Miyoi came to take our orders. She spun between the tables, almost dancing as she laid down drinks and small plates of food while on her way to us. The blue-haired waitress was serving most of the customers by herself, but she easily kept up with the workload.

I had the thought that the place had been arranged for her convenience, but the opposite was closer to the truth. She was a house-spirit of the izakaya; the pub shaped her rather than the reverse, and that she could dance between the tables was as natural as a human dancing on their feet.

Miyoi beamed and welcomed us in a sweet voice. “The daily special is The Ogre Deal: only nine hundred ninety nine rin for as much sake as you can drink!”

“The daily special is the same every day,” Arnold told me, as though that were a secret.

“Ogres drink daily,” added Mayoi. “Nightly too!”

“Is it ogre-supplied sake?” asked Wiki. “And therefore limitless?”

“A man who knows his ogres,” said Miyoi with a nod. Wiki seemed like he wanted to object or say something, but he must have thought better of it.

“Amazake,” said Wiki after a moment.

“Nice try,” said Sasha. “The three of us want sake to start, just a single serving each, please.”

“And you?” Miyoi asked me.

“Uh,” I said as I flipped over the drink menu and looked for something innocuous. They didn’t have soda on tap, but I was surprised by one of the pictures I saw. “Canned lemonade?”

Miyoi nodded and bounced away.

“I love pre-modern conveniences,” said Arnold. He glanced at Miyoi’s butt. I pretended not to notice.

“We should order food shortly as well,” said Wiki. “By the way, coercing me to drink may technically be legal in this nigh-lawless land… but it’s also extraordinarily rude.”

“I’m buying, if that helps,” Sasha said. Then she sighed. “If you’d rather not, I will respect that, and I’ll just give your drink to Arnold.”

“Oh no,” said Wiki, waving a hand. “That won’t be necessary. I’m just trying to forestall the formation of a pattern. I’ll definitely give this experiment a shot, but next time you pressure me to do anything I’m refusing out of principle.”

“Darn,” said Arnold.

“Possibly several shots,” I said.

“Wait, you’ll refuse anything?” added Arnold. “Keep all your money, don’t share any with me.”

The smaller man pulled a one-rin coin from his pouch and threw it at Arnold’s face. It bounced off his head and landed on the table.

“Why didn’t you dodge?” asked Sasha.

“I was sitting down!” said Arnold, rubbing his forehead. “You should learn to use danmaku, so when you pelt me with cash it doesn’t hurt so much!”

“Pelting you with cash is illegal in the human village, unless I hurt you! Danmaku isn’t allowed!”

“It’s too bad we don’t know the Ballmer peak for danmaku,” I said. They looked at me blankly, so I was forced to explain an ancient meme about how a perfect amount of drunkenness was necessary for excellent software development.

Wiki said something about how Zun must have employed the same method, what with his love for beer. As he explained the numerous ways people drank in Gensokyo, I felt my attention begin to wander.

Youmu had ordered another plate of food. She ate like a swordswoman, that was for sure. Miyoi dropped it off at her table and took an empty dish away.

I watched the house spirit take another order as she passed the empty dish over the counter. Then she caught something thrown by a man in the kitchen. I realized it was my lemonade when she walked straight back toward me and noticed me staring at her. Miyoi gave me a smile, and I felt my cheeks redden a bit.

She was cute. Her eyes were green, a striking combination with her blue hair. Having non-robotic servers was weird, I thought.

I tried not to let the dynamic mislead me. Okunoda Miyoi was smiling at literally everyone, as far as I could tell. When she walked over I mutely accepted my lemonade. It was a tall can. The text was in Japanese, but the giant picture of a lemon on front made me reasonably confident in opening it up.

“More sour than I was expecting,” I said after a sip, to no-one in particular. “It’s good though.”

“Lots of characters drink heavily in the games and lore,” said Wiki. “Zun clearly knew something. This exercise might lead to insight. Perhaps consuming alcohol gives one a connection to the supernatural! Drunkenness might be necessary to commune with Gensokyo itself!”

“That’s the spirit,” said Arnold.

“Spirits, even,” I added. I was perusing the food menu as I took another gulp from my lemonade.

Wiki continued in a whisper. “In Lotus Eaters Miyoi stole a gourd from an oni, an item with the magical ability to turn water into sake. I wonder if that incident happened, or if it’s underway. It would explain why she is avoiding attention, although avoiding attention was a major theme of the work itself.”

