(8-12-2003)

Welcome to True Bunbun Radio.

TRUE ~ BUNBUN ~ RADIO

(The badass of journalism)
GIVE HER JOURNALISM OR GIVE HER DEATH

"That's it. Bun."

Broadcasting live from her beautiful skyline office in the tengu village.

"You sound battier than the Scarlet Mansion's vampires for Christ's sake."

And now, she'll take it from here. Your host - the traditional reporter of reporters - no need to crya, for here comes -"

AYA.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to True Bunbun Radio. There's no need to crya, for here is Aya. Now, I want to thank everyone for listening to what is the first episode of the True Bunbun Radio. Radio hasn't really been marketed that much here in Gensokyo, but that doesn't matter to me, not in the slightest. I intend to remain fully on top of all mediums. Besides, I need something to entertain myself and my adoring audience while the ink dries from the printing presses.

"Maybe you're wondering just how this radio set-up came to be, and I'm glad you asked. At least I presume you asked, because why wouldn't you? That's the natural flow of a conversation, you ask and the other person answers. And when they leave something hanging, you ask questions about it. Do you know how many young people these days don't bother doing that? S

Smooth, brown hair pouring around a red-faced pout, equal parts beautiful and adorable. A stunning contrast to her usual, firm and lazy demeanor. Those soft, red lips moved, baring her tongue to speak.

“Yes.”

Somewhere, far in the distance, Suwako cheered. Kanako nodded her head, bestowing on me a proud, loving smile. Reimu moved first, pressing her delicate fingers and warm palms against my cheeks as her lips closed, then puckered. A long shiver rolled down my spine. I answered her bold, affectionate move in kind, by wrapping my arms around her back, pulling her in close. I felt so much more warmth. It all happened so fast, but I didn’t care. I knew, deep in my soul, that it would all work out. That our love would conquer anything and everything. Our lips pulled ever closer.

But when they touched, the haze came. I clung to her all the tighter, worry now coursing through me. She pleaded that I come back, but the fog dragged her further and further away. That was the first time in our perfect love that I cried. I pushed closer, I kept myself down, quiet, still, as much as I possibly could. But it was too late. Reimu had evaporated in the morning air.

In the place of Reimu’s voice, I heard the calm but steady huff of a modest wind, muffled by the shrine walls. I felt the weight of my blanket atop me, the embrace of my pillow and futon beneath. A couple tears still clung to the corners of my eyes as I clung to the sheet. Light came last, as I realized that only the weakest sliver reached my bedroom. The sun had barely started to rise.

For a good minute or two, I laid there, mourning my lost dream. My eyes had closed again, as I hoped to return, to at least finish that kiss.

But it only took that long to realize I wouldn’t be falling back asleep. A nervous energy coursed through me, trapping me awake. The secret weapon hid inside my dresser. If I slept in much longer, Kanako would call me to start making breakfast while she got the heat going, then brush any loose snow off the path, then…

I pulled myself up, onto my butt, and allowed myself a short, quiet yawn. I could do it today, but was I ready? Did I reall

The kappa worked as if in a daze. Mechanically greeting customers, giving them stupid knick-knacks and taking their coins. She wasn't sure why she was here. She wasn't sure where else she would be.

She took one of the glass balls decorated with bits of sand and shell, rolling it on the countertop. The little kappa in the center spun with it, stubbornly staying put and smiling even as its world was shaken. Stupid little reptile.

A shadow fell over her and she plastered a smile on before looking up.

"Can I help you?"

It was a mother with a snotty brat, the little terror all but lunging for the "sandglobes" in an effort to slime-coat
and scatter all of them. There was only one possible reaction when the kid behaved like that, and-

"Which one did you want, dear?"

Called it. She pitched her voice a couple octaves higher, to do due justice to her client's intelligence. "Oh, the Nitori one is very popular. That and Marisa are our best sellers."

Stone and more stone together made stronger stone — or so the logic went. However true it was or wasn’t, it was the sort of logic that would appeal to someone made of stone. It would easily and concisely explain why such an individual would be climbing the Youkai Mountain, otherwise lacking in ready excuses. Thinking of excuses was, after all, difficult when your brain was also made of stone.

Komano Aun, the stony lion-dog defender of sacred spots in Gensokyo, was such an individual, possessing little in the way of wit owing to her gravel-filled head. She didn’t particularly feel a need for excuses but did have a desire to be stronger. Being one rock on top of a much bigger rock, she did feel stronger in some way, though it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, she was sure. Otherwise, she would have been able to do something about the problems that tormented others and thus her. She couldn’t, though, and so she had taken off from the Hakurei Shrine, her tail between her legs.

