Akyuu’s hand trembled. With some reluctance, she raised her other hand and wrapped it around her wrist. The tremors settled, and she slowly moved both her arms down. The tip of the brush met paper, but the resulting stroke was stiff, inelegant, like the first scribblings of a child. One by one, she peeled her fingers away from her wrist again, and the shaking resumed.

Sighing, she set down her brush and stretched her arms, and then each of her fingers. After holding that pose for a few seconds, she clenched her hands into fists and opened them again. She repeated the movement several times, before relaxing and resting her arms upon her desk.

Just as she was about to reach for her brush once more, her attention was drawn by the rustling of a sliding door and a gust of warm air, and she looked up.

‘Ah, Keine,’ she said. ‘Good afternoon.’

The schoolteacher curtseyed before kneeling down in front of Akyuu’s desk. ‘Good afternoon to you too. Though, I think at this point the time may better be called “evening”.’

Akyuu glanced towards a clock in the corner of the room. ‘You’re right,’ she said, and turned back towards her visitor. ‘It has been a while, hasn’t it? Are you well?’

‘I’m fine, I just haven’t had quite as much free time as I would like recently. My work has been keeping me pretty busy.’ She brushed her hand along one of the piles of paper that sat on – and beside – the scribe’s desk. ‘By the looks of it, so has yours.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Akyuu replied, a slight frown furrowing her brow. ‘Would you care for some tea?’ To her left, a red teapot stood in an alcove in the wall, below a scroll painted by a previous Child of Miare.

Keine thought for a moment, and then chuckled. ‘Oh, I’m done with my work for today, I want to unwind a bit. Why don’t we drink some sake?’

Akyuu looked down at the half-finished report in front of her. ‘I shouldn’t, really. I have not yet completed the work I set out to do today.’

‘It’s already getting quite late. Shouldn’t you take a break?’ Keine smiled gently. ‘Besides, it’s not like anyone else is keeping you to a deadline, are they?’

‘They are not, but I was trying to… keep my time organised, I suppose.’ She took in a deep breath, and as she let it out her mouth slowly twisted into a grin. ‘Ah, fine, let’s drink, since you are here. After all, if I don’t get this finished, I could always tell myself it was your fault rather than mine.’

The two of them laughed briefly, and after Akyuu called out to one of her attendants, they made their way outside. The sliding doors opened onto a porch, whose roof, coupled with a soft breeze, shielded them from the worst of the sun’s radiance. However, it could not be denied that it was a day that felt more like midsummer than autumn, even as the sky was beginning to turn red.

Akyuu sat down, dangling her legs over the edge of the porch, and listened to the chirping of the cicadas in the bushes, as the air glistened with heat above nearby rooftops. After a languid, stretched-out period of time that was probably about five minutes, a servant emerged from the building with a bottle and two bamboo cups.

They gave their thanks, and the servant bowed before departing as swiftly as he came. As they began to pour the sake into their cups, Keine cleared her throat quietly. Akyuu saw that the teacher, who had sat down beside her, was still smiling, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes.

‘Are you alright, Akyuu?’ she asked. ‘You look a bit… tired. Haggard.’

The scribe let out a half-laugh and took a sip of her drink. ‘Yes, my work has been increasingly stressful as of late. There are so many things in Gensokyo that need to be chronicled, and I only have so much time.’ She held up her empty hand and stared at her palm. ‘In fact, I don’t even know how much time I have. My last few incarnations died when they were not much older than I am right now.’

‘But it’s not as if you are fated to die at a specific time, is it?’

‘No, it’s not, and with Eientei being around…’ She lifted a small pouch from the folds of her kimono and pulled out of it a few pills and capsules. ‘…I have more recourse available than my previous incarnations did. Still, my body continually reminds me of its frailty, of how I might die at any moment. It makes it hard to justify taking a break when I know that all the rest of Gensokyo will be relying on my work for the next century. So, often I just keep working without taking breaks, and that’s not entirely pleasant, either.’

Keine drew up her legs and scooted backward when a butterfly drifted past her face. ‘Hm, I didn’t realise you felt that way. You’ve talked to me a lot in the past about how much you enjoy your work, learning and writing about everything and everyone in Gensokyo.’

‘I do enjoy it, but when you do the same thing from morning till night for days on end, even writing starts to feel like a chore. The sense of duty, of having to do it, wears down motivation like a whetstone. And the Chronicle is not the full extent of my duties as a Hieda, either. You would not believe the amount of meetings I have to sit through with the family elders, to ensure the future of the clan, to ensure that the next Children of Miare will have the best possible blah, blah, blah. It’s a massive waste of what little time I have.’

The butterfly alighted upon Akyuu’s foot, and she watched idly as it drank from her sweat for a few moments before continuing on its way. Keine waited patiently for her to speak again, and eventually she did. ‘What may be the most aggravating thing is that, when I do have some time away from writing or clan business… well, there are so many things I want to do, you know? There’s so much to see in Gensokyo, so many people to meet, but I have so little time, and I can do only one thing at a time! Whenever…’ She interrupted herself to take a larger gulp of sake than before. ‘Whenever I do have a chance to sit down and think about what I want to do, there’s so much that I just feel overwhelmed. I feel such a panic that I need to do this and that now, because I won’t get another chance if I die tomorrow, that even free time stops being fun and starts feeling like more work!’ Finding her cup empty, she grabbed the sake bottle and filled it again.

‘But what if–’ Keine started to say something, but Akyuu wasn’t done.

‘And even when I do get a chance to do something, I get so caught up in thinking about what I wouldn’t be able to do if I did that, that half of the time I end up not even doing anything at all! So I just sit there, doing nothing but worrying, until I have to do more work!’ She took another gulp, so large that it felt like her throat was burning, and she burst into a fit of coughs. ‘I just… I…’ She couldn’t get any more words out, and slammed her cup down onto the porch before burying her head in her hands.

‘Akyuu…’ came Keine’s voice. The scribe looked up, and the flush of alcohol on her cheeks was joined by one of mortification. Keine looked at her with a solemn expression that bore a tinge of pity – just enough to make Akyuu’s hands ball into fists. She couldn’t stand pity. Throughout her life, relatives and strangers alike pitied her, the girl cursed to die young because of her inherited power. She was sick of it! But, she reminded herself, Keine was her friend, and she genuinely meant well, so she fought down her irritation and unclenched her fists.

‘I… argh, I’ve been talking your ear off, haven’t I? Sorry, Keine.’ She stared at her sake cup. ‘I guess I’m still a lightweight.’

Keine placed a hand upon her shoulder. ‘It’s alright, Akyuu. It’s important to talk about your worries and burdens. You don’t really have anyone you can confide in within your family, do you?’

‘That is correct,’ Akyuu replied, making no attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice. As she tried to steady her breathing, she gazed into the distance, where a village woman was gathering clothes that had been drying on a wooden frame. ‘What were you going to say earlier, when I talked over you?’

‘…I don’t remember.’

‘Tch, some keeper of history you are.’ She chuckled half-heartedly at her own half-hearted joke, and watched as a banner flapped in the wind on the roof of one of the nearest houses, bearing a handwritten advertisement of some kind of festival. ‘I suppose you’ve got a lecture full of life advice ready to give me now, don’t you, miss schoolteacher?’

Keine opened her mouth, but closed it again, and turned to look at the darkening sky, folding her hands in her lap. After a minute, she took a small sip of her own drink and said, ‘No, not really. I’m not as good at these kinds of things as you may think. Something that’s nice about being a teacher is that the issues that children have are usually a lot simpler than those of adults.’ A subtle pained look crossed her face when she said “usually”, but neither of them chose to comment on it. ‘If you do want advice, then I can say that, from what I’ve heard over the years, pretty much every human encounters what you were talking about at some point in their lives. Even I feel that way sometimes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Teaching can get wearisome if you do it for a long time. And I’m not just a teacher.’ Keine sighed and leaned against one of the pillars holding up the porch’s roof. ‘I don’t really have any formal duties or obligations with regards to my power, not the way you do with your clan. But protecting the village does lead me into difficult situations sometimes, and there have also been occasions where I’ve ended up owing people like Lady Yukari favours… well, to put it simply, those times when I’ve been forced to use my power usually haven’t been happy ones. I’ve seen and done some things I’d rather forget.’

‘I understand. There’s some pretty terrible tragedies written down in the Chronicle, too.’

The conversation died down. They sat side by side, with a silence between them which bore the weight of regrets and anxieties, but remained companionable. The only sounds that could be heard were the cicadas and some distant bustling from the interior of the mansion and the village. Eventually, when Keine had emptied her own cup, she perked up.

‘I’ll have to leave soon, but I thought of something. If you want to do something fun which will distract you from the pressure of your work, why don’t you go talk to Kosuzu? She told me recently she’d found more magical books that you might be able to help her understand, and I’m sure she’s got more of those novels you like to read.’

For the first time that day, Akyuu burst into outright laughter. ‘Really? That’s your great advice?’ she said as she tried to regain her breath. ‘Just to foist me off on someone else?’

Keine shrugged and started to get to her feet. ‘I’m not much of a therapist, particularly not after I’ve had a long day of work and I’ve been drinking sake.’

‘No, no, it’s a good idea! It has been too long since I’ve spoken with that foolish girl. That ought to be entertaining, at least.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear that.’

‘Thank you for putting up with me, Keine. Even if you don’t have some kind of life-changing advice, your commiseration is much appreciated.’

‘You’re welcome. I’m always happy to lend an ear to a friend. Good evening, Akyuu.’

‘Good evening.’

As Keine departed, silence fell upon the mansion once more. The cicadas continued to chirp, the village continued to bustle, and the sky before Akyuu turned to a haze of deep crimson.

“Forgive my rough handling of you, but I’m afraid you were acting unreasonably.”

Through ringing in her ears, Sakata Nemuno — her own name one of few facts she recalled at the moment — could hardly make out the words she was hearing in the muddle of consciousness, much less comprehend them. For that matter, her head felt as if it were splitting open. Had she been tricked into drinking with those damned tengu again?

“Oh dear, I may have overdone it. She did look fairly strong, though. Certainly strong enough, considering…” The same voice was talking to someone else. Maybe it was the buzzing in her head, but it felt to Nemuno that there were too many voices around. “Miss? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, what d’you want?” slurred the mountain hag, trying to blink her way into seeing straight. She could just make out three shapes. Or was that four? They were moving too much to tell.

“Can you tell me your name?” Whoever was asking was now speaking slowly, enunciating every syllable. Just the way those traders did when they thought they were talking to an idiot.

“Nemuno. Talk to me normally. I ain’t stupid.” Nemuno batted at the shapes but couldn’t touch any of them. At least they were getting a little clearer. And the buzzing in her head was growing louder. She clutched her skull in pain as she sat up. “Ow! Somebody knock the fire out of me? I ain’t hurt this bad in a while.”

The shapes drew closer all at once, sliding around in Nemuno’s vision to melt into each other. A pair of hands guided her neck by the sides of her head to point straight at something. The something slowly grew sharper until Nemuno recognised that it was a person. They were kneeling right in front of her, a woman with hair that rivalled her own in length, draping down her back, though straighter and of a funny colour, brown-ish but turning purple as it went along. She wore a gentle smile that only slightly creased with concern.

“Tell me, can you see?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful. I had hoped I hadn’t destroyed your vision. Now, can you tell me what you see? Do you recognise me?”

Nemuno groaned in both annoyance and pain. “I see someone who needs to let go of me. And I dunno who you are. You ain’t a tengu or kappa — I know that much.”

Unwavering in her smile, the strange woman unhanded Nemuno, though she didn’t move away. A figure behind the woman leaned in to say something quietly, to which she responded with a dismissive wave of the hand. She turned to offer Nemuno a deep bow.

“It’s good to see that you’re already recovering some of your spirit. I am Byakuren Hijiri, head priest of the Myouren Temple. A pleasure to meet you. And I must apologise again. I was forced to… well, I render you unconscious for a bit. I should hope you’re calmer now than before. You were causing quite a stir in the middle of our temple fair.”

