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Strange Samsara of Migrant Myth Chapter 1(Touhou/Worm Crossover)
🕑 Added 2022-06-07 00:50:15 +0000 UTCSmile and the world smiles with you.
Greg Veder tried to live life like that. Be enthusiastic, be overboard with the joy, and maybe, someday, somebody would be friends with him. It was hard though. He laughed at the wrong places, smiled at the wrong times, and people always wanted to smile when he wasn’t.
So much for showing your best self when people seemed determined to stomp on you anyways.
Right now, Greg was running because some jerks wanted to laugh while he cried. His first year done, Greg knew what to do as soon as the bell rang.
Start running.
School sucked. Elementary school sucked. Middle school sucked, and high school sucked the most because as a non-racist white kid with no interest in drugs, everybody forgot he existed until they wanted somebody to pick on.
Being unaffiliated with a gang was worse than being in one because you were the guilt-free, consequence-free, the free-est punching bag for… everybody. E88 kicked you because you were a race traitor. The Merchants made you jump up and down for loose change to pay for their drugs. The ABB would’ve been cool to join. Greg liked anime and manga, but being white, the ABB would’ve bounced him like a basketball. And if all three of the gangs thought you were a free target, everybody thought you were a free target.
With the final semester almost over, Greg would have all summer to just fuck off and around on his computer. For now, Greg was getting his daily cardio as he tried to run from his bullies. Today’s brand of bully was unaffiliated which was nice and shitty in different ways. Nice because this meant that maybe the teachers would actually do something if he “tattled”. Shitty because this just reaffirmed how shitty Winslow was.
It sucked. It really sucked that Greg couldn’t get into the other schools. Arcadia wasn’t a part of the district where Greg and his mom lived, so that was out. Immaculata would have been safe, but it was also expensive.
“Hey! The weasel’s over here!”
“Yeah! Get ‘im!”
“Greggy boi! We just want to help!”
“And maybe some help with our homework!”
“Weasel race! Weasel race!”
Greg hated that ‘nickname’. Just because he was short and stubby and knew when the hell to run away doesn’t mean he was a weasel. He wasn’t clever or smart or anything. He just did the stupid homework. Why weasel!? He wasn’t anything like a weasel!
Not that he had anything against weasels. They were nice and long and fluffy and amazing. It just… Greg liked it when his mom called him a weasel, but everybody else? They meant the nickname to hurt, and it did. So Greg didn’t like the nickname.
Even as he ran down the street, he mentally counted the voices. FIve distinct insults for five voices. There had been seven running after him.
Eyes widening, Greg slid to a stop, just in time to avoid a flying tackle that came out of the alleyway.
“Shit!” the bully cried as he just missed his target.
“Shit!” Greg swore as he darted into the alleyway. Continuing forward would no doubt bring him to the seventh bully. Better to do something unexpected.
“Corner him! It’s a dead-end!” the bully cried as he got up.
Dead-end? For them, maybe, but it was a simple chain-link fence. While Greg couldn’t climb the rope in gym class for shit, hopping chain-link fences was a skill he had honed since the first time he was in a ‘game of tag’.
Scrambling up and over, Greg kept on running as soon as he landed. As much as he had bragged (in his own mind) at least, as soon as he showed that a chain-link fence could be hopped. As it was, the swearing and clanging of the fence pushed him to run faster.
Darting out the other side, Greg spotted an open antique store on the other side of the street. Looking both ways, he dashed across the empty street and into the shop, carefully not jingling the bell. Nobody was in the shop, so Greg crawled under a covered table in a hidden corner, holding his breath. If he damaged something, he’d apologize, but he really, really, really did not want to be a punching bag today, or ever.
Peeking through a small hole in the tablecloth, Greg saw the bullies rush towards the shop, barely slowing down to shove the door open. The welcoming bells didn’t so much jingle as clash as loud as a church bell.
“Hey, not so loud,” one of the leaders hissed, “We don’t want to spook the weasel.”
It took everything Greg had to not shout something. That’d blow his cover. But holy fucking shit did the giggles not make it easy to keep his mouth shut. It wasn’t even that clever. It was a stale-ass joke.
“We’re not open,” a smooth voice murmured.
Adjusting his position, Greg barely repressed a squee. It was a Mysterious Shopkeeper. Capitals absolutely necessary. White-haired, spectacles, he was non-descript in the coolest way possible. He wore old-timey japanese clothes, blue and black with white designs, and Greg had seen enough anime to know not to fuck with these types of people.