Thinking it over again made Aun slow her steady ascent. Being of very little brain, thinking didn’t do her much good beyond inducing her to sigh and pine to be back at the familiar shrine, staking her usual spot near the torii. There were other places in Gensokyo where she could do the same — she was heading to one just now — but it was the inability to do so there that pained her stony lion-dog heart.

This process of thinking, slowing down, and sighing repeated for the whole sojourn up the mountain. She was so lost in her thoughts that the wolf-people who usually harangued her said very little this time. They looked at her with pity and stepped out of her way, allowing her to continue on her way with nary a comment or entreaty to leave their mountain peacefully. All of this escaped her notice, mostly. It wasn’t until she was near the bounds of the Moriya Shrine that she even saw fit to heed that she had put some distance between herself and the other shrine.

To any human visitor, a shrine’s torii would evoke the hope that either ambition, desperation, or longing bring out. Howeve

The beast looked into the depths of Hell—and in it, he saw Fear itself: Its gaping maw gnashing, Its sea of teeth crashing against the souls of the damned. And what the beast caught sight of, laying beneath writhing flesh, was he himself—that which fell into the wolf's maw.

(A short outside of /shorts/.)

It was noontide over the sacred mount of Iwanagahime, and all about her burgeoned the brilliant life of Gensokyo.

You wonder to yourself when this became routine, feeling your legs move you toward your destination.

That is, the abode of one Hatate Himekaidou, a crow tengu such as yourself and a recently formed friend. You get the feeling that any such friends of hers would be categorized as recently formed, with her habit of staying inside all day. If it weren't for the rivarly with that other reporter girl, you suspect she'd not leave at all.

Your thoughts are interrupted as an obstacle impedes your progress - that is, the door. Fist clenched, you raise it toward the door, before letting it fall back to your side. Instead, you grip the knob and turn it, pushing forward. You're left unsurprised at the lack of resistance, taking a moment to excuse yourself in.

Slipping off your geta, you call out for your fellow tengu.

"Hatate, it's me. Here for your daily check up, wanting to make sure you're not dead or anything."

Not waiting for a response, you move further inside. Dust kicks up around your feet as you move, making yet another imprint on the floor. There's small lines clear of it, others in the shape of a hand. Feeling the impulse to slam your head against a wall, you force yourself to look away. Hatate's room is coming up anyway.

"My Room."

A sign hangs on the door, the wooden engraving clean and proper. Underneath is another, this time just made of paper, with a little doodle of the creator's head in the lower right corner.

Big menus of cheap food with cheery service — that was the basic pitch of every family restaurant. And it was often a successful one, at that. The tengu-heavy ends of Gensokyo had seemingly become mushroomed with them, luring in people of all stripes and even species.

One of those famires chains was Freshtaste, an established chain with a new location in an equally recent commercial area. Rumor had it that the latest shop was struggling in its first year, but no one would know by looking: the lighting was as warm, the benches as soft, and the soft drinks as endless as any other location.

A crow tengu woman walked in through the sliding glass doors, the cool breeze of the air conditioning making soft waves in her wings. Her black hair was parted neatly down the middle, straight as a ruler, making her wide forehead protrude and gleam underneath the lights. She instinctively pat the satchel over her shoulder as she strode up to the counter, next to a blackboard listing the day’s specials and a small sign asking politely to wait for service. She glanced into the restaurant proper to get a feel for the room. This evening’s crowd looked like the usual assortment of half-awake salarymen, gossiping mothers, and teenagers filling the booths of the restaurant.

“Good afternoon! Sorry for the wait. Welcome to Freshtaste! How many tonight?”

The tengu turned to the waitress that had just grabbed her attention. She was a little on the short side, with her slender arms holding a small stack of menus against her chest. She was flashing a bright, beaming smile, and the bangs of her grass-colored hair were almost but not quite long enough to cover her eyes. The waitress’s wings flitted behind her. They were thin, almost translucent, with a trail of yellow along the edges that was so thin and golden that they looked gilded. Definitely not crow tengu’s wings; that much was clear.

“No trouble at all! Just me, please,” the crow tengu chirped.

Her smile widened, pleased with her luck as she followed the waitress to a quiet-looking booth. The waitress whisked herself away, returning moments later with a glass of water and a small b

"To the ruler, the people are heaven; to the people, food is heaven."
— Anonymous

[x] Fairies! Damn it!

You curse as you take her hand. "It's fairies. Has to be."

Sanae laughs, clearly less disturbed by that fact than you are. "What makes you think that?"

Ah. You never did tell her about them, did you? "A trio of them gave me some pretty bad grief yesterday. This seems like something they'd do."

"Hmm." She looks around yet again. "Well, I don't see any."

Dusting yourself off, you look again. Yeah, you don't see any either. But you do think you hear a faint giggle from the brush.

"Did you hear that?" You ask.

"Hear what?"