“Patchouli, are you there?” I asked the crystal as soon as I was outside the potty port at the Fantastic Blowhole. We really needed better names for things.

I took to the air at speed, half to run away from the place where Marisa might appear, half to run toward Patchouli. I’d just had fifteen minutes of floating through Okina’s cherry-red alternate realm to consider the librarian’s relative silence during the last half of my expedition, and the fact that she’d been exhausted before the end of stage two on every expedition before this.

The agonizing part was worrying for the latter fourteen minutes after I’d had the insight that Patchouli was struggling.

“Busy,” came Patchouli’s reply. Her telepathically-projected voice was tense.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Lady Byakuren and Nazrin are taking me back to the Scarlet Devil Mansion.”

“Wait… Lady Byakuren?” What did the black and white monk have to do with anything?

“Mister Deshpande preemptively called for backup on Marisa.” I heard a strained laugh. “He's the head of police, but it’s Marisa. He thought our spat might turn into an illegal danmaku battle.”

“That, uh, wouldn’t happen.” I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but despite her antagonistic words Marisa hadn’t just challenged me to fight, so I was feeling charitable.

“--he hear me?” asked Hijiri over the psychic connection.

“He can now.”

"The path to enlightenment requires compassion for all beings - including yourself and those close to you,” Hijiri said. “When we allow others to harm themselves for our benefit, we become complicit in their suffering.”

“Pardon?”

“You’ve let Miss Knowledge overextend herself in the pursuit of your goals.” Just what I needed: moral condemnation from a murderous Buddhist. “Consider: would you ask an injured bird to fly, that it might carry your messages? Would you demand a fragile flower open at every daybreak?” I knew rationally that Byakuren didn’t do euphemisms. “Miss Knowledge's determination is admirable, but compelling her self-destructive tendencies serves no-one.”

“I am not compelled,” said Patchouli.

“Perhaps not with danmaku, but none-the-less, Mister Thorne is inflicting an injustice.”

“No, I meant that your argument is bogus. Jake’s not responsible for my health. I am.”

That was a ballsy thing to say to a woman literally carrying you to safety, I thought. There was a moment of silence.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll be busy resting,” said Patchouli.

“I could battle you to charge you up.”

“That won’t be necessary. Let us regroup tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure,” I said as I landed to walk for a bit.

I was suppressing a frown until I remembered that Patchouli wasn’t at the Scrydome anymore, so the crystal wasn’t in projecting mode. Then I frowned with abandon, and even let my brow knit. I’d visited Patchouli every day that week to do a strengthening danmaku battle with her (among other things). That she didn’t want to see me was upsetting, and a little confusing.

“By the way,” said Patchouli, “Sasha and Arnold checked in. They’re at the Moriya Shrine. Lady Suwako demanded that they stay the night for his cleansing.” You could really count on the magician. Even while she was returning to the Scarlet Devil Mansion in exhaustion, she’d taken the time to call and check on my roommates.

“Ominous,” I said. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Miss Moriya promises she won’t kill him.”

“That’s good.”

“We’ve arrived at the mansion, so I’m going to end the connection.”

“Patchouli, I…”

“Yes?” asked the librarian.

I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I was sorry for straining her; I was grateful for her help and consideration; I wish I could help her more. She was important to me, and to the mission.

I noticed that I did not want to tell her that she should stop helping us on the expeditions… even if she probably should, for her own sake. I put a hand to my mouth.

“Thank you.” I went with something simple and fast, since she was tired and needed rest.

“You’re welcome.”

—

I went back to the dorm and met up with Wiki. He launched into an explanation of his thoughts about my run. I interrupted him to tell him about Arnold and Sasha, and we ended up talking about that instead.

“That makes me nervous,” he said. “Lady Moriya is a liar.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked as I collapsed onto our bench. Emeff was squawking.

Nobody had let our chicken out for several hours. Wiki had his papers out and probably didn’t want Emeff to make a mess on them. I noticed that he’d at least topped up her grain and water bins. I pulled myself to my feet.