…This was so cool. Cooler than Capes and Parahumans, this was like… anime come to life or something.
“Oh, yeah,” the leader of the group swaggered forward, “Sorry, man. We’re just looking for a friend of ours.”
“Well, this is my shop and I see no others than you,” the Shopkeeper sighed, pushing his spectacles up with-- ANIME GLEAM! He did the ANIME GLEAM! “I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. I’m about to have an important meeting.”
The bullies, all large and muscular from football practice because of course, they’d be football players, sauntered foth. The leader drawled, “Come on, just let us--”
The welcoming bells rung again, light as a passing wind this time, as a voice cut in, light and airy but sharp in the manner of lightning.“Shopkeeper-san, I didn’t know you were open.”
All participants, Greg included with a bit of shuffling readjustment underneath the table, turned to see the newest entrant
Blond haired, wearing a nice dress with a weird apron thing draped across, Greg was less concerned with the weird pointed hat and more obsessed with the fluffiest nine-set of tails he had ever seen.
It was a real-life, bona-fide Fox-lady! Nine-tailed fox-lady! It was a real life kitsune! Greg bit his arm to keep from squee-ing. Oh, this was so much cooler than a Cape fight. Today was pretty shitty, but hell yeah! Anime WAS real.
“Lady Ran,” the Shopkeeper addressed the Fox-Lady, further establishing his position as a Hidden Badass in Greg’s mind, “You know full well that I am nowhere near ready to open.”
“Aw, but these young ones seem….” the kitsune paused, tapping her chin daintily, before filling the next phrase with sinister sultriness, ”So delightful in their youth.”
…Wasn’t there something about kitsune eating the livers of young men? Greg’s excitement was tempered by the fact that maybe he’d die today. …Oh, well! It was Brockton. Maybe he’d get a chance to touch fluffy tail before he went?
The bullies were much more sensitive to the danger and left, not quite screaming, but definitely not calmly, pushing and shoving one another in their haste to get out of the store. The kitsune tittered, one long sleeve hiding her smile as she viewed the passin miscreants with arrogant mockery.
She was so cool.
As the stampede faded away, Greg sighed with relief from the table he hid under. Finally, he was safe. Maybe he’d actually get to walk home for once. Peeking out, he licked his lips when he saw the fox-lady take a seat at the counter. Hm, maybe he should wait for an opening to leave. Try and not be “delightful”.
As much as he’d like to touch fluffy tail, Greg also wanted to keep his liver. He needed that to drink alcohol at some point. Oh, and to live, he guessed.
…This was so cool. So very, very fucking cool. Greg felt like the luckiest boy in the world. He found proof that anime WAS real, saw a real-life Fox-Girl, and was now going to get to witness SECRETS!
…Wait, that was probably bad. He’d probably get killed to ‘hide the secrets’.
…So cool. SO fucking cool. Just… don’t be suspicious! Yeah, don’t be suspicious. ANd also be hella quiet, don’t let them know you were there.
---
Ran Yakumo, Shikigami of the Gap Youkai, wondered if Morichika-san had noticed the little weasel hiding under the table in the corner. The small boy, hair as golden as her very own tails, seemed to be in the middle of chanting a prayer to not be noticed.
A complete failure of course, but an adorable one. It reminded Ran of her Chen’s past attempts to hide from a scolding. Well, if Morichika-san had not kicked him out like he had attempted to with the other rabble, who was she to do so? It wasn’t like what she planned to discuss with the Shopkeeper would make much sense to an outsider.
And if the child could make sense of it? Well, it’d take a special sort of Fool to act upon that information, and Ran had the feeling the child could be… persuaded to aid their cause. She held back a giggle at an even stranger thought.
Why, if the child was half as mad as a certain Fool with a Voice, the child may even wander in and volunteer willingly to help bring back Gensokyo.
Ran giggled, indulging in that bit of idle daydreaming. That’d truly be cosmic comedy at that point. Still, time for dreams in sleep later. In all seriousness though, having the child spread rumors of their plans would only provide fuel and foundation for Gensokyo to be reformed.
Tales and stories were the bedrock of the Land of Fantasy after all. Best to start laying out the bricks now.
“How have things been, Shopkeeper-san?” Ran asked, idly tracing a circle on the counter. Plastic made to look like wood, the countertop disappointing in its attempt to capture the texture and feel of wood, failing to come close to that homey allure.
…She missed the old Kourindou.
