’s entire existence. To both of our existences, even!’
‘I… I see,’ Sanae said, scratching the back of her head. ‘I can understand why that’s a problem for you, yeah.’
‘Couldn’t you help us?’ Minoriko asked, her eyes wide and pleading. ‘Maybe with you and the Moriya Shrine vouching for us, we could convince her to change her mind.’
Sanae looked away, her lips curling into a grimace. ‘Changing Yuuka’s mind? I… I think that’s impossible. You know how she is, don’t you?’
‘Impossible?’ Shizuha folded her arms, the anguish on her face shifting to annoyance. ‘Aren’t you the shrine maiden who performs miracles? How is anything impossible for you?’
‘Yes, but, well, you see, for a miracle to happen, there has to be at least some chance of the thing occurring naturally…’
Shizuha’s frown deepened. ‘Of course there’s some chance! Reimu has made her change her ways and behave several times! Are you sure you’re not just scared to–’
‘Be-besides!’ Sanae interrupted, ‘Lady Kanako said that I shouldn’t do work for other deities than those of the Moriya Shrine. And, I have errands to run for her, actually!’
‘I don’t think this…’ Minoriko started to say, but the shrine maiden had already hurried off down the path. Sighing, the harvest goddess turned to look at her sister. ‘Urgh, that could’ve gone better. I’d have thought the Moriya representative would show more determination.’
Shizuha nodded. ‘Right! This does not promise much good for the Moriya Shrine, if their shrine maiden cannot…’ She trailed off into silence. After a few seconds, her resolve broke, and she fell to her knees. ‘Oh, Minoriko, what are we going to do? Even the Moriya Shrine is too afraid to challenge Yuuka. How can we possibly win against her?’ She slumped into a sitting position and began to sob.
‘I’m sure it’ll be alright,’ Minoriko said softly, kneeling down beside her sister and wrapping her in a hug. ‘There are many powerf
Post your entries for the exhibition >>/gensokyo/17524 here.
In a world where there are more yokai than there are humans, death is uncommon. That isn't to say it doesn't happen; animals need to eat, outsiders are preyed upon by yokai that need human flesh, and older humans passed on from natural causes. Gensokyo is a small world, and with it, a small amount of death. This leaves Eiki ample free time to lecture people about their vices and how to improve them. When she does, they usually don't follow through, which leads to more lecturing. Outside of trying to help others, Eiki would occasionally give a day to reflect on her actions. Her ability to determine right and wrong and the crystal mirror that can reflect one's past allows her to judge herself without bias. The reason why she has been able to remain patient with people who haven't improved themselves is because she recognizes that she also does it as well.
Like everyone else, Eiki is a creature of habit. Her occupation as a yama made her well aware of this fact. She witnesses her past actions and sees all the errors she could have avoided. During these times of self-reflection, a sense of bitterness would stir her heart. She knows she can do better than this, but like anyone else, changing a habit or your way of behaving is a challenge that even gods struggle with. Whenever that feeling of inadequacy began to form, Eiki would change from her work uniform into a more casual attire and take a walk to gaze at the scenery.
Her walk eventually led her to the village. As she enters, Eiki notices something off. The humans didn't seem different, if quieter than usual, but the atmosphere tugged on Eiki's heart. Something wicked is taking root in the heart of this village. It's what she believed, but what she sees in front of her challenges that belief. They were all good people; not a single one of them deserved to go to hell. In her heart, Eiki should be soaring seeing this, but she couldn't let it slide. She recalled some of these people; she'd lectured them before, and their disinterest was palpable. There's no way they could have turned over a new leaf so soon. Can they?
"...Perhaps I'm being pessimistic." She tells herself. &quo
“Oh, it’s the same as last time?” she asked and immediately betrayed a most childish displeasure. It’s the sort that makes cheeks puff, lips curl, and eyes widen and turn to the heavens as if to highlight her suffering so that the universe would fully witness it. The act also highlighted her deathless youth, as the roundening of her facial features combined with her eternal pallor reminds a casual observer of a bright moon on a chilly winter night. The grains of rice that git stuck to her chin and around the corners of her mouth as she munched vigorously (despite the nominal protest) added some greyish-white contrast—their effect was not too dissimilar to lunar mare.
Such thoughts did not, of course, occur to the target of the complaint. She was much too used to her mistress’ peculiarities and, besides, was too busy concentrating on passing the remaining rice balls to her to think about much. Years of service, however, had trained the retainer to be attentive to the wants of her mistress. So an automatic question, one made without really thinking about the particulars of the situation, sprung forth from her lips, “Is it not to your liking, Lady Yuyuko?”
“It’s not a matter of whether or not it’s to my liking,” Yuyuko frowned, pausing from chewing her afternoon snacks. It was then that she noticed the errant grains of glutenous rice stuck to her face. There was no modesty on display as she picked them off with her fingers and then stuck them into her mouth. She let the individual grains roll around her tongue as if they were sesame grains. She, in fact, was thinking that the rice balls could have done with a touch of toasted sesame for texture’s sake. But she didn’t vocalize that complaint, since she knew it would only distract the girl. Yuyuko had long since lost track of the amount of times she had given what she felt were clear instructions only to see the girl fumble about.
It might be worth clearing up a little misconception before proceeding. Though the world at large sees the girl—her name is Youmu, incidentally—as an earnest servant and something of a personal attendant to the capricious Yuyuko that is just something that
Eirin Yagakoro has received many compliments for her competence in the medical field. Even before the start of Eientei, the lunar capital higher-ups have always held her in high regard. I still remember those moments when, even with their advanced intellect, those Lunarians were baffled by the rate at which the doctor managed to solve her cases. It’s no surprise that the commoners of the Human Village would often have their minds blown away by her, to the point that they accuse her of witchcraft. I heard that modern medicine was the closest thing the outside world had to magic, so those villagers were not wrong, in a sense.
Our time in Gensokyo had provided us with a long list of cases, many of which were basic complications that even a Lunarian rabbit like me could solve, more often than not there were cases where the presence of the doctor was very much needed, as without her, there would be no other individual that had enough experience to solve such cases. One of which, still hot in its trail, was the case of the ninth Child of Miare.
It was an interesting case. In a time when bodily damage was often caused by magic bullets, clients with real, natural sicknesses were deemed as slightly above average in terms of their severity. A twin-tailed little girl came at me during my duty hours. Her yellow apron, along with the red and white dress, was unharmed, with little bells adorning her hair. I thought about the likelihood of a human girl surviving in the Bamboo Forest of the Lost at that time, but the questions vanished as soon as I saw the daughter of Fujiwara in the corner of my eye. She greeted in formality before leaving the girl with me.
I leaned down from the registration desk, bringing my slender bunny ears to the girl’s height. “Hello there, young child. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Miss.” She bowed down. Her tone was one of unease, though, she tried her best to hide it. “This is Eientei, right? I heard that there’s a professional doctor here, I want to meet her in person.”
“Sure thing,” I pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer and clicked the pen in my hand. “What’s the issue?”
The girl hesitated for a second. “I’m afraid it mi