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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(https://x.com/chamaji33/status/1356168610943623168)

By any account at any glance, it was Suzunaan’s most extremely ordinary kind of day. The sun, she beamed joyously; the wind sang softly outside and never brought inside the early winter chill. The scratchy tones of a phonograph - needle bouncing along the grooves of a chiptune record - and that pleasant kind of bookshop dust sweetened the air behind the curtained door. A handful of customers sat or stood in this corner or that corner (or were Sekibanki, bravely striving to look cool and intellectual by being in both at once and another besides, while appearing to read all at once books by authors with strange foreign names like Haideggaa, Kirukegooru, and Kamyu). Every single one of them had paid up their late fees and returned all their outstanding books.

Kosuzu whistled softly as she sorted out the ledgers and worried about when, exactly, it was that the hammer would fall. This was the kind of perfect day that usually only happened when some kind of mean sucker punch was hiding behind it.

She eyed Komachi, idling in the comedy aisle and giggling like a girl half her age (how old was she? … maybe half of half of half her age?) at an Outsider manga about being Emperor instead of the Emperor, or some such thing. Kosuzu had long since written off the books loaned to the shinigami as gone for good. Dropped in the river, maybe, or perhaps just made off with.

That assumption had turned out somewhat ungenerous, and now Kosuzu was in possession of an entire year's worth of unexpected late fees. Only slightly less generous was the subsequent assumption that this was a sign of some unwholesome scheme.

Komachi continued to flip pages, too absorbed in it to care about petty, worldly concerns like being forty-five minutes into a fifteen minute break… but if she was doing some surreptitious wrong other than that, there wasn’t the slightest sign.

Sekibanki was looking up from her books to see if any of the other customers were appreciating how intelligent and philosophical she came off.

Mamizou was flipping through back issues of the

Links to other sites:
Archive of our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55260253
Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14347730/1/I-Have-the-Right-to-be-Happy

---

Reimu frowned at the liquid in her cup. Others would have tipped it back without complaint, but five-sixths full wasn’t full to her. She looked up at Yukari. “Hey, Mom! Get some—!” She slapped a hand over her mouth in realization.

“Oho?”

“Ohohoho?!”

“‘Mom?!’” everyone said in unison.

Somewhere in the southwestern district of a city, derisively called the Human Village by its less-than-human visitors and inhabitants, where willows grew along the canal, there lived a terrifying youkai. She stalked the canal's banks, her long neck's grip breaking not one bone, her many heads not letting anyone she met escape her nightmare-inducing gaze!

She was...! She was... bored out of her mind.

"What a waste of time... Where is everyone?" Sekibanki said, irritated, to no one in particular, leaning on a tree, arms crossed.

This week was truly the worst she had in her recent memory. It started, like always, with the worst torture ever created - part-time work in the service sector. Well, alright, it wasn't usually that bad. The cafe was in a nice neighborhood, the family that owned the place were nice enough not to bother her with pleasantries, and the pay was good for a waitress.

But it seemed that everyone was out to get her that week. Whiny brats that kept spilling tea on her work clothes, nagging grandmas that would talk all nine of her brains out, meatheaded ronin that kept trying to add her to their bodycount one way or the other, barely disguised hick youkai that kept breaking dishes with their totally well-hidden tails and tentacles, barely sane hick humans that kept unnerving the customers with their nonsense about the staff at Yagokoro Clinic injecting the newborn with tiny metal bugs that only they could see, dorky wolf-women trying to get her into their secret sewing club or whatever, and so on! Made her blood boil just thinking about it.

As she wasted every last mon of her hard-earned pay drowning her sorrows in food and drink, she got an idea. She would end this week on a good note, and do so in a way that was proper for the Rokurokubi Horror - going all out in her horrifying glory! Sure, it would be a few weeks ahead of schedule, but Sekibanki has done this before and rarely got into trouble for it.

So, when the Rat's hour came, she got to her favourite spot under a large willow tree, just some forty ken to the north from her house, and waited. And waited. And waited...

Nearly two hours passed since

Previous thread hit sage limit, but I also forgot to post the update to a new thread, so an accidental double post it is.

[x] Cirno the ice fairy

“… Cirno the ice fairy,” Patchouli answers.

“Alright, then let’s train her up to fight Meira,” I continue naturally for a moment. My brain does a double take and I realize what was just said, pondering, “Wait… what do you mean Cirno won?”

“It was rather startling, but yes, she won,” Meiling confirms. “Shameimaru didn’t seem to put in much effort, and underestimated Cirno.”