“As well as can be, I suppose, Lady Ran,” Morichika-san responded. He then bowed, “Thank you for helping me move all my wares. It would’ve been difficult otherwise.”
Out of all of them, the Shopkeeper had been the one to best adapt to the new world so far, quickly learning to use the new tools and adapting to the unspoken customs and Unwritten Rules of this world. Without his steady presence, Ran doubted any of the former residents of Gensokyo would’ve… stayed together. She doubted that she would’ve been strong enough to even start thinking of planning the search.
Never raging, never despairing, simply always striding forward even as he idled about, Morichika-san was a quiet and calm marvel in the chaos that had been that tumultuous beginning. Ran wondered if he missed the old Kourindou too, though.
“You’re welcome,” Ran responded with a smile. There would be time for reminiscence later. For now, there was work to be done and life to be lived, “I can only imagine the difficulty! What would you have done? Borrowed a car? I shudder to imagine how distracted you would’ve become in dissecting such a vehicle.”
Pushing his glasses up, Morichika-san scowled, “Compared to Professor Okazaki’s Hypervessel, a car is as simple as folding a paper crane. I’m mildly offended that you think such a mundane thing as a ‘car’ would baffle me.”
“Hmm, perhaps, perhaps. Your Rubik’s cube remains unsolved by the way,” Ran countered, picking up and fiddling with the cube in question.
Taking the puzzle cube from her, Morichika-sanr politely did not growl, “And I will discover how to solve the cube myself, Lady Ran. Please do not attempt to solve it for me.”
As he fiddled with the cube in an attempt to prove her wrong, Ran giggled. Ah, it was nice to see that even though many things had been lost in the migration, some things remained the same, “Far be it from me to take away one of your idle hobbies, Shopkeeper-san.”
The Shopkeeper did not dignify that with a proper response, simply giving an annoyed huff and setting the cube down off to the side. Leaving the room for a bit, he returned with a steaming teapot and two cups. Placing a cup for the fox-lady and a cup for himself, the Morichika-san served Ran first and then himself.
A shared sip and a silent moment passed before Morichika-san eventually sighed, “Do you truly think this is a good place to build again?”
“This land holds the same feel as the one that was not-yet Gensokyo long ago. Melancholy, grief, a sense of loss, and a greedy yearning for purpose once more,” Ran said confidently, not even giving away a bit of uncertainty that she kept hidden away, “A bit of work, a bit of luck, and this could be Gensokyo anew.”
“Hm, well, I suppose there will be a sea at least this time around,” Morichika-san nodded, “The Eientei have released themselves by the way. I’d have preferred them to be closer to here, but the Princess is… wilful to say the least.”
“I know,” Ran confirmed. She had seen the rumors growing on the quaint little forums of the internet. PHO? It was a good thing Lady Yukari had insisted that Ran learn how to navigate ‘social media’ from Sumireko all that time ago. Still, those sites were no better than rumor mills. Better to ask from a first-hand witness, “How have the Hourai Immortals and the rabbits settled in?”
“Well, enough. While the Eientei miss their bamboo forests, they’ve settled in well enough to Yellowstone.” “Ugh, I knew I was forgetting something. How will they come back once we have finished rebuilding?”
“Peace, Morichika-san. Gensokyo will call them when it is time. With a bit of luck, and with the White Hare of Inaba, they have a surplus of that, they’ll come when everything is ready and not a moment before,” Ran then frowned as a thought occurred to her, “...Barring any of the Princess’s strange whimsies.”
“Hopefully, the internet will indulge in that for now,” Morichika-san grumbled before dropping to a low mumble to rant about how many wires there had been to untangle. He raised his voice, “It’s a tad annoying how many answers there are, you know. On the internet, I mean.”
“Hm?” Ran raised a demure eyebrow, watching as the Shopkeeper selected a box to rummage through, “I would’ve thought finally having the answers on how to properly use your little knick-knacks would’ve made you happy.”
“Part of the fun was the mystery. I knew just enough to see what an item should do, but not enough to actually use them,” Rnnosuke sighed as he held up a snowglobe, “Now? It’s a matter of simply finding the name of the object and then looking up a guide. With my ability, it’s merely looking up a guide and then simply practicing. What a thing to complain about though. Having too many answers.”
