It’s new thread time! That means I can be proud to be doing this fanfiction than longer is probably considered healthy! I love strange obsessions!

[x] No need to make her do something she’s not comfortable with. If I have to nix the idea then so be it.

What am I thinking? Stray thoughts like that are begging for trouble. I need to read the writing on the wall and tell myself that Wakasagihime doesn’t want to do whatever she’s thinking, so I shouldn’t ask her to.

I lean over to the mermaid, and mumble in reply, “Pretend I never asked, then.”

I return to my position, leaving her some personal space that I’m now terribly conscious of. She doesn’t seem too taken by my statement. If she’s thankful, it doesn’t particularly show on her serene, if not placid, smile. If she’s for whatever reason disappointed… well, no. No, she wouldn’t be disappointed to not do something she admits to being embarrassing.

Nor is this something that I should linger on. Ran and I couldn’t wrack our brains for a whole day on how I could travel underwater, but that doesn’t mean I need to chomp at the bit when a convenient answer shows up. We already vetoed so many other ideas for how much I’d need to ingratiate myself to someone or other, this would be arguably worse.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge myself from internal waxing. Wakasagihime seems somewhat confused by my act, but doesn’t question it.

She does, however, ponder, “Are you sure?” Her concern is clear to see. It’s that of a samaritan who barely knows the line between selfless giving and reckless altruism.

“Yes, it’s not that important. If I really start dying of curiosity I’ll ask around,” I try to dissuade her, waving off the notion entirely. I need to at least try and learn from my mistakes with Kogasa. First and foremost, don’t debase my client whenever possible.

“V-very well…” she allows. Was my first impression two weeks ago so bad that she expected me to immediately agree?

I don’t dare to ask. I choose to instead pick my journal up from the dirt, pencil at the ready.

“Now onto the main point of today,” I start, “I’m here to learn about you, miss.”

Wakasagihime flushes a bit, crooning, “Oh my. So forward.” She pauses, losing her embarrassment as she more practically asks, “But why would you want to know about me? I don’t consider myself so interesting.”

“No need to be so modest,” I retort. “There’s definitely a lot to know about someone like you. If you want, we can start simple. Your name has the word hime in it, but what are you the princess of?”

She chuckles at the question, “Nothing, actually. That’s more like a nickname the villagers gave me some decades ago.”

“What?”

“What?” Ran also emits, taken aback. I look at my partner, hoping my skeptical brow is enough of a question for her. “Wakasagihime is what is on record for the Youkai census. The Yakumo name takes great care to keep that particular record accurate, even against more nominally troublesome individuals. Why did you not use your proper name when asked, mermaid?”

Wakasagihime flinches at Ran’s addressing, evoking a nervous response of, “I-I didn’t mean to. I thought it was the name everyone knows me by in this world and so it was close enough to a proper name.”

“Hang on, I feel like we’re opening a can of worms, now,” I grunt, rubbing at my forehead. I then realize, “Ah, forgive the pun. I might have fish too much on the mind.”

“Hehe,” the mermaid giggles, “I think I can understand. But as to the name… My name in the world outside of Gensokyo is Wakasa.”

“You mean… I was about to ask if your name really isn’t Wakasagi, but that’s a type of fish, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. It’s quite the little story, though. When I first found myself in the lake I quickly realized I was stranded. The human villagers were very timid to talk back then, since only the passerby fisherman could be seen here. Eventually a very elderly man decided to steel himself and talk to me.”

“Why were they afraid?” I interject. “Did they not know what mermaids were?”

“Those well read on Youkai would have probable knowledge of mermaids,” Ran contextualizes, looming above me as always.

“Well, this is still a landlocked area. I’m one of the very few sea Youkai here. And definitely the only one that can surface.”

My pencil stops short. “There’s others down there?”

I glance at the surface of the lake, still calm and composed as ever. Swimming in it sounds less advisable by the second.

Wakasa sees my glance, and the horror therein, and adds, “Oh, they’re not so bad. They all live at the bottom, but don’t like stirring up much of anything these days. Truthfully they all act like my aunts and uncles with how old they all are.”

“Uhuh…” I mutter, uncertain what she could possibly mean by that. When I hear sea-bound Youkai my mind immediately goes to things like a kraken. Her mind must go somewhere else entirely. I realize the tangent I’ve set us on and correct myself, “Sorry, I interrupted you. You said an old fisherman talked to you?”

“Yes, we had a pleasant conversation, but he was hard of hearing. I think from there he misheard my name as wakasagi and the rest stems from there,” she explains.

