“Who wants to go first?” asked Keine, the monstrous hakutaku. Raghav stood up.

“Me,” I said, leaping to my feet. Raghav graciously sat back down.

“Mister Thorne it is,” said Keine. She pointed to a flat area away from the lake. “Follow me.”

Keine’s footsteps were thunderous. As a hakutaku she was as imposing as a bull, and as regal as a lion. As she walked by me I tried not to be intimidated. She looked capable of goring a man.

“Hornier indeed,” mumbled Arnold somewhere behind me.

We walked across the grass back toward the road. This part of Gensokyo had intermittent trees and shrubs. The bright moonlight bathed them in shadow. It was like great black stones stood around us, or silent figures. It reminded me of nothing so much as a low-poly fighting game with simple terrain. The humans on the shore of the lake watched, talking amongst themselves.

“The rules for passing this exam are a bit different,” said Keine. “First, if you fail to make a spell card within the next several minutes, you’ll fail the exam. Second, you are not allowed to speak during our battle. Third, you are not allowed to take a step in any direction. Any questions?”

“How do I make a spell card?”

“I’ll explain that before the test,” she said. “You just have to be present.”

“Okay….” I said. “Are you going to explain these rules to every student individually, or what?”

She laughed. “Leave the lesson planning to me, Mister Thorne! The rules will be different for each student.”

“Ah.” So I was going to look real dumb standing perfectly still during a danmaku battle, at least until the others learned the truth. “Can I jump?”

“If either foot leaves the ground, you lose.”

“Can I shuffle away, then?”

“No,” said Keine, some consternation entering her booming voice. “You are to do this battle while unable to move!”

“Look, I was challenging myself to dodge before, it’s not some error I’ve made–”

“I'm helping you, Mister Thorne. Your ability to dodge will only improve, assuming you pass this exam!”

“Okay,” I said. I was distrustful of teachers and of youkai, so Keine had two strikes against her. I’d also forgotten most of my interactions with her, which didn’t help.

In Gensokyo, the youkai all seemed to think they knew better. What’s more, most of them didn’t care about my life in the slightest. In the Outside World my teachers had cared about me–or at least were optimized and fine-tuned to say that–and they’d all told me everything was going to be okay even as the world hurtled toward certain doom.

So yeah, I didn’t trust Keine in the slightest. But what could I do? I did not expect a rubber stamp pass, here.

We squared up, fifty paces from each other. Keine emitted red and blue bullets as I clamped my mouth shut and planted my feet on the ground.

I fired red vectors at her. She let them impact. I recalled teaching Wiki that hungry youkai wouldn’t dodge as much, and that danmaku would reduce their rage. I remembered no lesson with Keine herself, of course.

Being empowered by the moon probably made her hungry.

“Ambition Sign: Masakado Crisis,” said Keine. Blue bullets formed swirling polygons around her, then emitted slow danmaku at me. I ducked and weaved around several, my feet firm, but then an immense teal sphere flew at my position. I could not dodge it without taking a step because it was bigger than me. My legs jerked as I suppressed the reflex.

The compulsion took hold. I took a step back toward the lake, having lost.

Then Keine ate that event and we were squared up, again. I opened my mouth to ask her if it had even really happened, but I stopped myself in time. She still hadn’t explained how to make a spell card.

“Emperor of the East,” said Keine. A ring of lasers formed around her, red and blue. I could see where they would shoot by a faint glow that preceded them, so I shifted out of their way before they came. I leaned left, then right, and I was able to dodge.

Then waves of danmaku came with the next burst of lasers, and I had to try a lot harder. I still managed. All the while I kept hitting her with vectors.

“Ambition Sign: Buretsu Crisis.”

Slow moving teal bullets flew around me. I did not have to dodge at all. But then, that giant fucking teal ball came again and obliterated me. I lost.

Keine ate that loss as well. It made me happy, because through these danmaku she communicated to me that I’d get as many tries as I’d need. My hope started to rise. The reason that humanity was going to lose to AI in the outside world was widely known; we would only get one try, and humans never get it right at first. This exam was quite a bit nicer than that.

But then, she’d also communicated to me that I was going to lose a lot. It sucked. I wished I was strong enough to win on the first try… but wishing didn’t make it so.

I remembered a discussion I’d had with Keine, where I’d asked why spell cards weren’t designed to instantly win battles, and she’d explained that dominating an opponent wasn’t the point of danmaku.