Setting the snowglobe to the side, he then picked up a pair of crystal orbs, white and black in duality. Ran pursed her lips even as Morichika-san grimaced. It was a bit awkward to have the legendary Yin Yang Orbs of the Hakurei be stuffed in a box full of Christmas ornaments. Morichika-san quickly set the Yin-Yang Orbs into the guarded display with the other artifacts of the lost Incident-Resolvers; a katana and wakizashi, a miniature facsimile of a Hakkero. Ran knew that there were more such artifacts and there were the items that bore the spirits of the various Tsukumogami, still healing, but the Kourindou had been a mess, the act of moving everything only exacerbating the confusion. No doubt, they were lost in the boxes.
“Indeed,” Ran politely did not comment on that faux pas, deciding to jump straight to business, “Has Keine-sensei deigned to release the Human Village yet? Or will she leave their history hidden?”
“She looked at me as if I was mad when I asked,” Morichika-san answered. Crossing his arms, he tilted his head back in resignation, “I couldn’t blame her either. These lands are as dangerous as the Sengoku era. More so with the advancements of lethality with human and inhuman creativity. Not to mention the Shards of those creatures.”
“Pity,” Ran huffed, pouting just a bit, “Having the Child of Miare’s aid or even simply the Gensokyo Chronicle would make the rebirth of Gensokyo that much easier.”
“While I’m certain it would be easier, it’s too much of a risk at this point of time,” Morichika sighed, “...Any hints of the lost souls?”
“...I have reason to suspect that the youngest of those cursed nine holds the good Doctor’s spirit”
Standing up to organize the boxes, Morichika-san clicked his tongue. “Ah, the same problem as the Fool’s lost power. Too high-profile to retrieve.”
“Quite. Retrieving that soul will draw their attention too soon as would the missing portion of the Fool’s power. We still have to hide from those… beings of fractured logic,” Ran dropped the air of playfulness and glared with authority, Do not tell the residents of the Eientei my theories.”
“Already forgotten, Lady Ran. Already forgotten,” the Shopkeeper waved a hand in the air. He shifted a box and jolted when something cracked. Opening it up, he sighed in disappointment.
Morichika-san was good about discretion, so Ran simply nodded before moving on, “What is the status of Youkai Mountain?”
“Officially, preparing to return, but Shameimaru-san tells me that the Great Tengu refuses to set roots down until Leviathan is slain. At least they’ve opened up communications again though,” Morichika-san motioned to the array of boxes littering the shop, “I should have their domain in one of these boxes, but…”
But it was a mess. Ran hardly needed a reminder of how… unordered Morichika-san was right now. She sipped on a porcelain teacup while the tea kettle Morichika-san had used to brew was an English-styled one to say nothing of the coffee mug he had been using for his own. A skilled craftsman, a theoretically decent salesman, orderly was something the owner of the Kourindou was most definitely not.
“Disappointing,” Ran commented on the character of the tengu’s leader, “but as expected of that coward. We cannot depend on the assistance of the Gods of Moriya until the Mountain returns then.” Ran sipped her tea. Green tea, a homely reminder of home, “Scarlet Devil Mansion?”
“Still in stasis. Only the Maid can release them.”
Hidden in her sleeve, Ran clenched a fist, “We missed our chance when Gray Boy died.”
“Peace, Lady Ran, we will find them again. It’s only a matter of…” he smiled softly, “time.”
Giggling softly, Ran admonished, “Terrible pun, Shopkeeper-san.”
“Something small to smile about is still something to smile upon,” Morichika-san smiled before straightening up,“ “How are Myouren Temple and the Mausoleum of Dreams?”
“Still wandering about the globe on their Paladin Ship, still strangely allied in their search for their leaders. Last I checked, they had just rounded about Africa and were about to head north through Europe to India.”
Ran thought they were hoping to go to the land that birthed Buddhism in an effort to call for the Priest. She wished them luck. The more things that were lost from Gensokyo were found, the easier time they would have, clawing back the things that were stolen from Gensokyo.
“Well, those two factions’ rivalry always was a bit of a farce,” Morichika-san nodded as he rummaged through a box. He appeared to be, “...The Moon?”
“Still, the Moon. What of the other realms?”
Snapping his fingers, Morichika-san called forth two mirrors, one darkened with obscurity, the other brightened with clarity, ”Makai, the Dream World, and the Hells are already here, but even with Shinkagami and Yamikagami aiding the broadcasts, I cannot gain a line of communication with them. We have given and responded to one another’s hails, but that’s all that can be done at this point. We are only aware of one another.”
“Awareness is enough,” Ran said, hoping that would, in fact, be enough, “The lack of clarity in our communications is to be expected. Those realms were always closer to the side of fantasy, and this world’s ignorant and cold logic prevents them from connecting properly. When Gensokyo begins to reform, the connection will strengthen. For now, simply continue to reach out to them. Act as a beacon.”
