Arnold and I promised Reika we would convey her warning to Wiki. We bathed quickly. We were to meet Keine at the schoolhouse in less than an hour, after the sun had set.

We made it back to the dorm with several minutes to spare. Wiki was there and talking with a couple of women. One of them was Sasha and the other was in a green and yellow dress. The stranger was playing with Emeff.

“Hey, how are things?” I asked.

“Awful,” said Wiki. “Satori said she’d help me, but after less than five minutes she told me to get lost. I still haven’t made any danmaku.” The woman in green told him that he needed more confidence in himself. She continued to pet our chicken. “Oh come on, that’s the oldest cliche there is!”

“It’s also dead wrong,” said Sasha. “You’re way overconfident.”

“I know.”

The other lady nodded, and said that excess was an aspect of embracing one’s nature. The others politely ignored her, so I did the same. I was a little jealous of her; I also enjoyed stroking Emeff, and I was nervous before the exam. She saw me looking, smiled, and gave me the chicken to hold.

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’m trying to decide whether to go to this exam at all,” said Wiki. “The practice might be good, but going out at night is one of the four avoidances. Nighttime is dangerous.” At least his other studies had been successful.

“Speaking of which, Reika had a message for you,” said Arnold. “There’s a full moon.”

“That decides things. I’m staying here.”

“Is Keine really that dangerous?” I asked.

“No. Yes. Just…” Wiki pinched his nose, right in front of his glasses. “She can eat history without being transformed, which is dangerous.”

“So what’s the big deal? It’s not like things are going to get worse than in her class!”

“The full moon causes widespread insanity,” he replied. “Werehakutaku and werewolves, sure, but even ordinary youkai become more of a threat.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s an odd time for her to schedule it. Miss Kamishirasawa’s power changes on the night of the full moon, from eating history to creating it.”

“What does that mean?” asked Arnold.

“It’s not clear in the lore. She can give people delusions that have the ring of truth to them, or perhaps she can make forgotten events more salient. Maybe she’s going to test us by putting us in a genjutsu that lasts a hundred years, or something.”

“A what?” I asked, and to my dismay Wiki started talking about Naruto. The expanded universe was too much for me to keep up with, so I’d never gotten into the series. I mostly smiled and nodded as he explained how an illusion might cause a person to live entire false lives in a moment.

“If it’s a real thing, our time in Gensokyo is probably a hallucination,” he concluded. “However, we cannot make any assumptions. Disregarding that, Keine’s ability to create history might allow her to have us hallucinate all sorts of things as part of a test. It’s something we should keep in mind.” He must have been inspired: Wiki quickly scribbled a question on a sticky note and went to slap it to our well-covered board. “Hold on a second. Does our note board look weird to you guys?”

“It’s an ugly monkey,” said Sasha.

“No, the other one.”

It looked completely normal, at least according to the woman in green. She had a bit of hurt in her voice. She had apparently made it for us.

“No, no, the art’s amazing,” said Wiki. “Incredible even.” She thanked him. “I just… don’t know who it’s supposed to depict? Clearly a youkai… but I know them all, don’t I?”

“Not the new ones,” said Arnold. Wiki waved a hand to acknowledge it.

“Didn’t this happen before?” I asked.

The woman in green nodded. “A couple of times,” she said.

“Quit getting distracted,” said Sasha. She had a point. Our note board wasn’t the problem here.

“No, it is weird,” said Arnold. He turned to the woman. “Doesn’t it… well… look like you, a bit? If you were in anime?”

The woman in green nodded, beaming. Wiki looked between her and the note board.

“I suppose so,” said Wiki. He grabbed a note from the board, one of the first that we’d put on it. “Are you… Komeiji Koishi?”

“Yes,” said Koishi with a smile. “So you figured it out!”

“Gosh, I feel like I’ve seen you before,” I said.

“A few times!”

“You were at the haunted house.”

She gave me a thumbs up. “You’re getting better at it, I’d say. Good job!”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” said Wiki. “It says here that we can’t perceive you.” We all looked at her. Her green and yellow dress also had black trim on it. She had an exterior organ: a third eye like Satori’s, but it was closed. The purplish flesh connecting it to her limbs looked like veins. Her hair was messy and faintly green.

