Sekibanki and I sat together on the bench late at night. I had my notebook out. It had made our sessions a lot more efficient, although reading and writing in the dark was difficult.

“I don’t know anything about projecting information,” said Sekibanki. “Nor why the Great Librarian would be interested in it.”

“Wiki thought they might be trying to decide which of the martial artists to eat,” I said.

She shrugged. “Youkai have a good intuition about this. I don’t think it’d be hard to choose. I’d probably start with the biggest, if I were a vampire, or the one that happened to be nearest.” Her head turned around on her neck–all the way around–which let me know that she was getting bored. I’d already asked most of the important questions, without getting much useful information.

“Well,” I said. “My next question is about Cirno.”

“The ice fairy,” she said, flatly. “What is the relevance of the ice fairy?”

“She can read.” Sekibanki stared at me. “I’m trying to teach a different fairy to read, so that Sakuya will teach me to fly, so that I can be better at dodging and therefore better at danmaku.”

“Ah,” she said. “Flight is essential. That is true.”

“So I have good reasons to ask about Cirno.”

“You expect teaching a fairy to read to take less time than the decades that magicians spend studying flight.”

“Yeah, essentially.” I didn’t like the dubious tone of her voice. I also hoped that Sakuya and I wouldn’t have to spend decades with time stopped, but I was willing to time-chamber myself if necessary. “Is there any reason why Cirno might be unusual among fairies?”

“She’s strong,” said Sekibanki. “Stupid, but strong. About as strong as you can be while still being a fairy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fairies are nature spirits,” said Sekibanki. “They are associated with aspects of nature; the way light falls in the forest, or the way the sky looks at night. You might say that they feed on nature, even. Feed on the things that embody them, although it is human belief that ultimately sustains them.”

“And what, ‘ice’ is a powerful aspect of nature?” I wrote all of this down, so that Wiki and I could go over it later. He’d assume I’d overheard the information in the Mansion, not that I’d gotten it from a youkai at night.

“Yes. It is a prominent phenomenon in Gensokyo, of great concern to humanity.”

“I haven’t seen any ice,” I said.

“You haven’t climbed the mountain,” countered Sekibanki. “And the seasons have not passed, not since you came here.”

“Fair enough.” We were getting toward autumn; perhaps there’d be snow before long.

“A nature spirit’s power will wax and wane with the seasons. Letty Whiterock is an example of that.” Wiki had told me about her recently; she was a youkai of winter that disappeared during the summer. “That is why Cirno is unusual. She decided that being weak wasn’t for her, in any season.”

“I can empathize,” I said, about the most stupid character in Touhou. “So, she did something to get stronger?”

“She is not just a fairy of ice. She has also claimed ‘strength’ as an aspect, itself. That is why she’s so powerful. For a fairy.”

“Aren’t fairies all about dominance contests?” I asked.

“I suppose,” said Sekibanki.

“In that case, claiming ‘strength’ is a super munchkin thing to do.”

“Are munchkins a type of fey?” asked Sekibanki.

“N–maybe?” I explained what it meant to ‘munchkin’ things to Sekibanki: looking for easy, creative ways to exploit rules. “A good munchkin will look at a system and see an interaction of things that can be exploited, just like Satoshi with Bitcoin, or most isekai protagonists in chapter two.”

“I see,” said Sekibanki. I’d told Sekibanki about the isekai genre, and how it felt like I was in one. “When was your ‘chapter two’?”

“I don’t know, I probably still haven’t gotten to it.”

“‘Munchkining’ sounds like a hamfisted, direct approach.”

“If it works, it works. Cirno’s trick is more like domain-name squatting, now that I think about it.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said. “So, by choosing this aspect she deliberately empowered herself… but I thought you said that youkai couldn’t choose their nature?”

“They can’t,” said the rokurokubi in a harsh tone. “Cirno’s lucky that she continued to manifest at all. It wasn’t a subtle or fitting change. I suspect that is why she is so misshapen.”

“She seemed pretty normal-looking to me,” I said, remembering when we met her on our first day in Gensokyo.

“Have you seen her wings?” asked Sekibanki. She waved her arms. “They look like ice!”

“So?”

“They’re not even attached!” I watched her head float briefly away from her neck.

“I’m still not seeing a problem.”

Sekibanki sighed. “Unusual body parts are the sign of unstable youkai.”

“Lots of youkai have weird parts,” I said.

“Lots of youkai are unstable.”

“But what about…” I tried to think of examples. Actually, many youkai were just like pretty women in elaborate costumes, when I thought about it. “What about Satori’s third eye, or Reisen’s rabbit ears?”

Sekibanki shook her head. “The deformity may not be obvious to you, because you don’t know what is normal and what isn’t. Satori’s third eye is expected, but Koishi’s closed eye is another example of a deformity.”