“I never really thought about it,” said Sasha, “but you said not all the games have happened, yet? Your knowledge might be able to predict the future?”

“I wish. I talked with Hieda no Akyuu about it. The titular black market of 100th Black Market occurred two years ago. It seems like canon stopped in the real Gensokyo around then. That also implies that time passes a tenth as fast here as in the Outside World, if Zun was transcribing current events with his games.”

“Wait… so we’ve already been here for three years?” My AI timelines had the world ending before that. I was glad I’d been wrong, if so, although I couldn’t imagine how.

The other drinks came. Sasha put in an order for edamame and yakitori to share, saving me from my indecision and my inability to read Japanese.

“Time is a fluid thing in Gensokyo,” said Wiki. “For example, it’s likely that Yukari herself is a human living in the Outside World, right now, who has yet to go back in time to ancient Japan.” He told me a bit about Maribel Hearn, a character from a music album with a striking resemblance to Yakumo Yukari.

“I doubt that severely,” said the gap under the bottom of my soda can.

“I can believe in magic,” I said, “But time travel is a step too far.”

“Anyway, nobody from Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost, or any of the games after, has made an appearance.”

“So have those games just not happened yet, or…” asked Arnold.

“No,” he said. “We’re overdue for them, and there’ve been entirely different incidents in the intervening years, with different actors, not all of whom I know.” He sipped some sake with a grimace. “The gacha games came out around Touhou 19, so I wonder if that somehow disrupted Zun’s psychic abilities.”

“His what?” asked Arnold.

“We’ve been over this! The creator of Touhou was obviously psychic, because this level of fidelity is too exact for it to have been an informant or an account of his own time here!”

Wiki elaborated a bit on some other possibilities: that the games were promotional work from Yukari to bolster the belief in youkai, or that Zun and Touhou were memetic effects that Yukari implanted in our minds upon our immigration to save us a long onboarding period, or that reality itself was a simulation and we’d accidentally become part of a continuity error.

“We could be characters in some nerd’s fanfiction, even! The point is, the youkai from more recent games don’t seem to exist, and there are strangers in their place.”

Damn, I thought, thinking of my favorite character from Touhou 22. Her name was Keisan Yurei, a purple-haired sentient ghost of a computer. She had the ability to hypnotize and mimic people and their creations just like generative AI. She could have helped Wiki figure out his danmaku emotion.

On the other hand, it was probably good that no actual AIs had made it into Gensokyo, even ones from canon. Wiki coughed as he took another drink.

“I’ve never liked alcohol,” said Wiki with some consternation. “Every time I sample it I expect to enjoy it, but I never do.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“I’m right there with you,” I said, taking another pull of my lemonade. “I think it’s an acquired taste.”

“You just need to try harder,” said Arnold, throwing his sake back. “Another, please!”

“Right away!” called Miyoi.

—

We were supposed to go back to Satori, but we were having too much fun just talking with each other. And drinking.

Arnold waved Miyoi over. I watched her set down another plate in front of Youmu before heading our way. The half-phantom seemed to be muttering under her breath, and looked a little stressed, but the waitress was as happy as ever.

“Can I have the retrospect deal in ogre?” asked Arnold, his voice a little slurred. “The ogre deal in retrospect, rather.”

“There are no ogres here,” said Wiki. He looked around to double-check. “Not any I can see, anyway. Maybe they’re disguised! There’s Ka–ah, at least one ogre like that.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” said Miyoi. She set a tall glass of water in front of Arnold. “No-can-do about the ogre deal. I can give you a free dumpling, though!”

“Aw, thanks! Too bad… it might have been cheaper.” He counted on his fingers how many drinks he’d had.

“No~pe,” said Miyoi, as she walked away. “That’s how we getcha!”

I wondered if there was a bottomless food option, and whether Youmu had taken it. She was eating enough for like three people, although to be fair, the appetizers were small. Maybe having two bodies, a phantom-half and a human-half, doubled her caloric needs. Or tripled them. It wasn’t like I could see the phantom part anyway. As I thought about it, Arnold apologized to Sasha for drinking so much.

“I’m glad you are considering my coin purse now,” said Sasha. “Too bad we couldn’t just share the special.”

“I’d share anything with you,” he said, smiling. “Almost anything. We’re just friends. Sorry.”

“Gross and awkward,” she replied. “What about you two? Wiki, do you feel buzzed enough to stop thinking?”