“Lady Moriya promised to kill you, then didn’t,” he said. “Her assurances aren’t worth a lot.”

“That’s some weak reasoning,” I told him as I released Emeff and herded her to the side of the room where she wouldn’t ruin his papers. It was too cold to take her for a walk. “She had to make me think she’d kill me for the cleansing to work in the first place.”

“True,” he said. “Either way, we know the gods lie in Gensokyo when it serves their goals.”

“So?”

“So she might promise to spare Arnold, then change her mind. We agree that she’d kill a human if it was an expedient solution to her problem?”

I nodded. “You don’t think she’ll do that in Arnold’s case, do you?”

“No,” he said. “I think she’ll excise most of his sense of touch instead, just as she excised your sense of smell.”

I considered that.

“That’s clever,” I admitted. “It seems fitting, considering that Yuyuko possesses him for the sensations. It also disincentivizes her from continuing to do it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Wiki.

“I told you that Suwako denied being responsible for my loss of smell, right?”

He shrugged. “She’s lying for whatever reason. It coincided too perfectly with your cleansing.”

“And why not Arnold’s sense of taste?” I asked. It seemed like cooking was also important to my roommate’s weird relationship with a ghost.

“Taste is just your sense of smell in disguise,” he replied. “If you both lost that, it would imply things about youkai transformations that I don’t think are true, namely that they are repeatable alterations to specific brain regions. Sasha’s sacrifice would have been her sense of smell as well, if that were true.”

“Wait, Sasha sacrificed something?” I asked. That would explain why he thought that Suwako was lying about my own loss. “What was it?”

“Her addiction to cigarettes,” he said. “It disappeared a day or two after her cleansing.”

“That’s not fair,” I replied. “Suwako just did her a favor!”

He shrugged. “I think you mean Miss Kochiya.”

Wiki was right: Sasha hadn’t needed as deep of a cleansing as Arnold or myself, despite having some physical symptoms. The shrine maiden had done the cleansing at the festival, instead of the god at the shrine.

“I’m surprised Sasha noticed she no longer had the cravings,” I said.

“She had mixed feelings about it,” said Wiki. “I don’t blame her. Just letting someone reach in and change how your mind works is unsettling, even if it is something you’d change about yourself if you could.”

“Still. I don’t miss my sense of smell as much as I’d thought I would.” It kind of blew my mind that Sasha could look that gift horse in the mouth, and miss her craving for cigarettes. “It doesn’t make any sense for a cleansing to just get rid of an inconvenient addiction,” I added.

“Perhaps the addiction was cleansed alongside her youkai nature,” said Wiki as he adjusted his glasses. “Not a sacrifice; just another thing that was being cleansed.”

“… okay, that does make sense in a weird sort of way. But then, my sense of smell wasn’t ‘cleansed,’ right?”

“Perhaps it was,” said Wiki. “Gods are capricious. That’s why much of my probability for Arnold’s fate is in ‘something else.’ I hope for his sake she doesn’t make him impotent, for example, but that would be my second guess.”

We contemplated that.

“Losing your sense of touch is worse, right?” I asked. “It contains most of the downsides of being impotent?”

“I’m not really sure,” he replied. “I’m confident that Arnold would rather be numb than non-functional, and that if anyone could remain functional while numb, it would be him.”

“Are we really discussing our roommate’s junk right now?” I asked him with a chuckle. Wiki didn’t look amused. “Let’s talk about my expedition instead.”

“Good plan.”

“What’d you think about Satori’s pets? Isn’t it like a zoo down there?” Minus the bars, I thought.

“Laboratory, you mean,” said Wiki.

“Pardon?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Laboratory.” I asked him to elaborate. “It’s obvious that Satori is doing experiments to try to create other sources of danmaku, sources that don’t originate from humans. She is doing a widespread uplift to deal with the human shortage. Now that Lady Yakumo is missing she has to accelerate her plans.” Wiki tapped his forehead to underscore the cleverness of this explanation.