“What am I, Renku?” Morichika-san grumbled as he continued to attempt to discern which boxes were which, “I already have several projects that need to be done as per your earlier requests. Repairing and maintaining the various artifacts and Tsukumogami, guarding the domains entrusted to me, I have so many things to do and not enough hands to do them,” he sighed and looked forlornly upwards, “It would be easier with that Fool’s ability to be heard anywhere, anytime.”
If only the Fool was whole, if only his mind not scattered, if only the Doctor could help, if only she was not captured, if only Lady Yukari was here, if only this had not happened, if only this could be done, if only, if only,” Lady Ran tittered dismissively, “We could while away a hundred years whispering if onlys. Simply continue to do what you’ve done, Shopkeeper-san.”
“I never said I’d stop, Lady Ran,” the Shopkeeper grumbled reproachfully, shifting one box onto the other in a haphazard attempt at organization, “I only lamented in idleness. I have not given up yet, nor will I. I’d thank you to at least recognize the difficulty of my tasks though.”
“...Apologies,” the Kitsune gave a half-incline of the head, “And thank you.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Morichika-san waved a hand, “You’re welcome. Still, give me whatever tasks need to be done, and I shall endeavor to complete them as soon as possible.”
“Indeed, I shall continue my part of the search then,” Ran bowed her head. A split of intent and a slit in reality opened up, tied by shimenawa. Preparing to step through, the kitsune paused, “...Any signs of Lady Yakumo yet? Or the others?”
“No, not yet,” Morichika-san sipped his tea, long cold from the length of their discussion, “But the Yamaxanadu did say their souls were sleeping. It's simply a matter of rousing their memories.” He looked to the artifacts stored safely behind the myriad number of seals.
Following his gaze, Ran nodded. Those tools had once awoken to become Tsukumogami, only settling into idle item-hood out of love for their master’s wishes. Given half-a-chance, Ran had no doubt that the memories could easily be re-awoken with the right triggers and reminders.
“The problem is finding them,” the Shikigami of the Youkai of Boundaries sighed. The crux of the problem. Finding things in the right order at the right time and just… The problem was finding things.
…No use in idling about then. TIme to return to her part of this game of Hide-and-Seek. Hands in sleeves, she left a final bow, opening up a gap behind her, “Till next we dream then, Shopkeeper-san.”
“Till next we dream,” the Shopkeeper returned.
As the Gap closed in her departure, Ran wondered as to what part the little snoop of a weasel would play in the coming moons. She supposed that would have to be a decision the boy chose for himself.
For now, Ran thought as she stepped out of the space of the Gap and onto the territory of a sad facsimile of the Yakuza territories, she would have to rehabilitate a dragon drowning his sorrows in extravagance.
---
As the kitsune disappeared, Rinnosuke forced himself to at least begin unstacking the boxes. It had been… difficult, so very difficult to keep moving forward. Losing Gensokyo, losing the Kourindou, losing… them, losing so many things so suddenly and so quick, Rinnosuke had found himself on the verge of simply letting himself fade.
It was only that far-fetched promise that the last Transmission the Fool had made, the desperate play by those Scientists to escape Gensokyo’s gasping destruction, the idea that Gensokyo could be rebuilt that kept Rinnosuke going.
Even then, without Lady Ran planning and pushing forward, without the burden of having to safeguard and maintain the Artifacts that would call back the lost, Rinnosuke found it hard to keep moving forward
What strange blessing, what a terrible curse, to have duty.
Still, passivity and neutrality was his truest trade at the end of the day. The Kourindou may have been a Used-Goods store and most (All) of Gensokyo used him as a handyman, but Rinnosuke liked to think that was because he was so boring that nobody really bothered him.
If staying in one place and waiting for the Lost to come find the remnants of Gensokyo was to be his duty, Rinnosuke would make sure that there would be a place for them to come.
Unstacking the last of the boxes, Rinnosuke nodded in satisfaction. Strewn about the floor, there were still paths to walk through. Over the next week, he would have to begin assembling the shelves, sequester away the Artifacts, hide the Sealed Domains, build the backroom, build the secret room of the backroom, and finally begin sorting and displaying his wares, but today, Rinnosuke unstacked the boxes.
It was even possible, sort-of, to walk through them. There were little paths and corners to turn through, and it’d be a nightmare walking through the box-maze in the middle of the night, but the boxes were unstacked and…
Good enough. Time for a tea break.
