The days passed quickly. Construction had reached a fever pitch; we were painting walls, laying carpet, and installing fixtures. Work crews liked to chat, and only one thing was on everyone’s lips.

The youkai wanted us dead.

Of course they wanted us dead; they ate people. They’d eaten at least three, or maybe thirty, or who knows how many. We might not have been the first group to come to Gensokyo.

They wanted us dead; they were growing impatient and hungry, and couldn’t hold back anymore. They were getting brazen. Yukari teased them with treats, and now they were beginning to snap.

They wanted us dead; why else would Miko the absentee landlord establish police now? Why was there a new curfew, now? Things had changed; a fantasy, to a nightmare.

Gensokyo was dangerous before, but it was a fake sort of danger, like a wall socket or the threat of starvation. Something you could think about but that never actually happened. The youkai of Gensokyo had attacked the humans to cull them. The danger had become real. We saw the deadly arc; we saw the empty larder; the darkness was scary again. As we worked to exhaustion, we still found ourselves jumping at every noise in the night.

Most of the humans had stopped leaving the village, but I was relieved to return to the Scarlet Devil Mansion so that my body could get a rest from all the work. I felt bad for the poor martial artists; they never got a break. Neither did Maroon, it would seem.

“The cat says me-oh,” said Maroon. She was reading a children’s book. Not merely looking at the pictures, but actually reading it. I felt an immense pride and fondness for the diminutive fairy, like she was a transformer cluster I’d architected myself.

“Meow,” I said. “The cat says ‘meow’.”

“Are you sure it isn’t ‘nyan’?” she replied, scratching her head. She put out a hand like a paw. “I’m pretty sure they say ‘nyan’ and ‘rawr’ and ‘are you gonna eat that corpse?’”

“Perhaps,” I said, “but this book says ‘meow’.”

“I wish we had a cat at the Scarlet Devil Mansion.” She looked over at Patchouli, who was still reading. “But Miss Knowledge has all her gees, so we got a fox instead.”

“A fox?” I asked. I pulled out my notebook.

“Allergies,” the librarian corrected her. “You are almost ready for a reading comprehension test. Good work, Maroon.”

“Thank you!” she said. “I can’t wait until I can read!”

“You kind of can already,” I said. “Once you pass the test it will be official.” And I’d get the ability to fly. I also couldn’t wait.

Maroon smiled at me, and for a moment it seemed like her wide eyes were sunken and bloodshot. I blinked and it disappeared.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked.

“Never better!” she said. I frowned down at her.

“You seem tired. You are sleeping, right?”

“Eh, a little. I don’t sleep much.”

“It varies from fairy to fairy,” explained Patchouli. “Most fairies sleep an hour a night or less. Maroon likes to stay up and watch the stars.”

“And wait for sunrise. It’s so beautiful! But lately I’ve been practicing.”

“Yeah well…” I said. “You can take your time to learn to read, Maroon. Don’t overdo it.”

“Thanks! Reading is hard work!”

“Tell me about it,” said Patchouli, who never stopped. Just then, Needles flew by overhead at high speed, causing the papers on the desk to flutter and scatter. Maroon yelped. Patchouli gestured and a gob of mud flew from her hand, but it missed the green fairy. It hit a shelf and evaporated a moment later.

“You’re too slow!” called back Needles, before getting struck by magical lightning. Maroon shook her fist at the smoking fairy, who disappeared over the shelves.

“I hate pranks,” said the fairy. “Needles likes to…”

“Needle you?” I offered.

“Yeah! Why can’t she just leave us alone? We’re trying to do something important here!”

“Maroon,” said Patchouli with a gentle voice. “Why don’t you go outside and play for a bit? Take a break, and pluck some flowers?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. I want to talk to Mister Thorne for a bit. Alone.” I tilted my head. “You’ve done so well, but resting is important too.”

“Okay!” said Maroon, before grabbing a book and flying off. Patchouli watched her go, and kept staring at the door after it closed.

There was a moment of awkward silence after the fairy went out the door. I was left with a sense of unease, and I knew I wasn’t the only one. I could practically feel it coming off the librarian as she stared at the doorway. To see her think for that long without a book in her face was more frightening than a forest gone silent, or a shoreline that receded before a rumbling wave.