That tracked. In the lore, it had happened because she had tried to stop reading minds. Her attempt to change herself had worked, and she’d lost that ability, but she’d gotten a bunch of other strange powers instead.

I could be confident that Koishi wasn’t nearby, because I could still think about her.

“Sorry if this is rude…” I said, “Have you tried to change yourself, like that? Have you tried to claim a convenient aspect?”

“It doesn’t work that way for most youkai,” said Sekibanki. Her head lifted off her neck. It rotated around me. “Their mutability is part of why fairies are so weak. They correspond to nature; they have fickle aspects.” There were two heads orbiting me, all of a sudden. “But as a matter of fact, I did change upon coming to Gensokyo, and not in ways I found pleasant.”

There were four heads by then. I wasn’t as afraid as I would have been, weeks before.

“Ugh,” said Sekibanki. One of her heads landed back on her neck, and the others flew off. “I might have to change again, in the future. I’m not looking forward to it.”

“I mean, change can be good.”

“If you survive,” she said. “I didn’t, when I came to Gensokyo.”

“W–what?”

“I’m not the same youkai. The rokurokubi that accepted Yukari’s offer is dead; I am a new monster.” She looked up at the stars. “I can’t remember things very well from before, except an overwhelming dread that was entirely founded. I’m lucky I manifested again at all; it was a close thing.”

It made me think my own immigration to Gensokyo had been a walk in the park. I just had to stand on a septic tank and nod.

“This reminds me,” she said. “Thank you for helping Wakasagihime.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said. “Visiting the lake is easy.”

“It is not, when you forgo your other aspirations.” Sekibanki’s head swiveled around. “This conversation is disgusting, so I’m going to keep it brief. Part of the reason I’m being so forthright is to repay you; you aren’t asking about danmaku all that much, these nights.”

“I see,” I said.

“Don’t forget it.” Don’t forget that she wasn’t nice in other circumstances, she meant. Niceness wasn’t what it meant to be Sekibanki. And yet… I couldn’t help but think that she was nice, and I liked knowing her.

“I won’t. Sorry that gratitude is in my nature.”

“It’s not in mine,” she said, “And neither is forgiveness. But apologies are irritating, so stop worrying about it. I can tolerate your gratitude.”

I looked over my notes. “Thanks for all the info. You know a lot about youkai.” Even Patchouli didn’t know this much about Cirno, and her name was Knowledge.

“Yes and no,” she said. “I’ve been putting a lot of things together, recently.”

“Oh? Learning a lot from the conversations you overhear?” She wasn’t very secretive about her spying habit. Her heads could detach and fly wherever she wanted. I was also starting to suspect she could make them go invisible. The head by the lake had matched the darkness of the surroundings.

What’s more, it was obvious that many of her questions arose from overhearing something she didn’t understand. She was spying constantly, and constantly asking complicated technical questions. It made me grateful I’d once had the opportunity to study a mostly-uncorrupted Wikipedia.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Yeah,” said the youkai. “The humans are becoming more conversant about their histories, and about the things they think they know about Gensokyo.” She looked at the sky again. “It’s almost my turn. Do you have any other questions?”

“Not for now.” I should have asked her how powerful the concept of a color was, or whether power itself was actually necessary to learn human contrivances like reading. Or how to stop drinking blood. There were a lot of things I didn’t think of until later.

“That’s good. I wish to learn about naming domains.”

“Oh, there is one other thing,” I said. “I think I already know your answer, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you want to go to a picnic?”

–

“I can’t go,” said Reika. Wiki and I were stopping by the bathhouse. “I’ve got work. Also, you can ask me on dates without help, can’t you?”

“I can’t go either,” said Wiki. “It’s because I want to live.”

“Oh yeah,” said Reika. “I’m glad you’re on that.”

“I figured I’d offer,” I said. “There will be free food from the Scarlet Devil Mansion.”

“I super duper can’t go,” added Wiki.

“Lady Remilia didn’t say she’d kill you herself!” I objected.

“It’s one way she could ensure her prophecy comes true! And also a convenient method to provide free food!”

“She won’t even be there!” Neither would Patchouli. Meiling had been ordered to attend, and Sakuya had promised to be on ‘standby’, whatever that meant, but the powerful members of the Scarlet Devil Mansion had better things to do.

“Is this a picnic for murderous youkai, or something?” asked Reika, with some concern.

“Fairies, actually,” I said. “We’re going to give them summoned vegetables.” I looked at Wiki with the last word.

“I could be turned into a vegetable.”

“I’ve tried to get the word out to all kinds of youkai,” I said. I’d even mentioned it to Miko and Hijiri, when I’d spotted them walking through the village and tearing down all of Wiki’s posters. “Not very many are interested, though.”

“It’s like you’re inviting adults to a children’s birthday party. Fairies are a bit cringe.” She looked to Wiki to see if she used the word from the Outside World correctly.