Nemuno noticed that she was indoors somewhere, maybe the ‘temple’ Byakuren was talking about. Whereever it was, there were mats on the floor and paper-screened doors. A bouquet of pine, rice straw, and some other heavy, perfumed scent wafted about. To Nemuno, it was the smell of civilisation. She wrinkled her nose. She already sensed the situation turning troublesome.

Nemuno goggled at the so-called head priest dubiously. “You clocked me?”

“Yes, well, as I said,” Byakuren went on, clearing her throat rather loudly, “you were acting unreasonably. Which I mean to talk to you about now that you’re awake.” She turned to speak over her shoulder. “Ichirin?”

The figure seated behind the head priest leaned in to pass something off. Mingled scents of dirt and sweat made Nemuno’s attention snap to whatever was being held in Byakuren’s arms. She recognised the smell but couldn’t place it right away. All she knew was that she had been after it.

A few muted snorts sounded in the silence of the room. Byakuren faced Nemuno with a stern look on her face. “I see you’re starting to remember now. Yes, this was the cause of the trouble. Not that I blame your actions up to arriving here, mind. There was no way of realising.”

Wriggling around in Byakuren’s arms was a jet-black boar piglet, which sat regarding the mountain hag with fierce eyes. It gave a loud snort and squealed its displeasure being faced with her.

Byakuren petted the piglet’s head to quiet it. “This little one belongs to the temple. We found him wandering near the temple, his mother gone from this world. Since then, my disciples and I have cared for him, though we’ve not been able to stop him from wandering off. To think he had been going all the way up the Mountain. It’s a wonder this didn’t happen sooner.”

Nemuno shook her head in bafflement. “Hold on, what’s that got to do with… Ah.”

In a sudden burst of clear-headedness, Nemuno recalled the smell of dirt being the same as that of her sanctuary. The memory of finding a dug hole and giving chase to something fleeing returned soon after. Yes, she had chased after the piglet. Squealing in terror, it weaved its way both through thick woods and down craggy Mountain paths, somehow evading its pursuer all the while. Impressively, it had also been hauling a mountain yam over twice its size.

She had been so focused on catching the thief that she hardly noticed how far she’d come from her territory. Only when she stumbled into an immense crowd of humans, losing sight of her quarry in the process, did she realise. The looks of horror and alarm she met with had been more than mutual. Not so very long after, Byakuren had emerged from within the crowd, meeting Nemuno with the same neutral smile, though her fists were already cautiously bared. In her agitation, the mountain hag had raised her hatchet threateningly. After that…

Nemuno felt pain a short pain stab at her head again. Growling at the piglet in her assailant’s arms, she cradled her aching skull. “You bashed me good to keep me from my dinner.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on whether or not he’s your dinner, I’m afraid. In fact, I’m going to have beseech you: Please let this little one off. I’ll gladly make up for any loss you incurred.” Byakuren bowed her head solemnly, hiding the piglet in her bosom as she bent forward.

“Planting those yams wasn’t easy,” Nemuno muttered, unable to quite muster the indignation she wanted seeing the head priest bowing.

Looking over her shoulder once more, Byakuren scooted aside to let the figure behind her shift forward. A blue-haired young woman in a dark hood regarded Nemuno with a look of naked disdain before producing a long mountain yam that smelled of her sanctuary’s earth.

“Safe and sound,” spat the girl.

“Ichirin,” Byakuren warned her before indicating the yam. “What my disciple means to say is that we were able to recover your produce without incident. And as a show of sincerity, if you’ll allow, we’re willing to serve you a meal out of it.”

The girl named Ichirin snorted, prompting a similar sound from the piglet. “Only for a favour, though.”

“That is a separate matter, Ichirin. Please don’t confuse Miss Nemuno with unnecessary chatter.” Despite her smiling face, Byakuren’s tone dipped into something approaching icy severity. Her ‘disciple’ winced, losing the smugness from her own countenance. Even the mountain hag, fearsome in her own way, felt a chill run down her spine. “As to the other matter, does that sound suitable? If you can make do with our humble efforts…” the head priest went on, turning swiftly to Nemuno with a renewed smile.

Nemuno looked blankly at Byakuren a moment, shifted her attention to her purloined yam, over to the half-hidden piglet, and at last back to Byakuren. Not too much consideration was required before she snatched up the yam in one hand and patted around her in search of her hatchet, with which she was almost never parted. Coming up empty-handed, she felt a twinge of much stronger irritation.

“You got my hatchet?” she demanded of Byakuren.

The ‘head priest’ inclined her head to one side, pursing her thin lips. “Your blade? We do have it, yes. I’m afraid we can’t relinquish it just now. Potential instruments of violence are unsuited to a place of solitude such as ours. However, worry not. It’s in safe-keeping in our storage for the moment. When you leave, I shall have one of my disciples fetch it.”

Ignoring the throbbing in her skull, Nemuno got to her feet and stomped towards one of the papered doors. “Whatever, I’ve had enough.”

“You mean to leave? Now might not be the best—”

Sharp, blood-red light from an early evening sun assailed Nemuno through the wide-open door. Immediately, the dull ache intensified, throbbing turned back into buzzing. Worse was the cacophany of voices. Not since her last trading excursion had Nemuno seen as many people as were milling about within eyeshot of the building. Nausea seized her stomach. Her breath caught. Her knees quivered. No more — this was too much.

The door slammed shut. Thoroughly irritated with herself, she rounded on Byakuren, facing her with the scowl of a Mountain wolf baring its fangs at a trespasser.

“Too many people,” she hissed.

“We are in the midst of a fair, yes,” replied Byakuren with some confusion. Seeing no acknowledgement from Nemuno, a crease of worry formed in her brow. “Ah, dear me. Do you not know what a fair is? I suppose it was unfair of me to assume. In any case, you did seem to have trouble with the crowd earlier as well.”

The mountain hag stalked over to the other side of the building, peeking momentarily out of the door there before shutting it in agitation. There were just as many on that side, if not more. When had they all shown up? What hollow did they emerge from? They reminded her of a swarm of cicadas in the height of summer.

Byakuren loudly cleared her throat. “As mentioned, it seemed to me even earlier that crowds don’t agree with you. Unfortunately, with the temple holding its fair, I’m afraid we’ll be inundated with visitors into the night. There will simply be too many people to leave right now. And once night falls, the youkai will come in similar numbers. At earliest, I suspect it would be sometime around dawn before you could walk out unbothered.”

Falling into stormy silence, Nemuno felt her already pale face drain of its remaining colour. This was the problem with civilisation — too many damned people, and none of them right in the head. If what she got in a little peek was anything to go by, there was no way she’d be able to just march out there and bull her way through. For that matter, now that she considered it, she had no clue where this temple was besides being a long run down the Mountain. A long way from home, in other words.

“Well,” Nemuno challenged, trying to feel out her unsteady voice, already unusued to speaking more than a few words at any time, “what am I supposed to do until then? If I wait ‘til dawn, you gonna show me how to get home?”

“Now that you’re awake, I believe we can finally get to the heart of the matter.” Byakuren looked over at her disciple and waved her hand. “Leave us, Ichirin. There are visitors who need assistance, I expect.”

Stopping momentarily to give Nemuno a look that seemed as much pitying as derisive, Ichirin rose to her feet and stalked from the room through one of the side doors, taking the boar piglet from Byakuren’s arms as she passed.

The head priest stood slowly, showing herself to stand at a far more imposing stature than at first glance. Flashing a calm smile, she waved for Nemuno to follow her. To Nemuno, the smile took on a more ominous character. However, she was left with little choice but to follow, though she kept a distance of several paces from Byakuren, still uneasy around the woman who knocked her out.

Together, they exited the small matted room, which gave way to another similar room, slightly larger, and then another, this one much darker despite the fading daylight outside. Nemuno could see from the doorway that someone inside was laid out on a futon. Evidently unconcerned about them, Byakuren stepped inside to seat herself at a low table, gesturing at an unoccupied cushion at her side. Only soft breathing noises came from the supine figure, mingled with occasional unclear muttering. Even as she seated herself near Byakuren, Nemuno’s attention was drawn more to the other end of the room.

“You needn’t worry about waking him as long as you’re not too loud,” murmured Byakuren.

Now that she looked, Nemuno saw that the slumbering figure was both a human and a fairly young one, at that. She blinked in mild surprise. “What’s he doing here?”

“I admit that I am as puzzled as you. He was slung over your back when you arrived. It was a good thing, too. Time out in the wild with no food or water left him in a pitiable state. Had you not brought him…”

Caught somewhere between bewilderment and pain in her skull, Nemuno clutched her head once more, blinking furiously, trying to catch her breath. “I don’t remember that.”

Byakuren touched mountain hag’s shoulder firmly. For such slender arms, there felt to be an unnatural strength in them. She regarded Nemuno with a pitying smile. “Regardless, you brought him to us, and for that I have to thank you. I would like to show my appreciation by having you stay the night. Considering your circumstances, you have little choice at the moment in any case. We would, as I have said, be so glad as to offer you dinner as well, given the trouble we have caused you. Of course, in exchange, I would like to extract a promise from you, if you’d be so kind.”

There it was. Nemuno looked up to see Byakuren regarding her with an eager look in her eye, the ever-present smile drawn ever so slightly wider. Had she not sustained such a blow earlier, she would have been tempted to grapple with the head priest, tug on her pretty, long hair and bloody her nose a bit. The ache in her head served as a reminder: there was no fighting any deal with this woman. She loudly clicked her tongue in frustration.

If there was one thing that raised the ire of a mountain hag, it was coercion. Mutual interest was meant to be the foundation of all interactions between herself and others. If they had something of interest, she would try to offer something in return. That was only fair. At the same time, either party had to be free to walk away if they were displeased. Trying to corner her in any way was a sign of bad faith. She’d had enough experience with tengu traders playing words games to ensnare her in deals she didn’t like. It disappointed her to see that such things weren’t solely of the Mountain and its brutality.

“Why don’tcha just put me in a cage, too, while you’re at it?” Nemuno growled.

“Dear me. I haven’t said you were obliged. I know mountain hags like you are all about fairness in exchange. Well, separate of the matter of you going home,” reiterated Byakuren with intense stress on the word ‘separate’, “I would like to offer you dinner in exchange for a simple favour. I want nothing but your time, seeing as you’re here.”

“That ain’t the full truth. Else you wouldn’t be pushing me.”

The smile on Byakuren’s face wilted into a mild frown, and she gave a heavy sigh, touching her cheek and inclining her head. “I see. I suppose I cannot blame you for doubting my sincerity. A great many do. And I do tend to keep temple business… uncomplicated for outsiders. Nonetheless, if you insist, I’ll try my best to explain. What value you might take in knowing, I cannot be sure.”

---

All Nemuno could think about at the time was catching the little swine. Had she the space to think about the situation — running full-tilt down the Mountain after a boar piglet dragging a mountain yam in its mouth — she might have stopped herself, finding the whole thing ridiculous. Yet, as a mountain hag, proud in her own way, she couldn’t tolerate theft, especially from wild animals. Especially from edible ones.

That single-mindedness of purpose eroded any sense of awareness on her part. A sort of self-righteous fury powered her already powerful legs, and she barrelled through all obstacles she couldn’t dodge: fences, barriers, carts, sheds, shops, checkpoints, and all else she could scarcely name. The civilisation she scorned found itself left in tatters in her wake, a storm of wood splinters, gravel, dirt, and even glass attending her passage. Her frenzy dulled any sense of the many small injuries marring her otherwise tough hide, its appearance and suppleness she retained much personal pride in, much less of the alarmed and incensed calls of tengu and kappa having had their businesses and domiciles disturbed. Even the growing tears and rips in her clothes, rendered fashionable by her own tastes and sensibilities beyond simple function, failed to break her focus from the pursuit. Her eyes only saw black; her ears only heard terrified squealing; and her nose only smelled sweaty beast.