“Let me think about it,” he said. He looked down at his third drink. “I don’t know. Have you considered the possibility that my emotions while drunk won’t match my sober emotions? If I learn only drunken danmaku, I’ll be in a serious pickle indeed, and I’ll have to get a…a…” he glanced at Miyoi. “I don’t think magical alcohol containers are things you can just buy. It also makes me wonder if Satori could read my mind if I were blackout drunk. She’d remember what I thought, and I wouldn’t, right?”

“More sake needed,” said Sasha. “What about you, Jake?”

“Huh?”

“He’s checking out Youmu,” said Arnold. “Leave ‘im alone.”

“I’m doing good,” I said. My face felt hot for some reason. I had been staring at Youmu. “Is she talking to herself, or am I crazy?”

“Those are not mutually exclusive,” said Wiki. “She might be crazy too.”

“She is,” said Arnold with a nod. “Isn’t it sad?”

“No…” I said. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Is that lemonade some good sauce for you, or what?” asked Sasha. “Freaking featherweight.”

“I mean, it’s tasty,” I said, glancing at the empty can. “I’m sorry I’m not drinking like the rest of you.”

“Give me that,” said Wiki. I handed the empty can to him, and he turned it over. “This says 12% alcohol by volume, dumbass.”

“Huh,” I said. I was having a hard time finding words, otherwise I’d have produced a snappy comeback.

“Why don’t you learn Japanese already? Translation spells might not be permanent, you know!” He looked over his shoulder. “Why are you staring at Youmu?”

“She seems upset,” I said. Youmu had put her head in her hands. “She’s acting weird. I don’t know, I just feel like I’m missing something. I feel… like I want to talk to her.”

“Happens to me every time,” said Arnold.

“I put her down as a possible ally for recruitment,” said Wiki. “One of her swords can cut almost anything, and her other causes enlightenment when it cuts you. Roukanken and Hakuroken are their names.”

“Why don’t you get stabbed, then?” asked Sasha. “I’m kidding of course.”

“I would if it would help, but she cut me on like my third day here. This is me while enlightened.”

“Hard to believe.”

“Anyway, she’s low on the list of potential allies, because she’s only half human and she’s monomaniacally dedicated to her job in the realm of the dead.”

“Who’s her boss, again?” I asked.

“Saigyouji Yuyuko,” he said. Youmu glanced our way; Wiki had been a little loud. “A powerful youkai, a ghost, and a glutton.”

“Ah,” I said. “That explains everything.” And it did.

“Do you think you could get her on our side? Why don’t you go talk to her?” He elbowed me. “She’s flat chested, eh?” I gave him a confused look.

“Drunk men are all the same,” said Sasha.

Arnold banged the table. “Jake has pure motives! I know it! Just go talk to her, she won’t hurt you. You don’t have a beard.”

Wiki corrected him (about the danger, not my nonexistent beard) and started explaining how talking to Youmu could lead to my demise despite her being generally nice to humans.

“Do it,” said Arnold. “I want to see what she cuts off, so leave your shoes here.”

“Philistine,” said Wiki. “We were supposed to leave our shoes at the door!” I stopped listening, because I found myself walking toward Youmu’s table. She looked at me as I approached.

Her face was framed by short, straight white hair. Her eyes were icy blue. Her unhappy expression cooled and hardened, until her face was neutral. She was reserved enough to hide her emotions if she knew someone was watching, but not otherwise.

“Pardon me,” I said to her, where she sat on the left. “You seem distraught.”

“It is none of your concern,” she replied, her body language somehow both loose and unyielding. Her hand was on the table, slightly open. She seemed ready to grab the hilt of one of her swords, which were sitting beside her in the booth. You could tell a lot about the human village by the fact that swords were allowed while danmaku was not.

Youmu looked across the table, to my right. I noticed there was food at both places, confirming my suspicions. A dango stick with three pieces on it was sitting on a plate opposite Youmu.

After a moment she spoke again. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Is that your wish or… Miss Saigyouji’s?” I asked. I tried to turn toward where I thought the ghost was sitting, and I noticed that a dango ball had disappeared while I wasn’t looking. “I’m afraid I can’t see her, which is unfortunate…” I was trying to go somewhere with that, but the lemonade plucked the thoughts from my mind.

“Apologies, but my Lady says you aren’t my type, nor hers,” said Youmu, slowly. “You seem bad at listening.”

“Ah, well, I do have a good reason to talk to you,” I said, not sure that I did.

“What’s–” She frowned, and looked across the table. “My Lady, it may be amusing, but it’s not without risk.” She continued to look at nothing I could see. I tried to wait patiently until Youmu looked at me again, to avoid interrupting the conversation.