“If it were about bending others to your will, violent methods would suffice,” said Keine in her classroom, in my memory. “It’s about communicating, negotiating. Your spell card is about your desire and your admiration. If they can ignore your concerns, or accept them without faltering, they’ve done enough.”

That conversation had never happened, I was certain. But in that imagined memory, I learned that my spell card would have to somehow quantify how much I cared. Danmaku was an emotional negotiation.

Unfortunately, the thing I cared about was humanity’s survival. There could be no compromise in that!

“Ambition Sign: General Headquarters Crisis.” Across the field Keine emitted another teal ball and made me lose. ‘You suck!’ I thought as loud as I could.

How could I compromise with a youkai about the safety of humans? They wanted to kill and eat us! But no, that wasn’t exactly right. They just wanted to keep existing, and they had to feed on humans–or their emotions–to do so.

I’d actually met many youkai that didn’t eat humans at all. Satori; Byakuren; even Sekibanki didn’t kill people to eat them, no matter what she said.

“Spell cards are usually about challenging your opponent,” said Keine, one day in the woods. I decided to speak back. It was just a memory, I could do what I wanted.

“I don’t want to challenge them,” I said. “I want them to let humans live. Otherwise, they can do whatever they want.”

“Placating your opponent is an odd style for a spell card,” she said. “Not unheard of… just ineffective. It basically won’t work on the powerful, and on the weak you need not listen, so you’d have no use for it.”

“I would listen, though! I do listen to the weak!” I planned to help–I had helped–Wakasagihime.

“A human failing,” she said, with a nod. “One that I share, but we aren’t making a card for you and me.” The woods were deserted. It was just us. “We are making a card for your striving in Gensokyo.”

“I’ll be fighting people with a power differential that’s too great and can't be bridged,” I said. “Trade is for equals. So I’ll have to become their equal, I guess…?”

“Good luck with that,” said my teacher, the protector of the village, but only a middling-strength youkai herself. Her main way to protect the village was to hide it until danger passed.

“Japan Sign: Yamato Kingdom,” said Keine in the present. Red lasers twisted around. I ducked the first, and lost to the second. We reset.

It continued like that for a while. Keine had never given me lessons on spell cards, but I remembered her advice, day-by-day, in events that could have happened even if they hadn’t.

“I’ll need allies,” I finally said, on the steps of her classroom. It was just a few days before the exam. “I can’t do it alone.”

“I’m here,” said Wiki. “I’ve no idea why, though. I should be practicing.” He looked around. “Am I in a thought-experiment right now?”

“Danmaku is a solitary expression,” said Keine. “Your bullets won’t affect your allies, but otherwise, it does not consider them.”

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“They won’t?” I said. I hadn’t fired on someone on my side before.

“Ahh,” said Wiki. “So you could team up with people, so that your danmaku protects them. Just put your danmaku in the way. Can I go back to reality, now?”

That sounded more like an expression of my soul than my other ideas, which I didn’t quite remember.

In my memory, I remembered how my friends at the lake had failed to hide. I remembered how Wiki was working on recruitment. I remembered the hungry youkai that still needed to feed. I thought about what it would take to placate an enemy.

“20XX, an Afterlife Odyssey,” said Keine, in the present. Blue sigils burst from behind me and shot forward, forming lines I could not cross. That was fine. I was crossing no lines. She zipped back and forth, summoning the danmaku toward her position.

“Youkai Offering: Conviction Mines,” I said, losing instantly–but the battle went on for a few seconds after I lost.

Red starbursts of pointed danmaku covered the battlefield. Keine got near one as she moved. The bullets burst into motion, striking her and flying in every direction. The other starbursts lingered for a while, ready to burst if only she’d move into them.

These cages of danmaku were like landmines for my enemy, but cover for my allies, who could hide in them or run through them if they wanted. My friends would have a line of retreat, a line that would feed their hungry pursuers. They weren’t just mines.

They were treats I laid out for hungry youkai. I laughed.

This wasn’t danmaku for me. It was danmaku for everyone else. Even so, it was still of me. Because it did three different things at once, just like I did. It was my will that any solution be found, even one that pleased my enemy, so my spell card would be an offering for peace.

Keine ate my loss. She fired some stray bullets at me, which I dodged. I nailed her with more and more vectors.

The compulsion took hold and she admitted defeat, with a smile. “Good work, Mister Thorne! You pass!” That’s what I had wanted, and the compulsion ended.