The black beast had wended its way through a wooded area and out into a clearing. Nemuno could smell the thing close by, probably only a few paces removed, but it had ducked out of sight under the brush; with a clearer head, she would have applauded its cleverness. However, killing intent had sharpened only the most necessary senses for finding her prey. She drew in a deep sniff of the air trying to follow its scent. A soft rustle in the underbrush and a low snort drew her attention to somewhere behind her. Getting a tighter grip on her hatchet, Nemuno ducked low to shuffle towards the source of the noise. Even as she moved, the snorting and rustling stayed in the same place, growing clearer as she drew closer. Her muscles wound up, ready to explode with force to propel her in a flying leap.

All of a sudden, the piglet let out a squeal. That as her signal, Nemuno tore through the brush, making a beeline for its position, tracking its attempted flight with her ears. She shifted her trajectory as she ran, bending her path to intercept it. As she closed in, its squealing now loud in her ears, she let out a cry of her own, the growling scream of an enraged animal. Grass, dirt, and twigs flew behind her as her feet dug rents into the ground. Her hatchet was raised. Then, it fell from her grip. Something had collided with her foot, throwing her to the ground.

At first, the mountain hag wasn’t sure what she was looking at. The small figure could have passed for some kind of kappa had he been wearing their odd blue-green clothes. His ears didn’t have the tell-tale points of most tengu, and he certainly didn’t have any wolf-like features of the others. He lacked for any obvious features that would have painted him as any sort of youkai. That only left the somewhat absurd possibility that he was a human, one that Nemuno found difficult to believe, and yet she couldn’t deny that one seemed to be lying right at her feet. By the looks of it, he was a young one at that. His face was dirt-covered, his clothes likewise. Dotted up and down his skin were small scrapes and cuts. His trek up the Mountain had clearly been rough.

Shaking her head, Nemuno tried to return her attention to the matter of highest priority. Ignoring the unconscious human, she reached for her hatchet, only to catch an unexpected glimpse of her purloined mountain yam laying on the ground not too far away. However, before she could stand up to take a step, she was arrested by something catching her skirt. The young human had latched on and was muttering something feverishly.

“Hey, let go!” Nemuno snapped, wrenching at the hand clasping her skirt. The last thing she wanted was further tears in the clothes she worked hard to make by hand.

The fingers loosened with a small effort but then clasped her hand instead. The boy was determined, even in unconsciousness, to cling to Nemuno no matter what. Grumbling, she opted to hoist him up in one arm, still clinging onto her clothes, uninterested in wasting further time. The piglet’s scent trail was fresh enough to follow if she hurried.

Holding the boy under her arm like a bundle of firewood, she shuffled to recover the yam lying on the ground. The added weight made her movement awkward, and she couldn’t bend down all the way without losing her balance. She tried slowly squatting whilst keeping her balance in hopes of being able to keep hold of both the boy and the yam. To grab hold and not pitch forward required enough of her attention that she failed to hear anything beyond her own annoyed grumbling. And a sudden rustling next to her.

A black blur struck out from the brush, snatching the yam before Nemuno could grab it and quickly dragging it away. As if taunting her, the boar piglet erupted into a series of frantic snorts. The mountain hag wailed in fury, lashing out around her in search of her hatchet. Finding it again, she gripped its handle and raised the blade high, intent on taking off in a frantic run. A single step proved enough to almost make her stumble. The weight of the boy under her arm was a hindrance. She was losing time with every second spent not running.

With a grunt of aggravation, she prised the boy’s fingers off of her long enough to shift him onto her back, securing his arms around her neck. If she’d had a clearer head at the moment, she might have left him there; she had no responsibility to him. Yet, instinct wouldn’t allow her to jettison him. Even in the back of her conscious mind, she thought that she might take him back to her sanctuary after flaying that thieving swine, unsure what else to do with a clearly lost human. There couldn’t be that much meat on it, but it would probably serve two.

---

From the beginning, Nemuno couldn’t take in any of what the Myouren Temple’s head priest meant to say. There was much said about ‘patronage’ and ‘families of import’, but none of it meant anything to her. After a point, the words became a distant blur and her attention wandered. She merely sat patiently, waiting for Byakuren to finish speaking, stealing glances at the sleeping human boy in the corner. As the pain in her head subsided, recollections of stumbling across the boy came to her.

She felt ridiculous sitting there now. Thieving was certainly hard to tolerate, but chasing a piglet, an unconscious human thrown across her back, running until she was well and truly removed from her home sanctuary, lacked the sort of down-to-earth sense that she prided herself on. Still, there was a tinge of anxiety for the boy’s part, considering she would have otherwise not literally tripped over him and carried him to the temple. What on earth was a young human even doing on the Mountain, anyway? How could he have possibly evaded notice by the tengu, who seemed to zero-in on her if she so much as took a single step outside of her usual territory? Considering he hadn’t been noticed…

Suddenly, Nemuno considered the boar piglet. The thing had taken a winding path as it fled, leading her off of the most straightforward animal trails. Whilst it could have been merely trying to evade her, it had never disappeared too far ahead of her in its flight. Then there was the matter of it alerting her with its squealing, at which point she stumbled over the boy. Not to mention, it hadn’t taken advantage of the confusion and disappeared, even coming back for the yam. If it belonged to this temple, had it been in fact trying to lead her here all along? Part of her found the thought absurd, and yet she had to admit that pigs of all sorts tended to be clever animals.

Byakuren had stopped talking and sat looking at Nemuno quizzically. Unsure what had been said, the mountain hag simply looked toward the still-sleeping boy.

“I don’t really get it,” Nemuno spoke up, calling to mind what little she’d heard, “but I get that he’s important to you guys somehow. If I hadn’t have found him, things might have been bad. That about right?”

“That is…” Byakuren gave a long pause, as if pondering how best to reiterate, but seemed to give up on the endeavour after long. “You could say that, I suppose. Most important is that he’s safe now. And, given all else, if you would be so kind, I’d like you to keep watch over him for tonight. Just to ensure he stays unharmed.”

“Why’s it gotta be me? ‘cause I’m here?” Nemuno brushed her fingers through her tangled hair, picking out bits of twigs and leaves.

“There is that point, yes. However, there’s also a bit of trouble on our part. You see, he’s familiar with us, owing to his family’s ties to our temple. Unfortunately, it isn’t the fond sort of familiarity.”

Nemuno couldn’t resist laughing. “Nobody trusts you, huh?”

When she looked back, she saw Byakuren looking somewhat dejected. “As much as it pains me to say, that seems to be the case. Even his family keeps cordial but measured relations with us.”

Uncomfortable with the head priest’s heavy expression, Nemuno got up to softly pad closer to the boy’s bedside, squatting down next to him. Now that she got a good look at him, she had to guess that he wasn’t quite a young child, though he certainly wasn’t grown yet. Maybe he was coming onto his teenaged years.

She sat down on the matted floor to lean over the boy, studying him closer. There was still that suppleness in the face that marked him with youth, the full cheeks, the soft lips, and the expression so full of vigour even asleep. He’d yet to be marked by life in all its harshness and turned into yet another brute. Even the little wounds that Nemuno could see seemed to be childish ones and only added to the vague sense of adoration she felt. He looked to her to be the sort of rambunctious lad who spent the day scampering about outside still.

Her fingers brushed his soft cheek, tracing a small scratch. His eyelids softly fluttered as he took in a sharp breath, slowly opening. Even having woken him, Nemuno couldn’t pull herself away. Even if he might be alarmed at her, she wanted to gaze at him. For the first time in a long while, fascination welled up in Nemuno’s heart. There were times small animals could capture her more nuturing instincts, but this was to a wholly different degree, nearly unsuppressable. This boy was deserving of her pity and her protection.

“Ah, is he waking up?” asked Byakuren quietly from beside her, having shifted nearer to the bed as well.

Nemuno nodded silently. As the boy stirred, she put a firm hand behind his neck, guiding him to sit upright. He rubbed his eyes, blinking and looking at the mountain hag blearily. At first, her presence didn’t seem to register. He gave a small yawn, finally looking at her more fully. His shiny black eyes scanned her up and down as if unsure what to make of her. There wasn’t fear in his eyes, though perhaps there was apprehension.

Sidling closer to Nemuno, Byakuren peeked around her to look at the boy. “Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure how soon you might wake up. How are you feeling, Kenji? Are you hurting anywhere? Do you know where you are?”

The sight of the head priest sharpened the apprehension in Kenji’s gaze. His breathing quickened and he tried scooting backwards in his bed, only stopped by Nemuno’s arresting hand.

His small mouth opened, his bottom lip quivering. He fixed Byakuren with a look mingling disdain and timidity. “Let me go. I don’t want to go home,” he mewled, his soft voice still slightly high and boyish yet starting to break with the onset of maturity.

“Forgive me, Kenji. I sympathise with your lot, but I cannot simply ignore your aunt and uncle’s worried pleas. All the worse that you nearly perished up on the Mountain. Why, if not for the kind soul here, that would have been all but certain. Please understand and don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”

“You brought me here?” Kenji asked Nemuno with a note of dismay. He indicated Byakuren with his eyes. “Did she ask you to do that? Are you one of these people too? You look like a youkai.”

Nemuno scratched her head awkwardly. “I ain’t human, if that’s what you mean. But I ain’t one of these people, either. I just tripped over you. Dunno why I picked you up, but I did. Ended up here chasing dinner.”

“I know you don’t trust us. All the same, we need you to stay the night until your uncle can come get you. If it makes it any better, Miss Nemuno here can keep you company. You won’t have to deal with any of us. Isn’t that right, Miss Nemuno?” Byakuren turned a pleading look to the mountain hag.

The same earlier jolt of irritation put Nemuno on the edge of refusing, yet the word ‘no’ couldn’t form itself on her lips. Looking between Kenji and Byakuren, she saw a situation that didn’t sit right with her. Even if it wasn’t the fairest deal, she felt somehow that she couldn’t just leave the boy alone. If he ran out on his own again…

She shook her head fiercely. Even if it wasn’t her problem, that didn’t mean she had to accept what happened.

“All right,” Nemuno concluded, scooting closer to Kenji, who didn’t resist her as she put an arm around his shoulder gently, “call this a trade: You feed the both of us and show us home; I’ll make sure he doesn’t run off tonight. That good with you?”

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll keep them off you, okay? I don’t like them any more’n you. All right?” she muttered in his ear. The boy stared at her blankly.

“So you’ve come around!” chirruped Byakuren, clapping her hands together loud enough to make both Nemuno and Kenji jump. Looking slightly embarrassed, she gave a little bow. “Pardon me. It’s just that I’m so pleased. I’ll let one of my disciples know to get the kitchen ready.”

She stood up hurriedly, gesturing for Nemuno to do the same. Nemuno stood up as well and helped the reluctant Kenji to his feet. They were whisked from the corner room, through several other rooms, and out of the building, to a covered pathway that communicated with another building, carrying on past a wide, rocky garden. Noise from the crowds was thankfully muted by the many trees planted about, as well as a number of rock formations hemming the temple landscape in. Looking around, Nemuno couldn’t spot the Mountain at any distance, though she wasn’t sure she would be able to identify it even if it were visible. Like her, the temple seemed fairly isolated.

The idea that a place like this might be a lonely one scratched on a bit of Nemuno’s sensibilities. If there were few people around otherwise, she could make sense of the head priest’s eagerness to keep others around. In that sense, she could even sympathise to an extent. Even now, Byakuren was chattering about this building and that, clearly eager to play host, given over to an energy that was recognisable. Though Nemuno was often short on words, having someone around could make for a welcome change. She found herself thawing a little, the distrust she was quick to feel around others slowly receding.

There was still the matter of Kenji and his clear timidity around anyone. He kept a plodding pace, a gentle nudge required from Byakuren to stay alongside. His gaze was trained squarely at his feet to totally avoid his minders. To Nemuno, he appeared lacking in vitality, a shame for any boy his age. His shoulders also sloped deeply, the line of his young back almost feminine looking. His circumstances, whatever they might be, were clearly putting an unfair weight on him. She tried putting an assuring hand on his shoulder but got no response from him. He was drawn deep into himself with no hint as to how she might draw him back out.