“That… is not obvious,” I said.

“Try to keep up. If they can’t get more humans, they’ll need animals to fill the niche.”

“It really doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t make any sense that she’d want to find a source of emotion that is not human?” asked Wiki.

“No, I mean, I don’t think that’s what she’s doing. Satori loves animals, for one thing, and would uplift them anyway.” Emeff made a mess on the floor. I grabbed a rag to clean it up. “I’ve talked to her about it. And the animals love her, too. Especially the abandoned ones, because she can know what they are thinking even when their original owners failed to meet their needs.”

Wiki nodded. “That’s the canon reason for their presence. And sure, maybe that’s part of why they are drawn to her. However, in the games there aren’t nearly so many animals in the Palace of Earth Spirits, and they don’t use danmaku to attack the player. It’s vengeful spirits instead.”

“I think that’s another limitation of Zun’s game design.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “The point is that you can’t pick and choose what parts of canon to apply. Either the animals can’t use danmaku and are just pets, or they’re possibly more than pets and can use danmaku. And we’ve observed that they can do danmaku.”

“I’m not going on canon, I’m going on what Satori told me.”

“I see an underground facility full of chimeras acting like humans, I think it’s a laboratory,” said Wiki with a shrug.

“Satori said she was working for Yukari for money to buy food for her pets,” I added. “Heck, she wants us to battle them and feed them. They are a net negative for her in terms of emotional power.”

“Most programs aren’t profitable right away,” he said.

“C’mon, man, it’s not a laboratory. It’s a sanctuary.”

Wiki didn’t meet my eyes. That was him agreeing to disagree. I found it annoying, but it beat the alternative, which was hours of arguing in circles. He was very capable of that, so I tried to be grateful.

“Anyway,” he said. “You’re visiting your ‘friend’ tonight, aren’t you?”

—

Sekibanki wordlessly led me away from Misty Lake. I followed her into the freezing snow-filled darkness. We continued to avoid Human Town and the scrutiny of a tired and undoubtedly bad-tempered Marisa.

Marisa got in the way of everything. Sekibanki stepped quickly. She always walked fast, but I almost had to fly to keep up.

“Are we going somewhere specific?” I asked. “The tree again?” Sekibanki’s head spun in place, whipping her scarves around and making me jump. I nearly bumped into her.

“You and Patchouli,” she said. I involuntarily tilted my head. It was a shocking thing for her to say.

“What about… us?” My heart was beating hard, like it had during the first several times I’d met her, back when I’d thought I was in genuine danger.

“You are an item,” she said. “A… relationship. A physical relationship.”

“I mean–yeah,” I said. Sekibanki was jealous? Of my relationship with Patchouli? I’d never thought I had a shot with Sekibanki!

And if I had once had a shot with her, my heart would break. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Sekibanki was a youkai, the most wild one I interacted with on a regular basis. Her human-like emotions were fragile, rare, and worth protecting. I felt awful for carelessly hurting her feelings, in fact, the awfulness of that possibility threatened to overwhelm me.

I didn’t know what to say to her. Should I apologize? Should we have some sort of confrontation? Sekibanki turned and continued to walk. I hastened to keep up.

“Are you alright?” I asked. The least I could do was let her express herself, even if it took the form of anger against me for choosing another.

“Patchouli is turning you into a youkai so that your power may grow,” said Sekibanki. “I had hoped you’d come to me for assistance like that. Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you!” I said. “And hold on a second. She’s not turning me into a youkai!”

Sekibanki’s head tilted. She was walking away from me with her head on backwards. “Are you not fornicating regularly?” My face blossomed scarlet.

“Yeah, but we use protection.” Sekibanki’s head tilted even further, almost sideways.

“I notice I am confused,” she said, borrowing one of my phrases.

“That makes two of us!”