“I see her,” I said.

“Who?” asked Arnold. “Sasha or… sorry, miss?”

“Koishi,” she said. “It’s okay, my name is hard to remember.” Koishi walked up to me, looking me in my eyes, and I backed up as she invaded my personal space. “You’re different, Jake. Did something change?”

“I had surgery recently?”

“Ah!” she said. “I was gonna guess a haircut.”

“This note is clearly false,” said Wiki. He crumpled up the note and tossed it away. “Anyway, I’m not going to the exam.”

“You should go!” said Koishi, making Wiki flinch. “Even if you can’t pass, it’ll be fun and interesting!”

“She has a pretty good point,” said Arnold. “You’re treating this like work, but it’s also a chance to just… experience things.”

“A chance to risk my life,” he said.

“Not all worthwhile things are safe,” said Koishi. “You can’t let your fear rule you. That’s why my sister has such a hard time teaching people danmaku. She hears all their fears, and nothing that makes them happy.” Koishi smiled and looked down. “I can’t teach very well either, though. She forgets things like that.”

“So to do danmaku, I have to be happy?” asked Wiki.

“Yes!” she said. “Well, not really, but maybe!”

“I’d be happy to stay home.”

“True! Anyway, you have to stop second-guessing all those feelings and just express them. You keep looking for an ugly thing about yourself, or a hidden thing, but nothing’s hidden, okay?”

“I’m not happy, though,” he said. She shrugged. Wiki looked at the floorboards with a scowl. “I thought I’d be happier in Gensokyo than I am. I can’t even leave the damn village.”

“Well, you can,” I said. “Just not safely.”

“We’re running out of time,” said Sasha. I put Emeff back in her cage, and we all went to the door. It was twilight outside, shocking me a bit. The days were getting shorter and shorter.

Sasha, Arnold, and I stepped out. Koishi came right after, and so did Wiki.

“It can’t hurt to walk you guys there,” he said. “Except it could, if I tripped and died.”

“I don’t think that’s very useful,” said Koishi.

“It’s true, though.”

“Yeah, but,” she said, “You already know it. Focusing on things you already know makes everything else you might notice a lot harder to see.”

“Weren’t you just telling me I didn’t have to search hard, that ‘nothing was hidden’?” He laughed once, but it sounded like a barking dog. “Which is it!”

“Maybe focusing too much is the problem!” she said. “I don’t know!”

Wiki gave her a look. “Who are you to tell me these things anyway?”

“I’m Koishi.”

“I’m the guy who solves ten riddles when other people haven’t even noticed there’s a mystery!” He kicked a rock. “I don’t know why everybody’s so stupid. People don’t even know how much they know, it’s infuriating.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” said Arnold.

“I am!” He didn’t get it.

Koishi nodded. “I totally understand.”

“But am I mistaken about my feelings, or am I correct? You’ve implied both.”

“You’re thinking about it the wrong way,” she said. “Stop worrying, just be.”

“Don’t let the intrusive thoughts win,” suggested Arnold.

Koishi snapped her fingers. “Exactly!”

“Koishi, you’re kinda annoying,” said Wiki. “Worrying is who I am. I can’t choose to be someone else.”

“Who do you think you are, and how do you think you know him?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. As we walked, Wiki lapsed into an uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m not sure why Satori thought I’d be good at this,” said Koishi, cheerfully. “It’s fun for people to be mad at me, though. Normally they just pretend I’m not there.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I said.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“No, it’s fine. I like people-watching.”

“Maybe…” I said. “Maybe your sister just wanted Wiki to go away?”

“Oh she did, that’s true,” said Koishi. “But I think she wanted to help. If she really wanted him to go away, she’d read his mind and say awful things. She can do that, you know.”

“She does that constantly,” said Sasha. Koishi laughed.

“She doesn’t say half of it. She’s too nice. My poor sister just can’t win, because no matter what she hears people think, she still cares about them.”

“People, and not just youkai?” I asked.

“Chickens too,” she said.

“Who are you talking to?” Sasha asked me.

“Koishi,” I said. The youkai beamed at me, and I smiled back. She seemed very happy with everything going on.