“In any case,” Byakuren concluded her long-winded explanation of things Nemuno had paid no attention, “as getting things ready will take time, and the dirt and sweat of your journey must be uncomfortable by now, shall we start off with a bath? These facilities are yours for the moment, of course, so you’ll not be disturbed by anyone.”

Kenji turned ever so slightly to regard Nemuno for once with a sideward glance. She stared back at him uncomprehendingly. He quickly looked away again, even more resolutely focused on the ground.

Byakuren tittered. “Oh my. It appears he’s a bit shy. That is rather natural for his age. Still, you can make sure he gets clean, can’t you? I don’t suppose you would do anything too untoward?”

“Ah,” said Nemuno, finally grasping the situation. Twisting her hair around one finger, she nodded. “It’s just a bath, right? Ain’t nothing hard about that. Plus, I guess I gotta.”

“I would hope you can also enjoy yourself in our baths. As an additional token of our appreciation.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The mountain hag did have to admit that anything more than a rudimentary bath with lukewarm water was a rare luxury, wanting to be economical with her precious firewood. Judging from the steam rising from the nearby building, there was plenty of hot water to be had. And she was feeling sticky and grimy, now that she took the time to notice.

Every time Nemuno saw a proper bathhouse she both marvelled at the construction and also felt a certain dismay at the wastefulness of it. The Myouren Temple’s baths meant to convey a sense of austerity with the rough, unfinished woods making up the majority. Yet, at the same time, much of the floor of the bath itself looked to be stone, made to look natural and yet clearly not of its surrounding land. There was also the sheer amount of space inside: a wide-open space for changing and lounging leading through a narrow doorway into the bath proper, at which point everything opened back up. Little else was visible through steam rising like Mountain mist.

After several assurances from Nemuno that she knew how to use a bath properly, Byakuren left her and Kenji with a bow and instructions to wait around the bathhouse, both hardly acknowledged by the mountain hag, who was growing impatient for the bath.

They’d been left alone for hardly more than seconds before Nemuno began undoing her dress, pausing to tut in dismay at the tears showing in the fabric. She stood fully and effortlessly disrobed before noting that Kenji had yet to begin undressing, standing stock-still with his back to her. Rolling her eyes, she looped her arms around him from behind.

“Come on.” She gave an insistent tug on his belt. He softly yelped in alarm but only laid a small hand on hers. Although she understood his boyish hesitancy, she had little patience left. “Just close your eyes if it helps. Don’t make a bit of difference to me. It’s just a bath,” she coaxed.

“I stopped taking a bath with my mum years ago,” Kenji groused, at length moving to handle undressing himself.

“Good thing I ain’t your momma, then.”

He half-turned from folding his clothes before abruptly righting himself. His voice fell to a low murmur, what he probably thought made for a show of masculine aggrievance but came out as pouting. “That makes it worse.”

Nemuno only answered with a little laugh, nudging the now totally bare Kenji towards the banks of steam clouds.

As they entered, the apparent tension in his small shoulders vanished all at once. The mountain hag quickly understood from looking around her. For all her scorn for the excesses of civilisation, the bath was a breathtaking sight: a panorama of mountain valleys rendered in fine detail on a mural spanning every wall in the room, lending the convincing effect of being outdoors in the bath. To see it lent an exhiliration of rapturous freedom. If only, Nemuno found herself wishing, she had a bath of her own, with a view like this looking down from the Mountain. Bathing surrounded by cedar trees might have been the closest thing to paradise someone like her could fathom being.

Kenji found his way immediately to a stool and began to slowly, thoroughly wash himself. Focused on that key task, his earlier bashfulness seemed forgotten for the moment. Satisfied with that, Nemuno settled herself onto a neighbouring stool, marvelling at how many people could possibly fit side-by-side as she set to washing off the layers of sweat and dirt. Scents of wood filled her nose as Nemuno used the provided soap. Most of what she could get hold of through trade rarely held more than the faintest trace of flowers in its fragrance, and she soon pondered what she could possibly do in return for the bar in her hand now. By the looks of it, there was little the temple, and thereby Byakuren, wanted for. Despite that, she felt a mountain yam of the sort that had brought her there might be a fair enough value. If only they weren’t using that one for dinner, she silently opined. Shaking her head at her strange fits of envy, she rinsed herself and looked over to see how Kenji was coming along.

He looked to have finished up what he could reach himself. Leaning over, Nemuno plucked the cloth from his hand and began soaping up his back, to his mild protest. Initially making her job difficult and requiring a firm warning tap on the shoulder, his squirming gradually calmed until he was sitting still, unresistant to Nemuno’s attention. One hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, one side after the other, as she tried to be thorough with her lathering. By the time she had finished, Kenji appeared to be totally absent of tension. Even a rinse with lukewarm water only prompted a soft hum of acknowledgement.

Nemuno patted his back and tugged him halfway to his feet. “All right, up you get. Into the tub,” she commanded gently.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m coming,” Kenji said, sounding far away. Standing with his towel drawn close to him, he padded along with the mountain hag to the tub. He stood at the edge hesitantly looking in.

“What’s the matter?” she asked over her shoulder, sinking in up to her waist in seconds. Her youkai constitution made the roiling waters little more than a soft tingle on her hide. “It’s not so bad if you just get in.”

“But…”

With a put-upon sigh, Nemuno stood back up, hoisted Kenji up by his underarms, and dangled him above the water, heedless of his kicking legs. “Ready now? On three. One. Two.”

At three, she plunged him all at once into the hot bath. He gave a sharp cry at the heat of the water and flailed his arms, slipping from Nemuno’s grasp and sinking up to his neck all at once. A few seconds of splashing around was all it took before he looked less uncomfortable in the water, even reclining against the side of the bath once he’d calmed himself.

“See?”

“You don’t have to be so rough,” he burbled half into the water, looking pointedly away from the mountain hag.

Nemuno shrugged as she gathered her hair to tie it up. It had been so long since she’d had a proper bath that she’d forgotten how annoying getting her hair wet could be. “Well, you gotta get used to it at some point. You had baths before, right? Strange you’d still be so wimpy.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Why not? You can’t help anything right now any more’n I can.”

Kenji seemed to quietly ponder her statement. After some moments, he shook his head. “You’re weird. Even for a youkai.”

“Heard that one a bunch. Don’t make a bit of difference to me. I’m just Nemuno. Ain’t anyone else I can be.” Her hair successfully tied into a bun, she sank back into the bath with a satisfied sigh. “Anyway, don’t think about it too much, kid. We’re both just making the best of it.”

“Yeah, well, you probably have a home you want to go back to. I don’t.” He fell back against the side of the bath, staring down into the depths of the water.

“What about your momma and poppa? Bet they miss you. ‘specially after taking off up the Mountain.”

Kenji momentarily looked up at Nemuno with a strange intensity in his eyes, but the look subsided quickly and he remained quiet for a while. As she considered asking him what the matter was, he spoke up again softly. “They’re not here anymore. Mum got sick last year and died. Dad went soon after. My uncle and aunt moved in and took over the house. They don’t care about me. They fired all the old servants, too. The new ones just do what they say and don’t care about me, either. They all just want me to be quiet and stay in my room.”

“So, what was running up the Mountain gonna solve there?” Nemuno asked bluntly.

“I…” He hesitated, tripped up by the question posed. “I wasn’t thinking about that. All I wanted was to get away. That’s why I left the village. I thought being kidnapped by youkai would be better. If they ate me, well, whatever.”

Hearing that, Nemuno leaned over to give the boy a hard thump on the forehead with her finger. She fished his hand out from under the water, holding it uncomfortably tight with her youkai strength. “Listen here. Don’t you be saying that again, you hear? Your momma’ll be crying from the other side. I may not know much, but I know a momma don’t wanna see her baby hurt. You’re still just a youngin’, so you got a long ways ahead of you. Don’t waste that, all right?”

Grimacing at how tightly his hand was being gripped, Kenji only nodded grimly. Satisfied that she’d got her point across, Nemuno let go of him, settling back into the bath.

Most of their time in the bath passed quietly. Kenji sat looking up at the murals surrounding them, as if meditating on them. Nemuno spent her time either leaning back, simply enjoying her rare chance to soak in hot water, or watching the boy from across the bath. On occasion, she remembered her own inability to move about freely and felt a rising sense of resentment, but she tried her best to tame that feeling. She was doing as asked — because, she reminded herself, she felt like it — and could do no more. Whatever happened after would happen as it might.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t totally put out of mind the idea of a boy being unhappy enough at home to brave the wilderness on his own. She couldn’t blame him, of course, having no momma or poppa to rely on now. Despite all that, she could see that he did have some vitality in him. He wasn’t content to just do as he was told, kind of like herself. She cracked a smile in spite of herself.

“Hey, kid,” she called to Kenji with a soft chuckle.

He didn’t look away from the mural above her. “Yes?”

“Even if you done something dumb, I’ll admit you’re braver’n I’d have reckoned. Takes some guts to run off and tackle the Mountain. ‘specially for a boy as soft and scrawny as you.” She pinched his arm, finding that he was indeed quite soft.

Rubbing his arm, he looked Nemuno’s way at last with indignation. “I read some books about hiking in the mountains and in the forests. I could have made it all right. I just forgot my pack with my food and water when I left. There wasn’t another chance, so I had to get out in a hurry.”

“And where’d you have got? Ain’t anywhere real safe for you. ‘less maybe one-a them tengu takes an interest in you.” Nemuno snorted. “There’s a real pain, though. Ain’t that much safer, either.”

“If you’re such an expert on the Mountain,” Kenji huffed, leaning back against the side of the bath with his arms crossed, “where is safe, then?”

The retort unbalanced Nemuno for a split second. Indeed, where was safe? Frankly, as she saw it, the Mountain was a brutish place that quickly engulfed the weak and unprepared and never allowed them the light of day again. Those tengu had long since abused their numbers, ganging up to make up for their individual weaknesses, though they were also prone to division in their ranks. The result was endless struggles projected onto others on the Mountain, attempts to control anyone who so much as tread on any of the trails. Many accepted this hegemony of culture and force with bowed head, unable to effect any sort of change otherwise. Others, such as the mountain hag and her sisters, carved out what little breathing room they could for themselves.

That was the ultimate meaning of sanctuary to Nemuno.

“Dunno, kid,” she concluded, unable to hold in a heavy sigh. “It’s a tricky question. All I know’s my own little sanctuary. Had to fight for it, you best believe. But it’s pretty safe. I don’t let nobody in if I can help it.”

“That sounds… lonely.” Kenji’s expression looked similarly heavy.

She swirled her hand around in the water, idly stirring it into a miniature whirlpool. “Beats being under everyone’s thumb. Maybe gets a bit lonely, yeah. Can’t be helped, I think. That’s just how the Mountain is. If you can’t go it alone, someone’s got you penned up.”

Resting his head on his shoulder, Kenji also fell into flicking his hand through the water, watching the miniscule waves he was able to make. His earlier struggle with the temperature seemed totally forgotten. Yet, he was no more relaxed than Nemuno.

“It’s lonely in the village, too,” he murmured.

Nemuno looked down at the weak little waves breaking against her. Despite her convictions, his words did make her feel a pang of the earlier pity she’d felt. Had she any capacity to conceive of something as grand as fate, she might have cursed it in that moment.

She abruptly rose from the bath and strode towards the changing area, still sopping wet. Expecting too much from the bath was one among many failures on her part today.

---

Evening had already descended by the time Nemuno and Kenji, recently bathed and clothed, sat about the temple bathhouse as directed. They waited in silence, neither sure what to say to the other, reluctant to try punching through the heaviness surrounding them. Even Byakuren, otherwise ever smiling, clearly felt the weight of the atmosphere when she appeared, taking a moment to find the words to address them.

They were soon led through dim lantern-light back across the temple grounds. With the dying of the cicadas, the night air had grown calmer and cooler. Absent, too, were all but a straggling few fireflies, not long for the world much longer. Autumn was setting in. Reminded of the shifting seasons, Nemuno wondered if the leaves on the Mountain were already starting to change colour. Already lush in its overflowing nature, her sanctuary would grow even more beautiful with the coming reds and yellows.