We walked back to the edge of the lake. I had hoped for cheering, but the other humans said nothing. They all looked confused as hell.

“Did you even see the battle?” I asked.

“Somewhat,” said Wiki. “Keine beat your ass for a while, over and over, then she conceded for some reason?”

“Spellcards are meant to be a surprise!” Keine roared. “If you want to tell people about yours, go right ahead, Mister Thorne–but I ate their history of having seen it.”

“I have nothing to hide,” I said. I told them about my spell card, and how they could benefit from using it for cover or retreat.

“That’s awesome,” said Arnold.

“Nice of you,” said Sasha. “I was just thinking of being a pain in the ass to my enemies, not of being nice to my allies or anything.”

“I remember a lesson about how that’s more typical, and wiser,” I said.

“I’m not sure I’m going to learn anything like this,” said Wiki.

“Wait, that’s why you’re here?” asked Koishi. “To learn, not to just experience things?” Everyone ignored her.

Raghav checked his watch. “Ten minutes have passed. Odd.” I glanced up at the moon. It had moved noticeably.

“Eating history takes time,” said Keine. She wasn’t apologetic; she still looked triumphant, in her hakutaku form.

“If everyone takes that long, we’ll be here for four hours,” said Wiki. “Man, I thought I had a way I could go home.”

“You can!” said Koishi.

“Oh yeah.”

“We’d better get to it!” said Keine. She grabbed Raghav and dragged him toward the battlefield.

–

“Green Forest: Found in the Woods,” said Sasha. Huge spiky trees sprung up all over the battlefield. They were made of green bullets that simultaneously burst outward.

“Wait, why’d we get to see that one?” asked Wiki.

“Which one?” asked Raghav. He glanced at his watch again.

“I saw it,” said Arnold.

“Me too,” said Koishi. “It was beautiful!”

“It was her request that I share it with you three,” called out Keine, forgetting about Koishi. “Next!”

–

The battles were a staccato. I remembered most of each conflict, but never the new spell cards that were used, except for Sasha’s and my own. Instead I would see a simple fight where Keine conceded or one where the student finally lost. Sometimes they’d just stand still for several minutes before an outcome, or the student would run circles around Keine and dodge bullets without any spell cards being used at all, or a bunch of spell cards would be used but the failures on the student’s part didn’t stick.

Wiki was rubbing his temples. “I can discern what’s fake and what’s real, but not what the fake parts are replacing,” he finally said. “I think.”

I tried to guess the rules as we watched. I felt bad for the guy who had to keep his eyes closed, at least until he got a homing attack. The majority of students passed, but there were a few failures.

“I’m sorry,” said Arnold. “I tried, I really did.” He looked morose.

Koishi gave him a hug. “You did well! So many pink hearts!”

“You did produce more than usual,” said Sasha. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up. You’ve done amazingly, especially since you haven’t been working with Satori.” Or Sekibanki, I thought.

“Doesn’t matter, if I lost,” he said. “I have a long way to go.”

“I’ll help however I can,” I said. “Why do you think you struggled?”

“Lust is fleeting,” said Arnold, falling back onto the grass. “Keine said that I needed to find an aspect of my desire that is more central to my soul, and that danmaku based around infatuation was difficult. She complimented me for my compassionate nature, though, and said that I was uniquely capable of figuring out my own soul.” He hit the ground with his fist. “It’s too bad, because Keine is hot as fuck right now! I thought it’d be easy!”

“Next time we can take the test together, okay?” said Wiki. “And the other two can help us practice, at least.”

Arnold sighed. “Thanks, buddy. Yeah, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.” I thought it would be good to keep that in mind.

“You came for your friends,” said Koishi. Wiki shrugged. “They are glad you are here.”

The moon reached its zenith. A blast of rainbow light, like a ray of sunlight or a rocket exhaust, came down from the heavens and bathed Keine. She changed back into her schoolteacher self.

“Odd,” said Wiki, sitting up.

“Run!” screamed our teacher. The student she had been about to test took off toward the village, but a black trident fell and pierced him in the back. He hit the ground with a scream that became a gurgle.

“That’s not danmaku!” I shouted, leaping to my feet. We were all moving.

Three youkai descended on Keine. Three more attacked the humans by the lake. Raghav and I moved to defend with danmaku, and the others joined soon after, but already red, green, and blue danmaku were flying through the air and making our allies submit.