“Trying to worry about not worrying is a paradox,” Wiki finally said. “I think the answer is that I should pick and choose, and try to optimize my worries, if I’m going to do it anyway. Worry about things that matter, to the extent that I can. Except, I should let it go if it’s too hard to refocus–maybe I should block out time to worry about whatever, just to get it out of the way?–and also, this isn’t going to help me learn danmaku any time soon.” He looked around. “Why am I thinking about this?”

“Sounds about right to me,” said Koishi, making him flinch again. “Sorry.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you guys, not so I can pass the exam or anything. Just so I can, I don’t know, think about things, and learn what I’ll need to do. Koishi, you’re a youkai, right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Would you….” He winced. She blinked at him, prettily I’d have to say. “Would you come with me? In case I want to leave early?” He’d need an escort back to the village.

“Sure!”

“Thank you.”

–

Keine administered the written exam in the schoolhouse. Reisen was there to help proctor, and it was packed. On the other hand, all of the test takers could fit under one roof. Many people had already given up, probably because danmaku ended up requiring some serious study.

The white-haired teacher in blue walked up and down the aisles alongside the moon rabbit. Koishi joined them, imitating their motions, but nobody seemed to notice.

I tried not to get distracted thinking about Koishi’s abilities, but it wasn’t that big of a deal either way. The test was laughably easy, a multiple-choice questionnaire. The questions were exactly the material we’d studied, they were things I thought were extraordinarily important, and I’d also helped Wiki study them too. I had learned it three times over.

Keine apparently also had the material memorized. At the end of the exam she went from seat to seat, telling people whether they’d passed just by glancing at their test. She’d turn over the exam papers of the failures, but there weren’t all that many.

“Zig-zag pattern,” said Wiki when she gave him a nod. “A B A C B D B A, over and over.”

“So you cheated,” she replied.

“I couldn’t notice the pattern until I’d already answered the questions,” he responded.

“Fair enough,” she said with a chuckle.

Then we trudged out into the dark woods for the practical. Keine took a parasol to protect herself from the moonlight. She did not transform. Reisen took her gun.

“It’s a paralune,” said Wiki when I pointed out the parasol to him. “And I’m pretty sure that’s a Glock.”

–

The practical exam was one-on-one at the Q and A arena.

Keine’s danmaku was mostly red and blue, although teal bullets and even some kunai-like shapes made an appearance during her examination. Long slow-moving poles of light curtailed our movements, and red or blue bullets flew into these compartments, as though Keine were poking rats in cages. I recognized a few common configurations; she was testing the student’s ability to dodge.

Every exam battle was about thirty seconds long. We passed if we hit Keine with one or more bullets, if we took one bullet without faltering to her compulsion, and if we dodged or grazed at least ten times. Grazing was a bit more honorable. It was being hit without being affected, and not every student could do it.

The battle went on until all requirements were met, or the student lost to the compulsion. The difficulty ramped up so fast that ‘get hit’ wasn’t the last thing that most of the (successful) examinees did. Of course, the failures always failed by being hit one-too-many times.

Sasha was called forth.

“Keine keeps going for a few seconds after they pass,” observed Wiki. “So don’t get comfortable after your tenth dodge!”

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to keep count,” she said. “But thanks.” She ran right up to the were-hakutaku and hit her with a green blade, getting that part of the exam out of the way at once.

“Nice of our teacher to stay on the ground,” said Wiki.

“Maybe flight will be a part of danmaku 201,” I said. Sasha ducked a laser beam, but then was struck by a red bullet. She shook her head and kept fighting.

“There’s advanced courses?” asked Arnold.

“Not to my knowledge,” I said, “I was just making conversation.”

Sasha took a second hit, but she still didn’t falter. After several more frantic seconds the curtain fire stopped. Keine complimented her on her up-close style and the impossibility of dodging large danmaku.

“A wide, proximal blade is merciless,” said our teacher. “It will drive others away. You’ll be forced to chase them. Regardless, you pass.” Sasha nodded and sat back down.

Six or seven battles passed. All but one of the students failed.