She looked at Byakuren and Kenji in turn. It wouldn’t be so long before she could find her way home, and then this whole episode would be a fading memory. Neither of the two walking with her would remain in her mind, she felt sure. Everything would be back to normal, and she would simply return to her everyday, keeping to herself in her sanctuary, doing what was most necessary to survive and enjoying what few pleasures could be afforded her. Nothing outside of that needed to matter. Others weren’t her business.

The meal served passed by in a similarly soon-forgotten fashion. Nemuno had every impression that it was a good meal. After all, they used the mountain yam that she had cultivated with her own care and labour. Disappointingly, after the chase that had seen her there, none of the dishes served contained a trace of meat, much less the boar she had been longing for.

For the most part, Nemuno and Kenji were left alone throughout dinner. Byakuren had reappeared to play host and beg their pardon for the meagreness of the food before swiftly leaving once more, to Kenji’s visible relief. Neither said a word to the other the whole time. When his bowl of barley rice was close to empty, Nemuno took it upon herself to fill it back up, a kindness he accepted with a nod, his eyes averted. Though neither spoke, there was no feeling of tension in the room as in the bathhouse. There was simply no need to speak now. This was the atmosphere Nemuno had long been accustomed to. Not even the pensive distance in Kenji’s gaze as he ate was of concern.

The two were soon sated and drowsy from the long bath and meal. Nemuno was considering lying down in the room where they dined when a girl, clearly a youkai, with green hair and fluffy ears poked her head in to inform them that Byakuren was busy at present, and that she would be the one to guide them to their room. The girl, a mountain-echo or so she claimed to be, prattled on cheerfully about the temple fair going on, how she wished she could take part, what she would do, and other sundry trvialities as she led them up a narrow staircase, heedless of her captive audience’s unresponsiveness. In particular, Kenji seemed less than eager to engage her, almost hiding behind Nemuno. When they reached the indicated room, Nemuno brusquely dismissed the mountain-echo with a sharp wave, and the girl happily skipped off, presumably to join the festivities.

In the room, two futons were already laid out side-by-side. The room itself looked to be big enough to fit more than just Nemuno and Kenji. The mountain hag supposed that it might be where Byakuren and her ‘disciples’ slept normally. What little sympathy she had for them was stirred by the idea that they were probably doing without rest for the fair. Besides that, she couldn’t fathom however many of them all sleeping piled together in this room. Trying to imagine the scene made it difficult to breathe.

Kenji had already slipped into his bedding and was lying with his eyes closed. Feeling overcome at once by the day’s fatigue, Nemuno decided that sparing any more thought to the temple, its residents, or much else was pointless. Yawning loudly, she crawled under the heavy bedclothes, curling up on her side. She lay looking over at the dozing Kenji, once more struck by how childlike his expression was when he slept. She thought of stroking his cheeks again but couldn’t fight against the heaviness seeping into her body. No longer able to think clearly, she allowed her attention to simply wander.

The sounds of the fair carried in from somewhere far off, lights from distant lanterns casting shadows of trees, people, and all manner of things over the room, muddling together into a blur of unseen-but-felt activity. Somewhere outside, closer than the laughter and chatter, nocturnal animals flitted about. An owl’s hooting resonated into the darkness. Faint scratching and chittering of mice carried through from underneath the floor.

Despite lying calmly and breathing deeply, Nemuno hadn’t yet fallen asleep. The longer she remained awake in spite of her heavy eyelids, the more she was bothered by the fact. She knew that the sun would eventually come out, and then she would be shown the way home, yet it felt as if that dawn might never come. The night was dragging on, heedless of her weariness. All she had to do was close her eyes and wait, but even that felt insurmountable. In fact, she felt a deep-seated resistance to the idea. The thought that the sun was creeping higher as she lay there gnawed at her ceaselessly; she would need to get up, then be guided towards the Mountain, then up the Mountain, past this settlement or that checkpoint, through this pass, over that gorge — a long journey to reach her sanctuary. And there was everything left undone: the firewood, the washing, repairing her clothes, tending her unpilfered plants, and so on. Her life had been stopped in-progress, left to fall into disorder of the sort she disliked. Why had she come all this way?

Nemuno half-sat up in her futon. For some strange reason, the notion had suddenly occurred to her that Kenji might have vanished from the neighbouring futon. However, he was still lying in the same place, albeit turned on his side, facing her now. Seeing his sleeping face, her racing mind slowed to a mere gallop. Embarrassment burned her cheeks realising the growing resentment she felt toward herself for running down the mountain, these temple people for trapping her here, and Kenji’s parents for leaving their son to face life unhappily. All of these things fell outside of a mountain hag’s life of solitude. In spite of that, this rush of conflicting emotions had overtaken her, not content to be simply discarded.

This was the problem with civilisation. This was the problem with leaving her sanctuary.

“Miss?” came Kenji’s soft voice in the gloom.

Hearing the boy speak up, Nemuno took a deep breath and tried to quiet the torrent of her own mind and heart. She lay her head back down on the pillow, looking across at Kenji, whose eyes were half-open. “Nemuno,” she answered with feigned gruffness.

“Huh?”

“It’s Nemuno, not ‘Miss’. We’ve seen each other naked, so there ain’t any sense being all stiff.”

Kenji’s eyes opened all the way and he frowned at her. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Just messing. Don’t take it so serious, kid.” She chuckled, all at once feeling less burdened. It was these kinds of moments that made her forget herself. “Anyway, what d’you want? It’s awful late. Kid like you ought to be snoring.”

“It’s about what you said earlier. I can’t stop thinking about it. You know, when you talked about where it’s safest on the Mountain? You brought up your place you call your ‘sanctuary’.”

“Ah, that. Guess I did, yeah.” Despite trying to sound nonchalant, Nemuno felt her heart beat faster.

“Well, so… I mean, look, I know what you said. I know what you meant. You were telling me to stay off the Mountain so I wouldn’t get hurt. I get that. I do get it.”

“But?” the mountain hag preempted.

He levelled a serious look at her. She found his expression hard to read, but she also felt that she somehow understood something about the depths of his black eyes. He was hesitantly reaching out to her with his gaze. “Nemuno.”

There was a long pause before she answered. “Yes?”

“I hate it at home. Sometimes it’s just too much to stand. When I think about it all, I can’t forgive anyone. I want to be anywhere but there. I want to be free. So…” His voice broke. Even in the darkness, Nemuno could see tears welling in his eyes. She could see clearly that he truly was still just a child.

Reaching over, she lifted the bedclothes and pulled his hand out from underneath, holding onto it firmly. She prised his fingers open with little resistance, then rearranged them so that his little finger was sticking out. Finally, Nemuno touched her own little finger to his.

“I’m only gonna explain this once, so listen well, kid,” she said, her voice fallen to nearly a whisper, trying to steady her voice and fight back the tears that might fall.

Nemuno struggled to convey where her sanctuary was in relation to anything else. All she knew for sure was that it was on the Mountain and that it was away from the tengu settlements. She tried to recall the most gentle animal trails leading there, the bends in streams and the large trees, stones, and falls that marked them. Thinking of how far she had strayed from all of those things, she suddenly felt an intense warmth toward Kenji. Despite his own fearfulness, the timid boy had gone so far from what was supposed to be home. How could a child have such strength?

Should he ever show up at the edges of her sanctuary, she would immediately know. She would be ready to go to him, no matter when or what circumstance. Of that she was willing to swear, both to herself and to him.

She curled her little finger around his. “You get that?”

Kenji nodded, sniffling. The tears that had rolled down his cheeks had ceased, though his eyes were still dewy. He returned the mountain hag’s gesture.

“Good. Now, go to sleep. We both got places to be soon.”

Morning had come. Gently roused from her sleep, Nemuno had blearily strolled along, led by a mysteriously animated Byakuren, hardly able to comprehend whatever she was babbling about. Rather than coming to a Mountain trail leading homeward, they descended a stone staircase. A group of humans was waiting at the bottom, standing alongside a pair of carts. Two of the humans, an older man and woman in fancier clothes than the rest, watched Nemuno and Byakuren approaching with clear anxiety in their faces.

Byakuren introduced the couple as Kenji’s aunt and uncle and was quick to point out to them that Nemuno was the one who had brought the boy back. Both of them bowed deeply to the mountain hag, offering profuse words of thanks that she only just understood. Unimpressed by such gesturing, Nemuno simply asked Byakuren for her hatchet and to be shown the way back. The old couple protested that they needed to express their thanks, insisting that Nemuno should be detained for only a few minutes more. Reluctantly, she agreed to hear out whatever else they might say.

Amid unending meaningless blather, they had a pair of servants produce a small box, opening it to show that it was full of coins. Byakuren explained quietly to the still-unimpressed mountain hag that there was probably enough money in the box to buy whatever she needed for a while. However, Nemuno wouldn’t accept the money, insisting she had no need for it and pointing to Byakuren, saying that they might as well give it to her instead. Looking affronted, the old man demanded to know the meaning of her refusal. She shrugged and responded that she traded for everything she ever received and had no intention of changing that. Frowning, Byakuren begged her to reconsider, but Nemuno remained firm in her conviction. The humans, troubled, conferred among themselves on how to handle the situation.

Looking over their carts, Nemuno saw that the humans were hauling what looked to be the carcass of a recently killed boar. She interrupted their discussion to ask about it and heard that the boar was from a hunt carried out earlier that morning, the old man still fond of such sport even in his age. As they had intended to come to the temple, having been informed late in the night of Kenji’s return, they had simply hauled along the kill after the hunt. She bluntly asked if she could take the boar instead of the money. After a bit more discussion, some of which included Byakuren, the humans agreed, albeit reluctantly in the old man’s case, to let Nemuno take the boar. The money would become a donation to the temple.

Their meeting concluded with Byakuren summoning the hooded girl to show the old couple to Kenji. As they proceeded away solemnly, Byakuren took Nemuno’s hands, thanking her for her kindness in much the same effusive way as the humans. Nemuno’s response was to simply repeat her request for her hatchet and guidance home. Seeing that the mountain hag’s reception wasn’t likely to change, the head priest simply obliged her wish, getting another of her disciples to swiftly fetch the hatchet from storage. She paused to allow Nemuno to retrieve the boar carcass from the humans’ cart before conducting her to a path in the rear of the shrine. Her hatchet returned and her prized boar slung over her shoulder, Nemuno happily followed.

As she began the journey home, Nemuno looked back down the path at the head priest waving her off. Civilisation was a strange and troublesome place to be, she still felt strongly. At the same time, the feeling of escape filled her with a certain exhiliration. Every step she took up the beginning of the trail had more vigour than when she had come down.

Her sanctuary was waiting. Once she got there, she herself would be waiting.

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. "People can change, but I didn't expect it to happen so suddenly and to so many."

A baby's cry pierces the serene silence and grabs the yama's attention. She couldn't believe her eyes. The site is nothing odd, just a mother rocking her baby while the father makes silly faces to appease the little one. What is wrong, however, is that Eiki sees the baby as a good person who deserves to go to heaven.

"That can't be right!" She stares at the family. "That baby is way too young to have consciously done a good deed!"

As she declares this, her senses finally adjust to her surroundings. Black ivory chains protrude from the family's chest and rest beneath their feet. The rattling sound that a moving chain makes now dominates the silence. Eiki turns to see more villagers unbothered by the metal embedded in them. One of their legs goes through a chain without tripping. Eiki moves her hand to her chest and feels the weightless link that connects from over her heart to who knows where. She grabs the chain and begins to pull.

The humans around her stare at her in confusion and slight concern. The Yama, who will one day judge their soul, is pulling on nothing but air with a serious expression. Some children mimic action as if they could see the chains despite it going through their hands. A pile of chains forms beside her feet, but the end is in sight. The remaining chains begin to lift into the air allowing her to follow it without getting confused from the chains of others littering the ground.