“Six of ten,” he said.

“Anyway, you need to make cooler friends. Only one of them is any good.”

“Aww,” said Wiki.

“Too bad she isn’t here.” Wiki was getting murdered already.

“Anyway, Reika, I’ve got another question for you, one that’s a little more… delicate.”

“What’s that?” asked the bathhouse receptionist. “We only have one kind of soap, sorry if it stings.”

“No, um, without naming names, have you seen any youkai with… weird body parts?”

She stared at me. “Youkai no longer bathe here, for the most part, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to divulge their secrets.” After a moment she laughed. “I should have known that was the type of lady that would catch your interest, Mister Thorne!”

“‘That’ type of lady?” asked Wiki.

“Yes. Ladies with a pe–”

“Actually, I’m trying to get some stats on youkai,” I said. “And settle a debate.”

“He has this implausible theory that youkai that alter the nature of their magic become deformed,” said Wiki.

He didn’t know I’d learned it from a youkai that was trustworthy. Well, informative, at least, and allied, probably. Okay, the main thing was that Sekibanki wasn’t a fairy, so she had no reason to lie in particular, but Wiki still didn’t know that.

It was frustrating that I’d learned something true and useful, and I couldn’t convince him of it at all.

“I can think of tons of youkai that might match his theory…” said Wiki, “But on the other hand, they might not. We had an argument about what’s normal.”

“You have those all the time,” she responded. When she went on her voice rose a little. “Wait a moment. You think I spy on people while they’re bathing?”

“We think you go to the women’s side of the bathhouse,” said Wiki, raising his hands.

“It used to be divided into human and youkai, you dummies!” She shook her head. “Rinnosuke was the only half-youkai that went to the human side, and he was completely normal… except for his perfectly-smooth skin.” I didn’t think that indicated he’d tried to change his nature, necessarily, unless it was with accutane and a razor. “He’s basically the only youkai who still comes here, now.”

For a moment I wondered about Rinnosuke choosing humans over youkai. Why not bathe with the women youkai, as the only male youkai in Gensokyo? On the other hand, I kind of got it. He might be a hot commodity among the monster women, or maybe they’d be disinterested, but they were all monster women and they were all more powerful than him. Being naked around them would make anyone uncomfortable, because they were dangerous.

Rinnosuke couldn’t fly, and never fought. Even I might be able to defeat him at danmaku at this point. Also, he didn’t really understand dirty magazines…

That was probably the real reason he didn’t go to the almost-entirely-female side.

“What about Youmu?” asked Wiki. “She’s also a half-youkai.”

“As far as weird body parts are concerned, you might have noticed her phantom half,” said Reika.

“Actually, we hadn’t,” I said.

“Ghosts are invisible,” said Wiki. “But not to you, apparently?”

“Huh…” said Reika. She was quiet for several seconds. “Maybe it was the steam that made it appear…?”

“So you have seen her naked!” said Wiki. He and his girlfriend had a weird relationship, I thought. “Konpaku Youmu’s body temperature is described in the lore as cooler than a human’s, whereas her phantom half is warmer than a typical phantom. Either way, it stands to reason that both her halves would cause some condensation.”

We all took a moment to imagine it.

“This entire conversation is improper and we should stop,” said Reika, bringing some sanity back. “How did you even come up with such a theory, Mister Thorne?” Someone came into the bathhouse. Reika took a few coins from the man and gave him a laundry ticket.

“Yeah, it’s not like you ever see them naked,” said Wiki.

“I overheard it from a youkai,” I said, hoping she would assume I meant at the Scarlet Devil Mansion, just like my roommates had, so that I wouldn’t have to lie. Maybe asking her had been a mistake. Fortunately, she didn’t probe.

Unfortunately, Wiki probed like a thermometer.

“Which youkai was it, again?” he asked.

“I’d rather not say,” I said, “In case it gets her into trouble.” The truth was the easiest lie.

“She’s probably messing with you.”

“Possibly,” I said, “But I don’t think so.”

“Fine,” he said. “It was a female youkai, so I know it wasn’t Rinnosuke. That narrows it down some.”

“You don’t know all the fairies,” I said, which was a technically-related statement. “It could be a youkai you’ve never heard about.” Also technically true; it could have been, even though it wasn’t.

“‘Not Rinnosuke,’ describes very many youkai,” said Reika. “All except for one, in fact.”

“Yeah, but Jake here only knows a handful, so Rinnosuke is a large percentage for him. If it was at the Scarlet Devil Mansion, that means it was probably a fairy like Maroon, but possibly Miss Knowledge, Miss Hong, or Miss Scarlet. You never actually stated it was at the Mansion, though, did you? So it could be Miss Komeiji or …” he scratched his head. “Miss Yakumo? Or maybe you went to the doctor because of a weird body part of your own, and Miss Yagokoro or Miss Undongein let something slip?”