A few minutes later, Raghav proved how much of an overachiever he was. As he moved across the battlefield he spun and danced, his fine clothes shimmering. It only took him a bit over thirty seconds to graze ten times, hit Keine with a yellow bullet, and be hit in turn.

“Minimal effort for maximal efficacy,” said the were-hakutaku from under her parasol or paralune or whatever it was.

“Thank you, teacher.”

“Did you allow me to hit you?”

“I did not, except through my own imperfection.” Keine nodded at this, and the next student was brought up.

“We’ll be here for another thirty minutes at this rate,” said Wiki. We watched a few more battles. The only woman left in the class, other than Sasha, was finally eliminated.

When it was Arnold’s turn he struggled to make danmaku with his ax. Keine forbade physical contact or weapons, but she let him at least hold the tool as a crutch. The problem for him was that swinging took time and put him off balance; he had to wait for the right moment.

Arnold did finally manage to strike her with a pink bullet, ending the battle.

“Oh my,” said Keine, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I’ve not faced that sort of compulsion before.”

“Not once?” asked Wiki. “I find that hard to believe.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “I mean, I didn’t mean to imply–it’s just you have a lot of students–”

“I’m flattered,” said Keine to Arnold. “I could teach you a thing or two, but that’s outside the scope of our class… and unprofessional…”

“Heh heh,” Arnold said, rubbing the back of his head. “I was thinking of someone else, to be honest. Someone I’ve wanted to impress for a while.”

“My mistake,” she said, pleasantly, before using her ability to eat history to make all of us forget the entire conversation. It didn’t work on me, because Keine forgot to use her ability on Koishi and the invisible youkai told me about the exchange later, as we were watching battles wrap up.

I went next. I got lucky with a quick vector that hit Keine in the stomach. With that requirement met I hunkered down and prepared myself to boogie like a madman. This was an opportunity to learn, practice, and show off.

Bullets streamed at me from multiple directions, so many that for a time I had no conscious thought.

Our battle took a while–a whole minute–but that was because I was trying my damnedest to dodge as much as possible. I didn’t even bother to fire back. Instead I dove, I leapt, I squeezed between beams, and I hit the ground over and over. It was gawky, awkward, and somehow effective. I was hit often, but they were only grazes that left me feeling stronger.

Keine noticed my small hitbox. Then she put a magical kunai through my abdomen. That blow finally nailed me, but at least it didn’t damage my yukata. The purple and golden threads were the only sign of wear.

“I can tell you are dedicated to your art,” said Keine. “And not for its own sake. Your dedication is a powerful motivator, more than mere curiosity.”

“Thank you, teacher,” I said as I huffed and puffed. I left the battlefield so that the next student could be tested.

Most of the students fell to the compulsion. That included Wiki, who didn’t fire a single bullet. Keine didn’t provide any words of wisdom to those who failed, and so she had nothing to say to him. He had some things to say to her, but Sasha and Koishi politely dragged him away.

At the end of the second phase of testing Reisen escorted the failures back to the village. They trudged off together, except for Wiki, who asked to stay.

“You don’t have an escort,” said Keine.

“Koishi will do that for me,” he said. The were-hakutaku frowned. “That’s assuming you wouldn’t do it yourself after the test, anyway. The third phase isn’t leaving us in the woods, is it?”

“You also need my permission.”

“Please?” asked Wiki. “I’m here to learn.”

“The next part is supposed to be a secret,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to–”

“You should let him stay, he’s being a good student,” said Koishi.

“... you’ll have to keep quiet about what you see, alright?” Keine tut-tutted. “If I find out that you’ve ruined the surprise for the next crop of danmaku users, I’ll eat your entire history and have Miss Yakumo gap you into a mental institution in the Outside World.”

“If anyone doesn’t want to wait, just ask,” said a dark space between trees.

“Understood,” said Wiki. “I swear I’ll keep the third phase a secret.”

“Then let us proceed to the lake,” said Keine.

–

There were only twenty-six students remaining, a teacher, and two (or three) interlopers. Keine spoke to us as we walked.