Following the ivory metal line, Eiki finds herself in front of a miniature shrine called a hokora. Despite its rotten state, it's filled to the brim with offerings! Money, grains, and toys stack upon each other some lying on the ground due to lack of space. At the center of all this love is an egg or at least the shape of one. Black as the chains shackled to everyone's hearts and of pure evil. The egg had also placed chains around the hokara to prevent it from being moved. She kneels to get a closer look and notices silver-line cracks on the side of the egg.

It's a pitch-black void made of evil deeds, ready to crack open at any moment. A saint could raise this being, and it would not matter. It will default to its nature. It must be evil, or else it goes to hell for not fulfilling its duty. If it were a yokai, this would be nothing to note, and Eiki would have put it back where she found it and moved along. Unfortunately, this being is not a yokai but a god. A god of evil that needs worshiping and cannot attack people without reason.

"Few would envy your position, newborn," Eiki says. "Are you perhaps unsure how to fulfill your duty?"

Chains with small hooks at the end unravel from the egg and latch them onto her bare shoulders. Thoughts that weren't Eiki's form in her head. A soft chuckle escapes the yama's lips.

"I didn't expect a god to be this shy." She says.

Immediate retribution follows as another chain lashes out and smacks Eiki right on the nose!

"Disrespecting a god?" A young voice echoes in her head. "Punishment: Pain."

"Apologies, please forgive my rudeness." She rubs her nose. "In hindsight, I should have been more thoughtful that you would take my teasing to heart."

"You are here." The egg says. "Reason: Unknown."

"I went out for a walk and noticed these chains," Eiki says. "I followed mine, and it took me to you."

"Never seen you." The egg states. "Species: Unknown."

"A yama I am, but formerly a jizou statue first," Eiki says. "I became one after the child I looked after completed her stone tower."

"Why remain?" The egg corrects. "Mission: Completed. Wisdom: Lacking?"

"I won't deny the possibility." Eiki admits, "I certainly knew less when I was only a jizou, so I don't regret staying."

The egg didn't respond. Is it waiting for Eiki's questions?

"What about you?" The yama asks, gesturing to all the offerings. "What kind of god are you to receive this warm reception?"

"Evil." The egg answers. "Duty: To drag the chain of others to Hell."

Then it clicks in the yama's head.

"These chains are made of everyone's bad deeds?" Eiki asks.

"Assumption: Correct." The egg says. "Not guaranteed for Heaven."

"I can't say I'm shocked that they can still go to Hell," Eiki says. "All you're doing is shortening their sentence if they fail to improve. And that's also ignoring that the Ministry of Right and Wrong would never allow scapegoating."

"Irrelevant." The egg asks. "The people desired me: I came."

"Is that what you desire?" Eiki answers. "A life where you only see evil?"

"Everything: Evil." The egg states. "These offerings: Evil that I'm unaware of."

"A bad deed that the god of evil doesn't know?" Eiki asks. "How can that be possible?"

"...Unknown," The God Of Evil says, "It must be evil. Everything: Evil"

"I could help you understand this mysterious bad deed if you come with me." Eiki offers, "I can show you other bad deeds you may not be aware of."

"Why assist?" The egg asks.

"I wish for all children to never end up in hell," Eiki says. "That includes you as well."

"For a single child." The egg points a chain at her. "You completed that duty. Yama judges others. Nothing more."

"That's true, but-" Sets of chains burst out of the egg and wrapped around Eiki's arms. "W-What are you doing!?"

Her arms lock together, hands forced to a cupping gesture. The egg unwraps the chains attached to the hokora shrine and lifts itself into Eiki's forced-to-wait hands.

"Moving." The egg states. "You are a part of the Ministry of Right and Wrong. A yama. You will do your duty, and so will I."

"And if I say no?" Eiki asks.

"You have no reason to." The egg shoots back.

"I refuse," Eiki states.

"Elaborate!" The chains squeeze her arms tighter.

"I judge the dead, you fool." She says, "But you already knew that. It's why you're doing this!"

The chains wrapped around her legs move, forcing her to move as well. Eiki recognized that if she continued straight from where she was facing they'd be heading to Higan.

"You cared enough to ask why I continued after I finished my duty as a jizou!" Eiki states. "If the only thing you had in mind was to complete yours, you would not have asked and done this sooner!"

A chain shoots around her head and gags her. Eiki understands what evil looks like and what it tastes like as well. She clamps her jaws as the chain lets out a painful creaking. It bends and cracks until breaks into pieces.

"Impudent child!" She spits out. "If I must move, you must listen!"

"Nothing you say will change anything." The egg continues pulling the chains.

"Oh, I'm sure that's why you tried to silence me." Eiki rolls her eyes. "Why else you didn't want me to speak?

The egg says nothing.

"You hate this role given to you, don't you?" The yama asks. "Once you realize that you can do more after you finish your 'duty', you jump at the first opportunity to get it over with."

"Irrelevant! Objective Status: Ongoing!" The egg cries. "Evil they all are, I must answer their call. My feelings: Irrelevant!"

"No! They must answer to your call!" Eiki shouts.

They stop moving; the chains around the yama go limp but still bind to her.

"I don't understand." The egg says.

Eiki sighs, "You're a god. Yes, you must give something in return if you want to continue being prayed to, but!" She looks down at the being that fits in her palm. "You're also a god of evil. You have no desire to help people."

"Statement: True." The egg says, "Worship: Required. Solutions: One."

"There's still those evil deeds you're not aware of. Isn't that strange to you?" Eiki asks. "You're supposed to embody all the evils in the world, but there are some you don't know of."

"Reason: Unknown." It states.

"Maybe you're a specific type of evil." The yama suggests. "There's plenty of gods with a niche duty, but they're still prayed for."

"Query: By taking this chance you are giving to me, and learn of evils I know not." The egg says. "I will be a step closer to finding my true calling?"

Eiki smiles, "I believe so."

A tense silence fills the air, the chains didn't tighten, but they didn't loosen any further.

"Answer..." The egg deliberates.

The silver cracks grew wider until a part of the egg broke open. Sunlight peers through the small hole, but the darkness proves dense as the only thing Eiki can see is an eye. It's blue like hers. Then the yama hears a voice that isn't going through the chain to her heart. The voice of a little girl reaches her ears.

"Answer:" The god of evil repeats. "Sufficient."

All of the chains connecting to Eiki are pulled back in by the egg. The last chain attached to her chest returns to her, however, the rest of them are dragged across the ground no doubt returning to where they once were.

"Very well," Eiki says, starting her walk back to Higan. "My name is Shiki Eiki; I hope we can get along."

"We'll see to that." The god of evil says before ducking back into the darkness inside the egg.

“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 happened to have worked out that way. Nominally, her duties ought to be centered around instructing Yuyuko’s in swordsmanship and being the groundskeeper (a fancier term Youmu prefers to the actual “gardener”) to the large estate located in the netherworld, a land of eternal spring where both ghosts and phantoms can be found idling their un-life away. In practice, Youmu cooks, cleans, does whatever (most often menial) job Yuyuko sees fit to delegate to her. It is not the fairest of arrangements but neither party really wishes for things to be significantly different. Someone has to keep things running smoothly in the netherworld. That both feel that they do most of the work is something that neither has ever said aloud.

“Youmu, don’t you think that we should change things up every now and again?” though she knew that a more direct command would be better, Yuyuko styles herself an optimist and hoped that Youmu would figure out what it is that she meant. She added, mixing her own desire with the lesson she now thought she may as well impart freely (read: selfishly), “It’s been forever since we’ve had any salmon, don’t you agree?”

“… Have we ever had any salmon, Lady Yuyuko?” Youmu asked—pretty foolishly—thinking more of the inland mountainous geography of Gensokyo than what her mistress was getting at.

It was rare that she would openly resist Yuyuko’s otherworldly, and often befuddling, logic. It caused Yuyuko to sharpen her brown eyes, disrupting the emanation of dim moonlight from her face. She retorted with much less patience, in a tone that made the willful servant to shrink back, reflexively holding onto the edges of the pillow where she sat, “Salmon, eel, trout, bonito, it doesn’t matter! It’s always pickled this or that, that’s the important bit. You need to keep up. We’re not taking advantage of all that Gensokyo has to offer and it’s a shame. The only way you’ll develop your skills and become a well-rounded person is by being familiar with all sorts of ingredients.”

Youmu wasn’t sure that that was how things work. But she didn’t dare contradict her mistress. Lady Yuyuko had a way with words that she didn’t. Her mistress encouraged her to think for herself but, more often than not, criticized her whenever she did. That had an effect of making her insecure, causing to second-third-and-even-fourth-guess herself. And whenever that happened, she could barely make heads or tails of things. She recalled previous occasions when that confusion got her into trouble—being buried in snow was an unpleasant experience and going out of her way to resolve an incident that didn’t matter at all was little better. There was a tenuous thread between all these things in her mind and she preferred to act instead of understanding. She figured that she could simply nod through whatever else Lady Yuyuko was saying about experience and then get moving.

---

Impeccably dressed, with fluttering skirt and black ribbons atop a hairband, Youmu rushed forward with purpose. A purpose that would remain, truthfully, unclear to her. Her mistress preferred to stay home, and was left alone in the large manor with a plentiful stockpile of snacks (or, as alone as one can hope to be when phantoms freely move about the area). So she’s trying to be decisive and, maybe, incisive and a bunch of other good words ending in -sive but, above all else, impulsive. Overthinking about things was never her style—there’s only two places in Gensokyo where you can get fresh fish and the mention of trout was a clue, she reckoned.

Soon the deep forest that begins the foot of the youkai mountain surrounded her. She gripped at the hilt of her long sword—one could never be too careful, after all—as she barreled towards higher ground. There is a ropeway, which allows regular humans to get comfortably transported up to a mountain shrine, but Youmu had forgotten about that convenient fact. Hot-blooded drive often makes her forget a lot of convenient facts. Not that her blood can ever be that hot-blooded, given that she’s half-human and half-phantom and usually delightfully cool in the summer as a result. The people that she knows tend to rudely embrace her accompanying phantom half, a floating ball of semi-opaque white that remains at her side at all times, without asking in order to beat the heat. Detailing those occurrences is best left for another time and another story. Youmu had more immediate concerns and troubles.

And Youmu was troubled. Her mad dash through the woods had been abruptly stopped and she came to a sudden full stop. The culprit? A slightly-moldy, well-worn, and decades-old glossy magazine lying atop a tree trunk by the side of the path. It’s the sort of thing that would have given many a youth a heart-thumping and liberating surprise in the outside world. It’s also the sort of thing that doesn’t happen anymore and, though Youmu couldn’t possibly know it, has long since passed off into the realm of nostalgic fantasy; its presence in Gensokyo ought to be a matter of course.

It was an object so clearly out of place, that anyone would have stopped to have a closer look. At least that’s the excuse she gave herself; Lady Yuyuko might chide her for taking too long but she delegated that concern to a future version of herself. She squinted and pursed her lips as she focused on the faded text. It was fairly pointless for her to try—not only was the magazine sun-bleached and water-damaged but whatever had survived of its scant text was in a foreign language, anyhow. So all that Youmou could make out from the weather-degraded cover was the figure of a woman wearing a cheeky grin and not much else.

Her curiosity would remain unsatisfied. Though she picked up the magazine, her fingers were unable to get past the stuck-together cover and first page.

“What are you doing here?!” a sharp voice surprised Youmu; she dropped the magazine and caused it to fall somewhere into the brush. A tengu patrol had caught her trespassing. The tengu—it should be noted—are a very territorial lot and think themselves lords of the mountain. The gods, kappa, yamawaro, yamanba, and other inhabitants of the mountain would disagree with that but they mostly humored the hopelessly self-important tengu. Signing pointless treaties, playing dumb about territory, and making the occasional display of lip service was enough to keep tengu appeased.

Visitors to the mountain generally assumed that they would get accosted by tengu at some point. The two most efficient ways of dealing with them were either offering a decent bribe (the crow tengu in particular were amenable to them) or to use enough force to scare them off; fine choices both.