All at once she put her hand on one of her swords, drew, and sliced the brim of my hat with a lightning-fast motion. It was a short sword: about a foot and a half long. I only perceived her slicing toward me in retrospect.

However, Youmu had miscalculated. My hat was part of my identity. I even wore it in restaurants. I’d made it so, to make it immune to danmaku.

What’s more, Youmu had used danmaku. The blow counted as a graze. I felt myself sober up. And more.

Youmu had cut me with Hakurouken, the blade of enlightenment. I appreciated that she’d used danmaku, which was skirting the rules of the village, true, but it also meant that if a blow did land nobody would get hurt. She wasn’t cruel. I had a dizzying number of insights at once. My impulse to talk to Youmu hadn’t come from nowhere.

First; she really could help Wiki if she cut him with this blade. He’d have to meditate on his emotions, first, but his thoughts would be clarified just like my own were being clarified. Youmu would also have to choose an appropriate compulsion, because unlike me, Wiki could not be grazed.

Second, she could help Arnold, because he wanted to use his ax for danmaku and she knew how to use her swords for the same.

Third, she could help me. Because she could see and talk to ghosts, and I could not. The ability to see youkai was a requirement for fighting them, so the ability to see ghosts was what I wanted.

Alright, maybe the third one wasn’t that important at that moment, but it was never-the-less what my mind fixated on. As Youmu blinked and realized she’d actually hit me with her danmaku, I had the fleeting thought I was still tipsy, because I chose to talk about the least important thing.

“I can’t see ghosts,” I said. I set my coin pouch on the table. “I wish I could, and I’m offering to help pay for dinner in exchange for your assistance.” That Youmu was struggling under the burden of feeding a ghost was a fourth insight, or maybe the zeroth because I’d already sort of known that. Her phantom half twirled behind her. I watched it for a moment and failed to make the connection. It was a white cloud, like a raindrop or a streak of… hmm.

“Assistance with what?” asked Youmu.

“Seeing ghosts,” I said, stupidly.

“Well, being dead is the easiest way,” she said. “However, I cannot recommend it. Half-dead is preferable.”

“You should actually stab him,” said Saigyouji Yuyuko. “That sometimes works.”

“Pardon me, my Lady. To make him dead, half-dead, or to dispel his confusion?”

The ghost waved a hand. “Whatever you want. Any would entertain.”

I did a double-take and looked back to the right. In front of me was the translucent image of a woman in a light-blue kimono. She had pink hair and icy-white skin, and was taller than expected.

Saigyouji Yuyuko was definitely a ghost. She didn’t quite touch the booth she was sitting in. I had a feeling that pretending to sit was just her way of being polite, because she was incorporeal and couldn’t sit on things.

She absolutely could eat food, though. I watched her pop the last piece of dango in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, then grinned at me. She was translucent, but I couldn’t see the contents of her stomach for some reason, nor her body under her kimono. I suspected it would have been quite a sight; her clothing was well-filled. I looked back up and her red eyes met mine.

“Looks like he was already enlightened,” said the ghost. “A pity.”

Youmu’s phantom half swirled back and away from me. She stood up, which scarcely made her taller, then bowed in front of the booth.

“I am deeply sorry for actually cutting you,” she said. “It was not my intent. Where is your injury?”

“I’m uninjured…” I said, touching my undamaged hat. “Actually, I’m glad you did. I feel like I learned something.” Youmu nodded.

“You’re welcome, then.”

Yuyuko chuckled. “Why don’t you join us after all? You may be rude and inconsiderate, but you’re the first human who has asked to see me by name.” She put a hand to her lips, looking me up and down. “And also got what he wanted. I must say, I’ve entertained worse. Why don’t you handle introductions, Youmu?”

Youmu scooted back and bowed again. “I am Konpaku Youmu, swordswoman and gardener. This is Lady Saigyouji, Princess of Hakugyokurou.”

I returned the bow, one to each of them. “Jake Thorne, teacher and student of danmaku,” I said. I took a seat in the booth, next to Youmu. Arnold gave me a thumb’s up from across the room after Sasha stifled his cheer with her hand.

“Mister Thorne,” said Lady Saigyouji. “I’ve heard that name before, from a good friend.” She pulled out a pink and blue hand fan.

“Uhh….” I said, wondering if I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

“I have some questions for you,” said Lady Saigyouji, fluttering her fan.