“So where does the ‘princess’ part come in?”

“That is… probably this,” she says, showing off her flower patterned green kimono and purple obi. “My tribe loved and cared for our clothes. I’ve been told humans think we’re like royalty when they see our brilliant outfits.” She takes a moment to appreciate the pattern and texture of her kimono. Though there’s a sort of longing in her eyes as she does so. Obviously her dress means more to her than regular clothes, but even besides that she’s right about how beautiful it is. I would be hard pressed to deny her flawless beauty even if I were standing next to Keine.

I focus on the next question, one I find obvious. “Tribe? You had family in the outside world?”

“Yes, and I hope that is still so. I do miss my mother at times,” she permits the errant thought. She realizes her bleeding emotions and contains herself when continuing, “Ah, but don’t mind me, you probably want to hear about my tribe, don’t you?”

“I… if you could be so kind,” I confess, disappointed that I’m containing myself from being more sympathetic for her.

I don’t have folks outside, myself. Parents are long since gone, no siblings, and cousins are all too distant to matter, even in the information age. I couldn’t imagine the pain of having a tie to my old life that would never get resolved. It must be a homesickness that stabs worse than a knife.

She recounts her old family in detail. Mermaids, and mermen, if that’s what you’d call them, live in small communities at the bottom of the sea, generally partaking in hunter-gatherer lifestyles. Wakasa’s tribe were particularly interested in human made textile, the kind that could be used underwater without issue. In her youth her tribe would work tirelessly to obtain small rolls of silk. This would mean finding all forms of underwater treasure that they could barter, the extent of which is well beyond either of our understanding.

If I think the bottom of the lake is a different world then the bottom of the sea is purely incomprehensible to me.

She returns to the sweets as she continues her story of receiving her kimono when she came of age, being handed it directly from her mother, and cherishing it above all other things.

She becomes misty eyed when getting to her tale of being spirited away, describing the experience as losing herself in the open waters until realizing her confinement to the Misty Lake. It took her a very long time to come to terms with never seeing her family again, and still hoping that she might at some time later.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Wakasa,” I comment when she finishes.

“Oh, there’s no need to be sorry for my sake, mister Regis,” Wakasa frets, her hands waving about. “And please, just call me Wakasagihime. I’ve more or less taken to the name now.”

“Alright then, Wakasagihime,” I properly address her, silly as the name may be.

I wait a moment for her to pick up the conversation, but some stray thought seems to keep her pensive.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, so quiet that I question if I really heard it. Even more, I wonder if her mild choking of the words is also my imagination.

“Hm?”

“Ah, uhm, thank you,” she says more confidently, her air of elegance taking the reigns of her emotions. She checks the sweets bag again for something to distract her.

Unluckily for me there is something left, the mint that I stowed as a curiosity. Her heavy eyes give way to interested sparkles when seeing the colorful thing. She looks over the green chip, once more inspecting the article like something new and novel, and scratches the surface with a fingernail.

A small amount is flaked off, leading her to ask, “What sort of stone is this?”

I puff with amusement at her assessment and answer, “Not a stone at all. It’s a piece of hard candy. You put it in your mouth and let it sit. It’ll melt with time.”

She looks at me, the sparkle in her eyes remaining, but now clearly confused. She cautiously brings it to her mouth, worried about putting it straight to her tongue. Her instincts must be telling her that she’s about to stuff a pebble in her mouth.

The moment she closes her mouth on the mint I see some conflicting opinions on her face.

“It’s… like a sheet of ice on my tongue, and yet sweet,” she sputters, the mint on the tip of her tongue causing lisps in her words.

I get the bag of them from my pack, and pop one myself. The flavor of mint is strong, probably stronger than mints I’d get from home. I’d guess it’s something to do with how they have to make it more traditionally. That said, it’s nothing unusual to me, but it seems to be taking Wakasagihime for a ride. Reminds me of the time I had a burger without knowing the mayo was actually horse radish.

Whilst I’m busy spectating Wakasagihime’s internal debate of spitting out the candy or not, a hand comes in from behind me and steals from the bag. I turn to follow the hand as it pops the candy into its owner’s mouth.

“Cirno! Ask before you take something!” I reprimand the fairy’s whims.

She pays no mind to my nagging, instead appreciating the cold touch of the mint’s flavor. She seems to be at some form of peace with it in her mouth, as if understanding something greater in the world. I should say it’s no surprise that an ice fairy likes mints, but I’d sworn her childish nature would have repulsed her from the biting flavor.