Youmu, in her haste, had forgotten about them entirely. Still, it was a pleasant surprise. It gave her the opportunity to make one of those split-second decisions that required little in the way of thinking. Spelling it out, because she was bored and unsure of what was going on, she opted to deal with tengu by using force. She drew her long blade and placed her hand on the grip of the short one with a smooth, practiced motion. It would be understandable, though nonetheless untrue, to think that her aggression is the result of unspoken frustration; her mistress’ inscrutable ways would be enough to set anyone on edge; Youmu was simply acting like many others in Gensokyo would when they were on a mission: fight first, as questions later. If she felt any sort of calm or zen-like state of mind as a result of using her deadly swords in battle then that was just a nice little bonus.

Her counterpart, a sword-wielding wolf tengu type, was similarly keen to hash things out by force. The long uneventful days of trudging through the woods prime the bored guards to respond with all the pent-up energy they naturally have. Actual intruders were rare enough and one who actually wished to fight was even rarer still! The tengu in question was trying her best not to smile and hoped that her growl sound more menacing than playfully joyous.

Sadly for both, the duel was not meant to be.

A second patrol wolf appeared, making a point of being mightily indifferent to Youmu. She directed hers words exclusively at her companion, “Shift’s ending soon, we’ll lose our chance if we’re late.”

“Oh, that was today?” The first one shook her head. Her large wolf ears flopped down, signaling a downshift in alertness. Turning to a very confused Youmu, who was still secretly hoping for a fight, the tengu added, “What are you doing up on the mountain, anyhow?”

“I, well, I came here to buy snacks.” Youmu said, not wanting to explain too much.

“Ah, you probably mean that really popular new place up in the village?”

“I guess!” Youmu blurted out and put her sword back into its scabbard with a suppressed “harrumph.”

“We’re doing that as well,” one tengu said, nodding to the other, “if you get there too late, they’re sold out for the day. Makes the afternoon patrols a little annoying. Not that the captain would understand…!”

Though Youmu wasn’t capable of openly grousing about Lady Yuyuko, she still felt some kinship with the supernatural canids and their complaints about their superiors. Thus, with minimal friction, she quickly got over the disappointment of missing out on a sword duel. It helped matters that they freely took to complaining about all aspects of their jobs as they climbed up the mountainside via hidden tengu trails. The long hours, the lack of recognition, the low pay and few perks of the job were all things that Youmu nodded at and sympathized with. A mix of innate discretion and reluctance to voice out loud thoughts that she sometimes had kept her from sharing. Her companions would no doubt react poorly to the revelation that she got no pay at all!

Wolf tengu take their duties seriously enough and are normally exemplary at keeping outsiders out of tengu territory. In other contexts, such as the one Youmu found herself in—where she was accepted and vouched for by two fluffy working stiffs—they treat you as one of the pack with all that that entails. Youmu found herself the subject of a raucous reception in the tengu village where all the returning patrols were converging around a series of food carts and bars. Puffy tails wagged, excitedly erect ears twitched, and friendly banter was heard all around. Youmu’s tengu guides somehow spread the word that she was alright and so no one found it odd that she should be in the midst of the furry throng.

“Here. This is what you came for, right?” one of her tengu companions offered her a skewer of fish and vegetables. They were perfumed with the unsubtle smoke from charcoal and marked with dark stripes where the food had come into direct contact with the grill.

Youmu thanked the wolf. How could she not? Even if she had wanted to clarify that she wanted to buy food and take it away to her mistress, it would have just been rude to turn down a thoughtful gesture like that. Mindful of getting any food on her recently-laundered green dress, she took a nibble from the tip of the skewer. Ginger, garlic, and soy were the most immediate flavors but something else, something novel that made her tongue tingle and intensified the taste of the other ingredients, lurked within the marinade. She had to admit that the fish was cooked to perfection as well, much better than she could manage by steaming—a nice crisp outer skin full of flavor contrasted with savory and juicy flesh that came apart easily without outright flaking. The thickly cut vegetables were also expertly seasoned and delicious.

“Well then, is it everything you hoped it would be?” the wolf tengu asked with a very toothy grin, fangs poking out of the sides of her mouth. Her dark eyes had been watching Youmu nibble and eat intently, betraying her own hunger.

“I haven’t had anything like this before,” Youmu conceded, taking a larger, more confident, bite from the skewered treat.

“Easy now! Don’t eat so much, so quickly,” the tengu laughed. Another tengu, who had been listening in on the conversation gave the girl a knowing smile.

“Huh?” Youmu widened her eyes and looked down at her skewer, unsure if she had done anything wrong. The tengu’s playful warning had seemed to her like the indirect instructions that Yuyuko was fond of giving out; it made her stiffen without really meaning to, made her face seem vaguely sullen, and gave her the overall impression of a small child who had been called out for taking one too many sweets.

Faced with such a perfect look of ignorance and passive defiance, the wolf tengu found herself pitying the not-quite-human girl. “You can taste it, right? It seems nice now, and isn’t all that strong but, if you eat a lot or eat too quickly, it builds up. And then your tongue burns and you’ll start crying. Just look over there,” the tengu pointed her nose at a comrade at the edge fo the group who was red-faced and sweating profusely. The hot dog squatted and fanned his face with his hands, looking as if he was trying to put out invisible flames.

The wolf tengu could see that she wasn’t getting through to the strange girl and the even stranger floating blob that seemed to mirror the girl’s body language despite not having a face, appendages, or really any other sort of discrete features—it was more of an attitude thing and it gave off an energy that somehow seemed to match the girl’s own. At any rate, both entities were slow on the uptake, the tengu decided, and because she was already intoxicated by the festive atmosphere around her, she was in a good mood. She led Youmu towards the edge of the crowd, where the queue for the grilled food ended.

“Stay in line, I want to get more for myself, in the meanwhile, I’m going to fetch something that will help you deal with that build up.”

Youmu might have offered to more resistance to the tengu if she hadn’t concluded that the grilled fish was the exact thing that Lady Yuyuko wanted. She was thinking that things were going smoothly even as she unconsciously began to breath through her mouth, passing air over a tongue that was progressing beyond feeling just tingly. It wasn’t outright unpleasant just yet but the irritation of her gums and tongue, which seemed also to radiate a dulling heat, was becoming difficult to ignore. Nonetheless, she continued to eat as she waited in line, enjoying the flavors and incapable of making the connection between the increasing intensity of the heat and the food.

When the wolf tengu returned, she was carrying a bottle of sake with her. “A good drink makes it easier to keep eating. And it makes it taste even better. You’re probably feeling it by now, aren’t you?” she asked, offering Youmu a drink.

Few people in Gensokyo would turn down a drink. The wolves around her were all a testament to that—the vast majority of the tengu were holding a cup or a box, drinking freely as they spoke and ate. Youmu was well aware that she was on a mission and ought to finish it as soon as possible but, at the same time, she thought about what Lady Yuyuko would do in her place. Suffice it to say Youmu drank and ate liberally as the line continued to advance, egged on by her energetic tengu companions.

“You know, you’re right about this stuff—it’s really good. I had no idea that the tengu were so good at cooking. Or good at being so friendly. Or just good,” Youmu spoke with great animation, her tongue loosened by the flowery sake that helped quench the ever-increasing fire that flared up in her mouth and stomach. She laughed, adding, “Sorry, that’s rude, but I’ve only really just spoken with the crow kind. Really nosy and like to stick their noses where it doesn’t belong, you know? Not like you guys. Wolves are great. Like those wolf spirits they were also alright even though….”

Much more of that kind of thing spewed forth from Youmu. Though some of what she said might have been considered just a little tiny bit insulting by some, the wolf tengu were thick-skinned and understood the importance of cutting loose after a long day of work. Since, for all intents and purposes, she was one of the pack for the day, they didn’t take the loud-but-affable girl too seriously. And, what’s more, who among them hadn’t griped about the occasional crow tengu who went out of their way to be obnoxious?

By the time she got to the head of the line, Youmu was properly drunk. The buildup of spice in her mouth had meant that she felt that she needed to take longer and longer drinks of sake to keep it manageable. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes watered. (The less said about the phantom-like snot that she had wiped from her nose, the better.) Youmu’s first encounter with real spice, something beyond freshly-grated horseradish, had her just barely holding her own. She would have been incapable of eating another whole skewer by herself. But the giddy, floaty space that her head found itself in meant that she didn’t want the feeling of fun to end.

And what of Lady Yuyuko? Youmu wanted to share her happiness with her too. That’s why she astounded the owner of the cart with her order: a dozen skewers to go! She used all of the money she had been entrusted with to try to pay. When told she was overpaying, she smiled and turned to her tengu companion, “Let’s spend the rest on more sake, then!”

---

Those who could be broadly categorized as magical and fantastical in the context of Gensokyo had many privileges they could depend upon. The ability of flight was chief among them and it freed them from the tyranny of established footpaths and trails. The freedom to fly along with the breeze more than made up for the major disadvantage of becoming incredibly conspicuous. At any rate, when one was as drunk and boisterous as Youmu was that disadvantage was an academic concern.

Youmu had taken flight when the sky had become ringed with brass and copper. Though she wanted to stay and have fun for a while longer, she kept thinking that the future version of herself would want her to surprise Lady Yuyuko with her haul as soon as possible. The dozen skewers—thirteen, really, an extra had been added by the smiling cart owner—were carefully wrapped in a bundle that she held close to her chest. She had been seen off warmly by the pack of wolves and had even grown intimate enough with them to get away with giving her more immediate companion a playful rub of a furry ear. The large amount of alcohol everyone had consumed had lubricated those interactions to the extent that even more outrageous acts would have been brushed off.

When she arrived back at the netherworld, Youmu was hardly any more sober. She had delighted in corkscrewing around, avoiding straight lines as much as (half) humanly possible, enjoying the refreshing feeling of the cool evening air upon her face. She had succumbed to temptation and nibbled upon the thirteenth skewer while flying, feeling a rush of flavor and stimulation with the roaring wave of heat that came from her mouth and compromised digestive tract; she did not yet know the full price she would have to pay and was happier for it, enjoying the clarity of taste and the dry gust of flavor that followed her ravenous bites. It burned good, so far as she could reckon.

She disarmed herself as she arrived, placing her weapons in their proper place and doing by rote the same thing she had done for decades whenever she arrived back at the estate. No amount of fizzy, bubbly, and tingly sensations could override the mandatory actions she was accustomed to doing. As such, she prepared a tray for her mistress, placing the bundle she had been carrying onto it and brought it to the sitting room that overlooked the inner garden as she had done thousands of times before.

Youmu summoned her mistress, finding her nearby at the garden, surrounded by a few phantoms who had wandered in. It was not an atypical scene but Youmu strained to be coherent, to maintain the decorum that was expected of her; with cheeks still rosy she told her mistress that she had had a really good experience and wished to share it with her. Shortly after, Youmu would sit down and then slump onto her cushion, fast asleep after many hours of adventure.

“Ah, Youmu, you got carried away again,” Lady Yuyuko remarked with a patronizing little laugh, the sort that her attendant would not normally pick up upon. She had expected her to fail or, at least, take much longer than she had. It was a surprise to see her so absolutely drunk and loose and for a moment she wondered if she had not been plied with alcohol on purpose by the Hakurei shrine maiden or someone else who found sudden intrusions annoying.

Still, the fragrance coming from the bag was pretty good. It was something different. It couldn’t possibly be something as exotic as saltwater fish, Yuyuko figured, but it seemed like Youmu had inadvertently thought for herself and returned with something rather different than normal. Innocently, gluttonous, Yuyuko picked up the first close-to-room-temperature skewer. She nibbled the fish—crunchy, savory and unlike most of the things she had eaten in hundreds of years.

She had another bite, and then another. And another. It was as quick as she had dispatched the rice balls. Under those circumstances, the build-up never had a chance to be gradual. It was on the seventh skewer that Yuyuko felt the full wrath of heat and flavor. The erstwhile deathless and immutable moon took on the appearance of mars and there was no amount of water could revive that lifeless planet.