Arnold swung his ax, but dropped it as he was hit and forced to kneel. I sprayed vectors up at a woman who–

–a woman with hair that was–

–someone whose features escaped me. The only part I could see was that she had a black trident in her hands.

“Who are they?!” I shouted. “Youkai Offering: Conviction Mines!” Red starbursts appeared, but far fewer than earlier. My heart wasn’t in it–they had murdered someone and were probably going to murder us, too. I could not compromise!

“I don’t know!” shouted Wiki, ducking a bullet. “I can’t identify–” He was cut off as danmaku hit him. He kneeled on the ground beside Arnold. The other martial artists were also down.

Sasha ducked into one of my mines. Bullets hit the cage, destroying my own vectors, but not reaching her. The danmaku winked out when it collided. A moment later another mine exploded and for the briefest second I realized the youkai that set it off had black hair and creepy asymmetrical wings. It was a youkai I recognized, but one whose name I could never remember anyway.

“Get that one,” said one of our attackers in a soft voice. She practically whispered. A youkai hit the ground beside me. “Non-lethally,” she added in her scratchy tones.

I was clawed through by something which stung, but did no damage. Suddenly I felt weak and fatigued. I started to cough. The compulsion overcame me, and I knelt. The youkai tied my hands behind my back, wrapping them in tape, or saran wrap. I couldn’t see what it was.

She went around tying the others who had fallen.

“Perfect Golden Bullet,” said Raghav. A yellow sphere escaped him and chased the trident-wielding youkai. It wasn’t fast, but it was homing and forced her to keep moving. She hit another mine, and I saw that her dress was spiky. A moment later my mines dissipated.

Green trees blossomed everywhere, pelting our attackers with their leaves. Sasha went down next. They were youkai–a group of powerful youkai, which was supposedly something you rarely ever fought. They withstood our attacks and defeated us.

The battle was over as fast as it had begun.

Keine walked away under compulsion, leaving us alone with our captors. She was back to her blue self, hiding under her paralune, which was probably another compulsion. Down the way, one of the youkai descended on the corpse of the unlucky student and did things I could not watch. There was crunching and slurping.

“This is why people have been disappearing,” said Wiki, his voice heavy with despair.

We were forced to kneel and wait for the attackers to regroup. Of the six, it would appear that only one was interested in eating the flesh of humans at that particular moment.

Sasha jerked when her compulsion faded. She stood up and blasted one of them with green blades. The trident youkai stabbed her and she fell to the ground.

“Stop that,” said the Quiet one. “Several of them are under Remilia’s protection.”

“Alright,” said Trident. “These humans sure do overcome the compulsion quickly.”

“Fickle creatures,” said Quiet. “Easily persuaded, easily distracted.”

Trident kicked Sasha, who moaned. “Only one down so far, maybe two. How many of them are we going to kill?” The first youkai seemed excited at the possibility of sticking more of us.

“Half?” suggested a second shorter one, who had nothing else to set her apart except the eagerness in her voice. “Really, we only need to leave one alive…right…?”

“No, that’s too many,” said one with a red umbrella. The third youkai descended from the sky and landed smoothly. “We feed on the ones that survive, you greedy idiot.”

“Speak for yourself,” said the fourth youkai, who was returning from her meal. I couldn’t see her features, but I could see she was a messy eater. Blood stained her snout. “We should save most of them for later, though.” Her voice was like a snarl.

“I’m not carrying them back,” said the fifth one, who had tied us up.

“Yeah well…” said the Short one. “They don’t deserve to live, so let’s just take care of ‘em now?”

The sixth and last youkai, who had whispered about taking me down, shook her head.

“We are sending a message,” said Red Umbrella. “Too few or too many are both bad. As much fun as it would be to kill them one-by-one over the next several months, we’ve seen that strategy doesn’t work. The humans in the village are stupid. We need to make this clear. We will kill five of them.”

“And we can take out the powerful ones, now,” said the Short one, rubbing her hands. “The weaklings didn’t matter. This is a good message. A good compromise.”

“Too many,” said the Quiet one. “Five is too many.”

“Who’s the most powerful here?” asked Red Umbrella. “Who makes the decisions?”

“You,” chorused Trident, Short, Bloody, and Ropes. Red Umbrella looked down at the Quiet one.

“You,” the youkai finally whispered.

“We are killing five.”