I was relieved that Wiki’s crazy theorizing was leading him down rabbit holes, and not toward truth.

“Or maybe you finally met your crush, Miss Sekibanki, and she told you the secret.”

“What!” exclaimed Reika and I simultaneously. She gave me a confused look, and I chose to stare at Wiki instead, because Reika was probably a thousand times better at seeing through facial expressions.

“What makes you think it was Sekibanki of all people?” I asked.

“Well, you wanted her card, unlike any other,” said Wiki.

“Oh, those cringy things?” said Reika.

“Eight of ten,” said Wiki. “Also, you’re wrong, the cards are excellent and pure.”

“That people would crush on youkai still astounds me,” she said, shaking her head.

“I have the whole baseball set now, by the way,” Wiki added. “Everybody went after the MTG reskins, but I hope to profit later when that market cools and people expand their perceptions.”

I tried to think of a truth I could say that would reduce suspicion. “I was mostly doing that to keep in the spirit of trading, so you could have the other card.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense. There’s no way you’d befriend the only deadly youkai in the entire village.”

“That’d be pretty crazy,” I admitted. He turned to Reika.

“Is Sekibanki all that dangerous? I’ve been thinking of future vulnerabilities, and youkai local to the village are high on the list.”

Reika shook her head. “Just like… the house spirit, this is another youkai we shouldn’t discuss. I’ll say that there haven’t been any murders inside the village, as far as I know, but that might be because the villagers don’t go looking for trouble.” She put her hand on his. “Please don’t go looking for trouble.”

“Trouble’s going to find me,” he said. “Do you know how I might ward against her? Does she have weaknesses?” We had already purchased a lot of garlic. At least Arnold was putting some of it to good use.

“I’ve no idea!” said Reika, while looking around as though she expected listeners. “If she did, she’d keep them under her hat!”

“She doesn’t wear a hat,” said Wiki. “She’s one of the few youkai without headwear, save for her bow. You’d know that if she ever came in here.”

Reika gave us a wide-eyed stare.

“She’s come in here, hasn’t she?”

Reika put her head in her hands. “I’m not supposed to talk about this.”

“Does she have any deformities?” I suddenly asked. Reika frowned at me, her brow deeply furrowed. Both Wiki and I were silent; it seemed like Reika knew something, and was just deciding whether she could tell us.

“She has multiple heads,” Reika finally said, her voice quiet. “I’ve heard they can detach from her body…”

“Actually!” said Wiki. “Sekibanki kind of matches your theory, Jake, now that I think of it! Her lore is a mash-up of that of the rokurokubi and the nukebuki, or dullahan. The mashup means that she doesn’t behave quite like either, at least in the games.”

“You know a lot about her too, huh?” whispered Reika. “Just like all the other youkai.”

“Why are we whispering?” he whispered back.

“It’s dangerous knowledge! In Gensokyo, knowing the wrong thing can get you killed!”

“Maybe that’s why nobody likes explaining anything,” I said, trying to change the subject. I was also feeling very uncomfortable, but Wiki was oblivious. I regretted asking about her deformity, and also not realizing that she had one. It was obvious, really.

“I saw her at the first festival, so she can’t be that bad,” said Wiki. “However, I haven’t seen her since. Hmm. I wonder if she drinks blood, or if she had to put a stop to that.”

I realized some things.

I wanted to write new questions in my notebook, but I had to be careful. Our discomfort had an explanation, so Wiki wasn’t that curious about it, but if I pulled out my notebook he’d start making more accursed inferences.

“If she drank blood, she might come to some arrangement like the Scarlet Devil Mansion.” Wiki said, starting to mumble. “Sekibanki isn’t calling for donations. She probably found some alternative…”

“Thanks for your help, Reika,” I said. “Sorry to put you on the spot.”

“No problem,” she replied. “Except there will be, if either of you are this blabber-mouthed elsewhere. Try to reign it in, okay?” She reached over the counter and lightly touched Wiki’s cheek. “I do want you to live.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll only discuss these things with you and in our dorm.”

“Good,” she said.

“Oh, and with Hieda no Akyuu’s study group.” Instead of going to the Mansion or another external area, Wiki had offered his knowledge for her anthology. He had bragged about being the most useful person there.

Reika grumbled. “Yukari watches over that club personally, right? So I guess it’s okay. Try not to be so loud elsewhere, though.

“No promises,” he said. She stared at him. “I was making a joke. I promise to be careful.”

We got our tickets from her and went to the back. I scribbled in my notebook briefly while we were taking off our clothes, and Wiki’s back was turned.

There was another thing I needed to ask Sekibanki; did she know how to stop needing to drink blood? The vampires could use her knowledge, if she did, and maybe I could convey it to them and do some real good.