Youmu slept placidly all through the night. Dreams of duels and being feted as a warrior brought a smile onto her still-tingling lips. It would be several months before her usual duties were again interrupted by an unreasonably and vague request from her mistress.

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 might sound too ridiculous of a request.” She gazed at the floor, lowering the corners of her lip. “C-Can’t you just lead me to the doctor?”

The cooperation could have been a better start. I have plenty of experience with these clients, so it was not that much of a problem for me. Luckily, the lunarian doctor appeared at just the right time, sparing me from such trouble. Her signature red and blue clothes fluttered as she closed her distance. The scent of antiseptic reached my nostrils.

“How are you doing, Udonge?” She called. Thank goodness. I gestured towards our client. The doctor took a short glance at the girl before speaking, “Kosuzu Motoori, how’s the bookstore going?”

The girl was taken by surprise, but she brushed it off with a smile. “It’s going fine. Um… Have we met before? I’m pretty sure I haven’t told you my name yet.”

Indeed. That was her first impression of the doctor, I recalled. “Dear, your name was written on your apron along with your workplace. Anyone can recognize you immediately, and that place was quite popular.” The doctor answered as the girl stared at her with widened pupils. “Has something happened to the Child of Miare?”

The girl was caught off-guard once more. “Yes.” She stuttered. “Again, how did you know about that?”

The doctor smiled in a calm, calculated demeanor. “I noticed that whatever brings you here must be quite urgent, to the point that you’d leave the Human Village without bothering to change your outfit. But, the way you’re talking tells me that it was not something worth crying about, so I guessed that it was nothing too personal. I admit that I got quite lucky with my guess, as the Child of Miare was the first person that came to mind.”

“You’re amazing, Doctor!” The little girl beamed. “It’s true that I came here to ask for your help regarding the illness of Hieda no Akyuu. I am one of her close friends, so you can imagine my feelings when I know of her current state. She was isolated in her room, and nobody was permitted to look for her, with the only exception being one of her chosen maids.”

I never thought that even the villagers knew the concept of isolating sick people, it reminded me of the special quarantine room back on the moon.

“We’ve searched for many people who could find the cure for her illness, but her isolation has made it impossible for the locals to determine her problem. We’ve already asked the witches, but not even them could help us!” She clasped her hands together. “If you would be so kind, Doctor. I would be so grateful if you’d take her on by yourself!”

The doctor placed a hand on her chin before nodding. “You’ve come to the right place.” She made her advances, picking up her coat from the racks. “We’ll escort you back to the Human Village while we make our way there. In the meantime, you don’t need to worry about Akyuu, she'll be fine the next morning.”

Had I not decided to tag along with Eirin that day, this note would’ve probably ended here. Changing my clothes to my usual villager disguise, I hurried up and left my duty on Eientei behind, with Eirin’s permission, of course (just in case a certain rabbit would use that to blackmail me). The wet trail of dirt beneath our feet—courtesy of yesterday's rain—made some splattering sounds as we made our way to the village. It reminded me of a folklore where a mischievous boy who likes to play in the rain would often be seen splashing around in puddles and soaking passersby. Granted, not all of these folklore are true. I doubt if some of them were real in the first place.

Soon enough, we arrived at the residence of Hieda no Akyuu. Entering the traditional wooden house, I noticed that there was a rack to place our sandals, aligned with many wooden geta of various sizes. I put my footwear there before setting my foot further into the rooms. It didn't take long before the maids noticed our presence. One of them used a black mask representing a bird with a long beak, seemingly busy with her errands.

“We’re not accepting guests today either.” The masked maid said, facing towards us. “Those who have nothing to do with our supplies should—” She gazed at Eirin, followed by two seconds of realization. “Oh—OH! You’re the doctor from Eientei, right?”

The maid’s attitude turned one-eighty. Immediately she shook her hands with the doctor, leading us around the house with enthusiasm.

“The children of Miare seldom lived beyond the age of thirty. There is no doubt, Doctor! The mysterious curse of death had arrived!” The maid stopped us in front of a door, with a clear warning sign that spelled ‘Do not enter!’. “We’ve isolated her to prevent such curse from spreading!”

The doctor folded her arms behind her. “Can I enter the room?”

“A-Ah, I’m afraid no, not even you.”

I felt ridiculed by her reply. Was she going to just let her die? I felt quite suspicious of her behavior. Despite the strict rule, Eirin Yagakoro did not bother.

“That’s alright.” To my surprise, she was genuinely smiling. “I’ll direct my questions to you instead. You’re fine with that, right?”

“Of course.” The maid motioned us to the chair. Eirin sat across from her while I found my seat in between. I pulled a paper and a pen from my pocket, preparing to document their conversation. I still have the scribble in my room, and I thought it’d be convenient to attach them here. The conversation went something along the record below.

---

“Something changed in her appearance?” Eirin started.
“She has been looking rather pale lately.”
“Can I get her blood sample?”
“Well, even if you can somehow get it without entering the room…”
“Diđ she has a fevęr these past few days?”
“I don’t think so.”
There was a short pause.
“How about her food?”
“Ah, she felt some pain in her stomach, so we’ve been giving her hot chicken soųp. I don’t think we used anything allergic.”
“Had she left the house before?”
“Not a chance, we’ve kept her inside the room since she was sick.”
“Not even to the restroom?”
“There’s a toilet built in thēre.”
Eirin stopped her questions. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

(Sorry for the noticeable drop in the quality of my handwriting! I was rushing alright!)

---

After the conversation, the doctor picked up her coat and went outside. “By the way, do you mind if I take a look at this house’s cesspool?” She asked the maid before leaving.

The masked maid tilted her head, looking at us quizzically. “Sure, don’t know what’s your business there, but I guess you have your reasons.”

As we set foot outdoors, the doctor roamed around the house, perhaps searching for more signs regarding our case. I saw some wet footsteps lurking on the ground just outside the back window. We eventually reached a pit at the back of the house, with a wooden door as its seal.

“You might want to use your mask here, Udonge.” The long, silver braid of her hair soared in the air as she prepared her gloves. “You could say that we are quite lucky. The Human Village isn’t modern enough to have a proper sanitary system, unlike in Eientei. They pile their waste in a pit until one of the farmers collects and uses them as their fertilizer. This means that we have free samples of our client’s feces.”

She opened the wooden pit, and I’d very much avoid describing the place. All I remember was the awful smell entering my nose, making me repulse despite the protection of my mask. Nevertheless, the doctor took no time in her sampling, closing the pit as soon as possible.

“We’ve done everything we could. Let’s head back to Eientei, Udonge.”

We returned to the Bamboo Forest of the Lost, making our way back to our beloved mansion. It was later that night, when I was cleaning the chemicals in the treasure room (I asked Tewi to keep an eye on the place, god knows what happened), I saw the doctor getting ready to leave, bringing a plastic bag along with her. I greeted her first and she smiled.

“Good timing, Udonge. I was just about to go to the Human Village again.” Her dark gray eyes shone in the dim light. It was close to midnight, so I naturally questioned her. “I’ve solved the case earlier. You can tag along if you want.”

I was really tired at that time, but my curiosity got the best of me. Using my usual long-sleeved black suit, the two of us went to visit the Human Village once more. The slight rain made our journey a tad difficult, but we still managed to enter the village. However, instead of going to Akyuu’s residence, we were heading further into the village, traveling past the human quarters until we reached the farmland.

“Say, Udonge, have you seen an Amefurikozō before?” Eirin turned towards me, facing her back towards the farm. The name reminded me of that folklore.

“You mean the youkai who likes to play in the rain? I haven’t seen one yet.”

Her mouth formed into a smile. “Then this would be your first time seeing that youkai.” I cast my eyes to the land, scanning the horizon before I noticed a presence on the farm. A small figure, standing still in the middle, caught my attention. Its outfit resembled a Wa Lolita with yellow sleeves, a green vest, and a red hakama skirt. Her face was hidden with a wide, traditional bamboo hat. Eirin approached the youkai from behind, wet dirt pressed under her shoes, until she was close enough to the figure.

“I'm surprised to see you here, Child of Miare.” The figure jolted as she heard the words coming from Eirin. She dropped to the ground, staining her clothes with the soil. I got a clear look on her face, and I was equally surprised as her.

“H-How did you find me?” Her face shriveled, the skin as pale as snow.

“Come now, you’re not supposed to be here.” The doctor offered her hand.

“No, I’m staying here until death picks me out.” She pouted. “At least answer my question first, how in the world did you find me?”

Had that question been directed to me, I would have stayed silent for another minute to think about any other reason besides luck. “Series of previous events had led me to you, specifically, your illness.” The doctor crossed her arms, a hand cupping her chin. “We’ve taken a sample of your waste, and the result shows that you are suffering from hookworm infection. The infection often leads to anemia, which is the reason for your pale skin. When the maid told me this, I thought that you were suffering from malaria, since your small room would be the perfect place for the female mosquitoes to lay their eggs. That idea was pitched immediately as I heard that you’re not suffering from a fever. Then, the maid told me that you were having stomach pain. I figured it out at that point, but the problem lies in the fact that hookworms could only be transmitted through soil. I doubted that you’d go out of your way to the farm, but the symptoms were correct. I need to find a way to confirm this, so I took a sample of your feces and ran it through several tests.”

My eyes were wide open, baffled by her godlike deduction. “But, how did you know that she went to the farm? I thought she was trapped in her room.” I asked, genuinely curious.

“When we entered the house, I remembered there was a rack of sandals in the front. Later at the back, I saw some footsteps near the window. The ground was wet due to yesterday's rain, so I got myself a clear look at them. You snuck out of your house through the window, using only your bare feet because you can’t go to the front to get your footwear. Unfortunately, this decision became the main reason for your infection, letting the hookworms pierce through your sole quite easily. Now, there’s only one question I couldn’t solve.” She placed her arms at her hips. “Why?”

The Child of Miare gazed below, drooping her entire body. “You don’t understand…” Her voice was shaky as if crying. “All this time, I spent my whole life writing the Gensokyo Chronicle, always working for someone else. Never had I had the time to work on my own dreams…” She raised her head. “What is the purpose of my life? Just to work? Am I just a cog in someone else’s life? I no longer feel that I mattered.” Her eyes connected with the doctor, staring at her blankly. “Right now, I only have one last dream, to wet my sole freely in the farmlands, to enjoy my time in life to the fullest.”

From this point forward, the case was solved, and Hieda no Akyuu was cured of her infection.

---

(The notes following this were originally classified, as Eirin asked me to never tell this experience to anyone else, but she never forbade me to write them down, right? It’s not like anybody other than me can gain access to this.)

The wide horizon of the night sky, along with millions of its stars, illuminated the farm where we held our conversation.

“Say, Doctor, have you ever had a dream in your life? You’re an immortal, right? How can you stay motivated for that long? Do you have any conceivable goals in your life? What… What is the point of your life?” The Child of Miare whimpered, looking at the doctor with eyes full of sorrow.

The cold wind of the night brushed my skin as I watched the doctor calmly thinking of an answer. “What is the point of my life, you ask? A doctor’s duty is to serve their patients. It is true that the whole point of my job is to work for someone else. I don’t see that as a bad thing. Many times my clients were in the state of near-death, and their family would come and put their hopes in me. When I freed them of their illness, the patient, along with their family, would often show their gratitude in many ways. Perhaps, it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but I know that someone out there appreciated me for what I’m doing. Knowing that I made them happy through my work was enough of a motivation for me.”

The Child of Miare stared at the doctor, eyes glimmering with hope. “You too are the same. Earlier today, young Kosuzu went out of the village just to visit Eientei. She was willing to risk her life for you. You may not realize it, but there are people out there who really appreciate the effort you’ve been putting in your life. I’m not asking you to reciprocate them, but I think that most of us, including me, often disregard that fact.” The doctor handed her the plastic bag she was carrying. “These are all the medicine you need to drink to get rid of the worms. Take it if you want, but if you don’t, I won’t waste my time here any longer.”

I remembered the sight of her hands grasping the bag, her face was dripping with tears, with a smile adorning her lips. She was cured a day later, and I’d often see her from time to time with a cheerful expression.