“What is the point of sex with a youkai and protection?” asked Sekibanki. “You realize that you cannot impregnate her, and doubly so?”

My mouth opened, then closed.

“It should not be a difficult question,” she persisted. Sekibanki had a scowl on her face. “Tell me why you fornicate!”

“You’d think it’d be obvious,” I said. “Give me a moment to come up with an answer.”

Sekibanki’s head turned back around. She continued to lead me through the darkness, but at a more manageable pace. I thought about how I’d explain to an alien that sex wasn’t just for reproduction or seeking power.

After several seconds of thinking, my main conclusion was that I felt immense relief that Sekibanki’s priorities remained alien and inscrutable. Perhaps I had hurt her feelings, but it wasn’t for the obvious human reasons I’d assumed, and it probably wasn’t as severe as I’d thought, either. I could calm her down.

“Do you know why humans use protection in the first place?”

“To prevent pregnancy and sexually-transmitted diseases while practicing for genuine reproduction,” she said.

“I mean… that’s half-right,” I said. “It’s not really practice, though.”

“Okay. Is it also to drain their partners of impulses that might lead them to other potential partners? Without pregnancy, until convenient?”

“That’s only right if your partner is a sociopath,” I said.

“You are fornicating with a youkai,” she reminded me. Sekibanki rubbed her chin and grumbled. “I didn’t think Patchouli would care about other partners, or want children.”

“I don’t think she does,” I said, even though I cared, and Marisa Kirisame probably did, which really put a spotlight on how fucked up Patchouli’s polycule was.

“Then why are you having sex?”

“It’s because it feels good,” I told her. “That’s it.”

Sekibanki continued to rub her chin. “I don’t believe you.”

“What!”

How could she not believe sex felt good? Was she implying that I was a bad lover, or that Patchouli was? Sekibanki had to have some idea of it being desirable, because she knew that humans could be tricked into danger while seeking it!

It occurred to me that Sekibanki had probably never consummated any of her attacks on humans using that method. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “Masturbating is simpler and without risk.”

“How the heck do you know what masturbation is without understanding that sex is pleasurable?” I asked her.

Sekibanki threw up her hands. “Look, I don’t understand everything that I’ve heard of humans doing!”

She ducked under the bough of an immense tree. It was the same one from before, with a rock that protected us from the wind, and perhaps more importantly, branches and snowfall that protected us from youkai with the ability to see extraordinarily far.

The alcove was buried by snow on most sides. I followed her in, and we ended up sitting opposite each other and as far apart as possible. We were less than three feet apart.

“Are you saying that sex is that much better than masturbation?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said.

“So much better that you’d risk curses, a monstrous transformation, and the wrath of the second most powerful human in Gensokyo instead of taking care of it yourself?”

“Yes, exactly,” I said. She stared at me from where she sat next to the rock. Sekibanki undid some of her scarves; she’d worked up a sweat.

“I would only risk that much if it was for power,” she said. “Except that makes no sense, because if you wanted power you could just come to me!”

“T-thank you?” I said. “You mean turning into a youkai, right?”

“Of course,” she said. “That’s why I think you’re making excuses and lying to me. Patchouli has turned you into a youkai so that you might remain powerful. That is why you continue to excel at danmaku and advance further on your expeditions. I can feel the power thrumming through you, Jake!”

“No,” I said. “I’m just a human now.”

“Then where does your power come from?” asked Sekibanki with exasperation. More of her heads had shown up and were settling on the ground nearby. “And don’t lie to me and say you’re that strong without help!”

I sighed. “This has to remain a secret.”

She nodded vigorously from multiple directions. I told her about how Suwako was loaning power to me, and that this was completely incidental to my relationship with Patchouli. She listened to me with a flat expression.

I wondered how Sekibanki had figured that out in the first place. She must have heard about Patchouli and me from a youkai that watched the live stream, although even then, I had thought that there had been a level of plausible deniability. Which fairy was smart enough to know why Marisa would be jealous? Had Sekibanki secretly watched from afar?