Another hand rustles the bag. Wakasagihime takes another piece, this time more pleased than pained by the sugary icicle. I close up the bag with a sigh, knowing it’ll be gone quite quickly if left out.

“Oh, boo!” Cirno scoffs at the act, crossing her arms and puffing her cheeks.

“Maybe a thank you for what you already nabbed would be warranted? How would you like it if I took your food?” I retort.

“Mmm…” Cirno hums a repugnant trill, rocking back onto a leg. She’s wearing her crown once more, newly formed ice crystals encasing burnt flowers. “I wanted to see what you were up to, not get lectured… again…”

“I thought you liked my lectures?” I taunt the girl.

“Nope, they’re suuuper boring,” she murks, sticking out her tongue for good measure.

Wakasagihime gasps in understanding at our conversation, “So you’re the human that set Cirno alight!”

“… Phrasing?” I half joke, wondering what she means exactly.

She waves Cirno over, and pinches at the fairy’s cheek when she draws near. Cirno’s not the quickest to swat away the doting gesture, but she certainly fumes after. Wakasagihime giggles and continues with a smile, “Our favorite little idiot has been very eager to fight everyone around the lake. I’ve been quite beside myself since she freezes so much of the shoreline when it’s me and my friends she fights. It’s not easy to drag myself to the water, you know.”

She playfully narrows her eyes at Cirno, the fae awkwardly laughing off the legitimate complaint to her actions. I might not be in the wrong to lecture her so often, after all.

Something Wakasagihime just said catches my interest, though. “Wouldn’t you just fly back to the water?” I ask.

“Not everyone can fly, you know…” Wakasagihime states indignantly.

We all pause, letting silence fill in the gaps of the conversation. That and those fairies playing in the distance.

I glance at Ran, she glances at me, and we both glance at Wakasagihime.

“Really?” Ran is the one to ask.

“Oh don’t give me that!” Wakasagihime defends her dignity. She points to me and furthers, “He can’t fly, correct?!”

“I’m… also not something thought to exist in myth, you realize,” I lever back the argument. In my distracted state, I bring the pencil to my forehead, likely leaving a black streak. “So, wait. Does that mean you’re really bound to the lake? Not just Gensokyo?”

“Mostly..?” Wakasagihime ventures to answer, though she fingers a lip as she searches her memory. “Ah, there is the wheelchair Kagerou brought me once. We didn’t really like the arrangement so I haven’t seen it since.”

Cirno waddles behind her, hugging her from behind as she asks, “But you haven’t seen the top of the mountain?”

“I have not.”

“You haven’t seen the bottom of the underground?”

“No, why would I go there?”

“Adventure!” Cirno announces, leaping up high and pontificating the point with a finger raised skyward. She lands down with a giggly bounce, merry as can be at the idea.

“What are you on about, Cirno?” I beggar the fairy’s attention away from her imagination.

“We can bring fish lady out of her lake and on an adventure. A great adventure! Fit for a fairy king!” Cirno raptures, her arms valiantly raised in excitement.

“Queen,” Ran corrects.

“King! Queen doesn’t sound as strong.”

“The princess is sitting right here,” I josh. “But more than that, you should hear her thoughts on the matter before deciding anything. Trust me.”

Cirno halts at the very suggestion that Wakasagihime would decline the gracious opportunity her magnanimous self offers. And so, grovelling at the princess’s scaled lap, she implores her, “Please, please, please go on an adventure!”

Wakasagihime lifts the child atop her lap and replies in kind, “But wherever should we go, great king of fairies?” She looks over to me, Cirno following her gaze alongside.

Though not thrilled by the absurdity, I play along and question, “What am I in this scenario?”

“Royal advisor!” Cirno responds with impressive certainty.

“And why do you actually know what that is?”

“Daiyousei told me about it. She’s also a royal advisor. A good job, mhm,” she confirms to herself.

Does she understand what a job is? Does comparing me to Daiyousei put me high or low in her pecking order?

No, before that, they’re looking at me. Is Wakasagihime really expecting me to make the decision for her? Well… I mean I guess I can.

[x] The mountain. A place of tengu and gods, all of whom surely love visitors.

[x] The underground. The depths of truly dangerous and strange Youkai.

[x] Somewhere else! (Write-in)

---

For those curious, one of the other votes (on both THP and AO3) was correct to determine it was a kiss. I guess I’m getting predictable, gonna need to work on that.