BUt first… to shoo away the final pest. Why Lady Ran had let this one stay, but not the others was a mystery. Rinnosuke didn’t care too much to find out. Today had been tiring, the first day in a long process of moving and unpacking and organizing and… Rinnosuke was exhausted thinking about all the myriad little tasks of opening up his new Kourindou and simply wanted to be alone.
He was still inordinately proud that he had unstacked the boxes. Very good on himself if he did say so himself.
“You can come out now, little weasel,” Rinnosuke called out to the table in the corner, “The big, bad fox is gone.”
A small yelp, a thud against the bottom of the table, and the child tumbled out rubbing his head with a groan. Linking his fingers together, Rinnosuke sighed. This was going to be… draining to say the least
“Uh.. Hi, Mister… Shopkeeper-san,” the child greeted, “I just… walked on by! And thought I’d check out this…. Shop! This shop. That… Sells things!”
…This child lied just as horrible a liar as the Black-White Witch with none of the charm or cheek. Despite the lack of charm and cheek, Rinnosuke had to force back that feeling of nostalgia. Small children being in places they shouldn’t be and then lying about it should not invoke a feeling of wry amusement.
“Strange place to ‘check out a shop’ ,” Rinnosuke raised an eyebrow at the table the boy had just crawled out from under, “And I have no sign yet that declares this to be a shop.”
Pursing his lips, giving it a lick, the boy had the audacity to grin as he replied, “You have that aura.”
Small children with little sense for danger seemed to continued to be Rinnosuke’s weakness. Why was he cursed to aid small children who clearly saw the danger ahead and took only a moment’s breath to prepare before rushing in with gleeful aplomb?
No more though. Not this time. Not after so many had been lost in that final Incident of Old Gensokyo.
“Your attempts to misdirect are adorable,” Rinnosuke drawled, “You can call me Mister Morichika or Morichika-san. -San is an honorific that serves the same purpose as Mister. Using both is simply redundant.”
“Oh, cool. Cool. Cool. Cool,” the child stammered. Then, without a trace of that previous nervousness, asked “...Can I still buy something?”
“No. I’m not open yet,” Rinnosuke informed. He steeled himself before continuing, lowering his face to catch the light in just the right way to white out the lenses, “I shall give you a piece of advice and a warning in the same breath now. You best forget all that you heard just now. If you do recall, recall them only as the meaningless stories of bygone tales. To overhear once is an accident, to return to listen again is an agreement to participate.”
“Gotcha. Nice. Confirmed,” the child nodded three times, one for each word.
Rinnosuke dearly wanted to comment on that strange parlance, but he had enough of people today. He waved a hand in clear dismissal, “You may go.”
When there was no ting-a-ling of departure, Rinnosuke tried his best to focus on continuing his unboxing. He gave up, setting the box he had been working on aside and glaring at the child.
Smiling brightly in the manner of somebody knowing they have long overstayed their welcome, the weasel asked, “Shouldn’t you tell me to come back?”
“...Why?”
“Because you’re a shopkeeper, Mr. Morichika,” the child smiled, nodding his head with childish certainty, “And I want to buy something from here!”
“You don’t even know what I sell,” Rinnosuke sighed. The Blessing of Tongues was working, right? Yes, it was. Why did this small child not leave then!? “No matter. Just go. This is a dangerous matter.”
“But--”
“I did you a favor, letting you pass beneath the notice of the Shikigami of the Lady of Gaps. I am not so patient to do so again,” Rinnosuke scowled. Slipping his hands into his sleeves, he lowered his face to have his glasses glint menacingly. Drawing all of his meager power, he forced the best display of supernatural might he could, “Three times warned, three times told to depart, even the Buddha would lose patience after three times forgiving.”
Finally, finally, the child fled, backpack bouncing up and down as he scurried away like a little weasel. As the ting-a-ling faded, Rinnosuke slumped into a chair with a sigh. Good Gods, that was tiring. He was a craftsman, not a battle maniac like the rest of his Danmaku-obsessed guests. An awkward display like that took quite a bit out of himself.
He looked around and sighed. His shop was a mess. His shop was usually a mess, but this mess was the moving-in day mess that needed to be sorted out.
…But he was so tired. Bah, he had a week before he had to officially open up the shop. It was time for a break Rinnosuke decided as he reached for that accursed mottled six-colored cube. One of the few things to survive Old Gensokyo, Rinnosuke had not been able to solve it for a decade, but he had a good feeling about this attempt.