“So after my cleansing Suwako began to lend me her power,” I said. “It was very convenient.”

Sekibanki nodded. “She did this because the artifact underground is an irritant, and she wants you to eliminate it.” Her voice became lower and calmer. “I should have guessed.”

“Oh, so you understand that immediately.”

“Of course,” she said. “All gods want pawns to move the world. Suwako is a god of the Earth; her domain is under attack.”

“Just so.”

“Let me guess: she’s keeping it secret so that others don’t beseech her for boons?” I nodded. “You realize that the wellspring of Moriya’s power will evaporate the moment that you complete her quest?”

“Fine by me,” I said. Sekibanki gave me a look of pity.

“You are being used, Jake. Does it not bother you?”

“I’m achieving my own goals at the same time,” I said. “That’s all I really want.”

“What about after this expedition?” she added. “Will you have no need for power then?”

“I can always look for another source of power.”

“A foolish optimism,” she said, shaking her head.

“Look, Sekibanki, are you still upset?” It may not matter whether I’d had sex with someone else, but I’d gotten power from someone else.

She leaned back. “I suppose not. But I’d like a promise from you, so that this doesn’t happen again in the future.”

“What’s that? I can’t promise to tell you all my secrets.” I shouldn’t have told her about Suwako, I thought, although I was glad to see her composure recover.

“Of course not. Just promise me that if you change your mind about being a youkai–perhaps because Suwako stops lending her power to you–then you will come to me first, okay? I will be the one to help you become a youkai?” Sekibanki stared into my eyes. Her irises were blood red and earnest.

I nodded. “Okay. I promise. Er, but why?”

“Because I don’t want you to turn into the wrong kind of youkai,” she said. Sekibanki leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “I can help you, Jake. Help you keep your impulses in check. Help guide you toward greater heights, without you accidentally forgetting what matters to you. I have already made that journey myself, and it terrifies me that you might make it on your own, inexpertly. You might become someone that you don’t want to be. Someone else entirely.”

Why would that be bad to her, I wondered? Perhaps because she’d also gone through that, when she’d been forced to change upon entering Gensokyo? And she didn’t want to see me suffer the same? That sounded an awful lot like empathy.

“You’d do that because you care about me,” I said.

“Your emotions right now are repulsive,” she responded. Sekibanki fed on fear and negative feelings; my admiration for her was literally sickening to her. Despite that, she was blushing. “So are mine, if I think about it. But yes. I care about you, as disgusting as that is.”

Sekibanki didn’t care whether I was sleeping with Patchouli, or indeed, whether Suwako gave me power. She just wanted to help me. I was touched, especially because this compassion came from a monster that barely knew what compassion was.

“Okay,” I said. “Well, if Suwako ever stops loaning me power and I decide to become a youkai for real, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

“Good.” She let go of my hand and started tightening her scarves. “Let us walk.”

“A lot’s happened this week,” I said as we left the secrecy of the tree’s alcove. Soon we’d have a danmaku battle, just like old times. I felt my emotions settling down.

I started telling Sekibanki about all the things that had occurred at the Scrydome and with the oni. She nodded along. I asked her about Satori’s farm, which might actually be a laboratory.

“Satori is a very human-like youkai,” said Sekibanki. She chuckled. “Just like Patchouli.”

“Does that mean she is or is not experimenting on animals…?”

“Humans do things for more than one reason,” said Sekibanki.

“I see.” It was a wise position to take. Why wouldn’t Satori also experiment on her beloved pets? It might not be a contradiction to her at all.

My blood-sucking youkai companion had stopped in a clearing in the woods. It was time to battle. I walked ahead.

“Well,” I said. “Ready?” She nodded. I spread my wings wide and opened fire.

I tried to fly and couldn’t. After a few red vectors, I stopped producing danmaku, too.

“Is something wrong, Jake?” asked Sekibanki.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “Already?”