I cajole with a wave of my hands, “I still don’t think I understand how that’s supposed to happen. I see it everywhere that fairies are supposed to be the bottom rung of Gensokyo, but she won against a tengu?”

“Nominally, you would be correct,” Patchouli notes, seated lamely waiting for her next chance to read. “Cirno is an odd fairy, however. You studied her, I imagined you would understand her potential better than I.”

“Don’t be a bastard,” I spew. “I knew she was strong, but I thought Shameimaru was some kind of famous tengu?”

Thread 1: >>41094
Thread 2: >>41628
Thread 3: >>42837

[x] Apologize to Suwako, explain, pull Byakuren aside.
　[x] ...to talk about the booze.

Tragically, perfect, refined solutions would need to wait until all crises were under control. In fact, what I needed now was a… ‘solution’ that, frankly, disgusted me. I nudged Byakuren aside, took a deep breath, and I…

I bowed to Suwako. I bowed deep and firm, like a subordinate apologizing for a screw-up. And worse, my speech followed suit. “My deepest apologies, dear goddess. The mastermind of a kidnapping kerfuffle had sought to ensnare your shrine maiden in her schemes. I have chased that scoundrel down and confined her within my domain, but when Sanae wished to contribute to her punishment, I could not in good conscience deny her.”

Byakuren huffed, annoyed further that I had pushed her away. But Suwako hummed, her desires shifting from protection to confirmation. “And this mastermind was…?”

Reading the faintest ebb in Suwako’s tension, I rose to a far shallower bow. “Lady Futatsuiwa, I’m afraid.”

Moving on to the next thread from >>43483

By the dragon himself, how has it been over a year already?
Thanks for sticking around, folks! Hopefully I can make this chapter 3 congeal into something good soon enough.

---

[x] Just ask the god that’s always around there for help.

“So what’s the first thing you’re going to say when we get up there, Tanner?” Mokou asks me as the dirt road fades into a set of stone steps.

I’ve gotten used to walking enough that I’m not overly winded, but there is a slight shortness to my breath in conversation when climbing up the steps.

“Well, isn’t it enough to just ask for help finding the frog god?” I reply.

“She is not a god of frogs, Tanner,” Ran notes.

The veil had fallen.

Someone was bound to pick it up.

He apologized first to the girl. “Sorry,” Kigaku mouthed to Kyouko.

“Sorry,” she echoed as the prophet bowed in shame.

“No—um. It’s alright. Really.” The book-girl shrugged in resignation. “I’ve memorized the contents, more or less. And it was only a matter of time until something like that would burst into flames, so it was only inevitable.”

“And why would that be the case?”

“Because,” she said, her orange eyes falling onto the yamabiko. The girl was half a word into her next sentence until she cut herself short, instead muttering to herself. She hunched over, and, as if the prophet and his companion didn’t even exist, she circled around, mumbling non-words all the while.

“Um. Hello?” Kyouko took a nervous step back and retreated to behind the prophet. “I’m not liking this, Ametsuchi.”

The man silently agreed. It was not just her demeanor, either: Both the prophet and the youkai sensed malintent. And though the book-girl seemed innocuous at first glance, a spell of malevolence took to the air around her.

Kigaku nodded to his assistant. “Excuse me. Miss?”

I open the blank scroll, pick up a brush, and begin writing.
"Today, on the 6th August, another outsider got killed." I stop at that single line, and sigh. I really want to add more, but I must stick to what I know, and maintain the archive perfectly. I want to add that he was extremely incoherent, and got killed by the militia after he snatched a sword and threatened to kill them if they got closer.
I put the brush down, carefully, and I stretch. Trying to forget the sight of his mangled body is an exercise in itself, but keeping notes is sadly all I can do. Speaking of which, let's see just how many outsiders are still alive by now.
"Five outsiders got in Gensokyo after their bus got lost..." Five, right. Three of them died before they could reach the village, and the fourth one died yesterday in the evening. Meaning there's only one left, and that poor sap probably doesn't feel all right.

I pick up my cane, and slowly walk to the window. At least today is relatively quiet.
"You got a new dead outsider? Can I eat him?"
And there she goes.
"They already cremated him. And by the way, I didn't give you my keys, how did you come in?"
"I made a spare."
I can't help but smile, and she does the same. Youkais are a troublesome lot, but I don't mind that one.
"Why visit me today? Are you bored again?"
"I finished my book. Got another one?"
Her eyes land on my weak leg, and her smile briefly disappear while her eyes grow enraged. She opens her mouth, but closes it after a while.
"I just might. As long as you tell me why you're really here."