“Danmaku is a form of personal expression,” she said. “It is an art, not a body of knowledge. Study alone could not bring you here, and it cannot take you further.” Wiki shook his head in an exaggerated way, making me think that not giving commentary was very taxing on him. “A danmaku user focused on gathering knowledge is like a carpenter trying to find the perfect hammer, or a painter wanting a flawless brush. A good hammer is good enough; the nicest set of brushes cannot make a painting on their own. Knowledge of danmaku without practice is similarly inept.”

I wondered if Keine had met Patchouli Knowledge, the woman who studied constantly. I wondered which of them would win in a fight. Patchouli probably practiced when I wasn’t looking, anyway, but I doubt she put down her book to do it.

“Every time you battle with danmaku,” continued Keine, “You are putting your soul on display. Your habits of movement and countermovement go from conscious thought to autonomic action. Cramming more thoughts in your head to fill the gap isn’t always the wisest idea. What class can you attend, to know your own soul? What book can you read, with your soul written in it? The entire point is to make the battle a dance without thought, a thing that happens while you are elsewhere, so it can be the purest expression of your hidden self. So instead of grasping at communicable concepts, just use what you’ve learned to experience danmaku for yourself.”

“I like her,” said Koishi.

“You must go out and fight if you wish to become proficient,” said Keine. “I am your teacher. I will send you away with two gifts, so that you may continue your growth.”

Keine said no more. We walked in silence for several moments. I looked up at the sky. On full-moon nights it’s easy to tell time; the moon moves around the earth like a clock hand. It was about ten thirty, because the moon was halfway to the zenith.

It was Wiki who figured it out first.

“She ate the history of our danmaku lessons,” he said, as he covered his face with his hand.

“What?” I asked. I thought back, and realized I couldn’t remember a single thing that Keine had ever taught us. I didn’t remember sitting in her class; I didn’t remember the lessons where she explained direct and indirect fire; I couldn’t recall battling her, except in the exam I had just completed. I remembered going to the shrine with Reimu… and that was it.

“That’s a shitty gift,” said Sasha. “We spent all that time studying for nothing.”

Keine laughed. “Can you still do danmaku?”

“No,” said Wiki, unhappily. But everyone else did the obvious; they tested their ability. And for a moment there was a glorious light show in the woods as all of Keine’s students shot bullets into the air at the same time. Danmaku of every color and every shape flew off in every direction, like a schizophrenic firework.

“Danmaku isn’t your memories,” said Keine. “It’s your soul. I’ve removed those distractions, so that you can advance without them.” We came up to the edge of the water. Keine turned around. “Everybody should get comfortable. Twenty-six is more than I thought would make it this far, and this step has to be done individually. It cannot be rushed.”

I almost went to my favorite hiding bush, but instead I ended up sitting between Arnold and Sasha on the grass. Koishi and Wiki sat behind us. Two of the martial artists were there as well. The moonlight washed over us and the foggy lake. Only Keine herself was in shadow.

When we were situated, Keine popped her paralune down and let the moonlight touch her skin. Two horns erupted from her skull, knocking her hat to the ground. Her arms and legs bulged with muscle that appeared from nowhere. Her eyes, once blue, began to glow red. Her clothes flashed from blue to green as she swelled.

“I said I would leave you with two gifts,” bellowed Keine. She was six inches taller, too, and I had the thought she’d grown a cup size. “Who wants to receive theirs first?”

“This makes no sense!” hissed Wiki.

“Which part?” asked Koishi, innocently.

“Any of it! Moonlight changing her–what about conservation of mass?–or that an umbrella could block the effect, or that the moon has to be full, or that a ‘full moon’ means an entire night and not ten seconds! That her freaking clothes changed! Moonlight is just dim sunlight, you know!”

“Her clothes are part of her identity,” said Koishi.

“I give up,” said Wiki. Keine snorted and laughed.

“So the gift is a battle,” called out Raghav. “One where you are your true self.”

“No,” said Keine, her voice rumbling. “I’m always my true self, whether meekly teaching or triumphantly protecting the village.”

“She did do that at least once,” admitted Wiki. “In the lore.”

“All of us are more complicated than a single endeavor.” She stamped like a bull; her voice had become deeper, too. “Tonight, my dear students, each of you is going to invent your very first spell card! And we will do it together, with danmaku.”