“Are we pushing her too hard?” I asked.

“You sensed it too, then,” she said. “Reading is not natural for fairies. It strains them, to adhere to human contrivances like the written word.” She went on to explain how their new hires had adjustment periods where they became more comfortable with the maid outfits and staying indoors for a large part of the day. “Fairies are uniquely adaptable among youkai, which is part of why we like hiring them. However, change needs to be applied slowly for their mental health. Maroon is outstanding among even the fairies for her willingness to change, but I worry about her.”

“She’s taken to reading very quickly.”

“Yes. Maroon has always strived to please. That is also unnatural for a nature spirit. Most have no desire to fit into a system or society.” Patchouli rubbed her chin. “Mister Thorne, it was good that you gave her that card.”

“Oh?”

“Giving gifts to the fey helps reinforce their nature. In fact, you should come here with another gift, to help keep Maroon psychologically healthy.”

“I will, then,” I said. “Of course I will. Any suggestions?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Try Kourindou. Go for something natural, and red, of course.”

“Of course.” I looked at the librarian. She’d returned to reading, and as I watched her purple hair shifted and covered her face. “So, I have a bit of an awkward question.”

“Now is a good time for such things,” said the librarian. She turned a page. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s super obvious that Lady Remilia still drinks human blood,” I said. “But have you tried alternatives? Animal blood, perhaps?”

Patchouli sighed. “I thought you were going to ask for something uncouth, which would have been less offensive.”

“Erm–” I recalled that Patchouli had a lot of erotic manga. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Do you ask about blood from mere curiosity, or a desire to do good?” She turned another page.

“Both. If you didn’t need blood, your lives would be a lot easier… and humans would have less to worry about as well, of course.”

“Well, whatever you’re thinking of, assume we tried it,” said Patchouli. “Animal blood doesn’t work. It lacks magical capacity, although ascended animals might be different in that regard. They become youkai, and youkai blood is hit-or-miss.”

“So you accept blood from youkai.” I had strongly suspected it, what with Patchouli and Meiling’s neck injuries.

“We accept blood from all that are willing to provide it. It’s hard to find a youkai that is powerful enough to regenerate from regular donation, and whose blood is safe to consume.”

“Someone like a dragon, then.”

“Perhaps,” she said, her eyebrow going up. “Do you know any?”

“I, well, I suppose I’m not sure.”

“Good,” said Patchouli with a smile. “Anyway. Human flesh works somewhat, as food, but ultimately the magical properties of blood are better capable of meeting a vampire’s needs. Those very properties make blood difficult to acquire, and difficult to produce artificially.”

“Well–”

“Before you ask, I can’t duplicate blood like I copied your kidney. It doesn’t work that way.” Eirin had told me as much already, with her warning about my kidney not coming with new blood. Patchouli went on to talk about structures and symmetry. Liquid had no symmetry. She warned me not to break my spine.

“I was going to suggest something else,” I said. “What about changing Lady Remilia instead? So she could eat something else? Like Cirno changed one of her aspects to be ‘power’?”

The librarian said nothing.

“Perhaps she could learn to live on cow’s blood if you went slowly enough, or, I don’t know, on something that’s easier to acquire.” I didn’t suggest any bodily fluids in particular. Maybe Remilia could become a fruit juice vampire, or a vampire of chicken eggs, or a vampire of red tea.

“It won’t work,” said Patchouli.

“Have you tried?”

“Vampires are unchanging, Mister Thorne. That is fundamental to their nature. They do not age. Their biological processes are all but halted. Becoming a vampire means crystallization of personality and form, as though one were frozen in time, so no, they can’t be changed.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Well, that can’t be true. Lady Remilia has amassed incredible power since becoming a vampire.”

“Fair enough,” said Patchouli, her jaw tight. “But that isn’t a counterargument.” Patchouli flipped ahead a few pages, her thumb tight against the corner of the book. Maybe she’d already read it.

“Are you telling me that Lady Remilia was already a natural leader at… twelve years old?”

“Vampires fundamentally can’t learn, or advance. Remilia will never grow up; she will never feel a woman’s infatuation for a man; she will forever have to squash a girlish nature that makes her impatient and bored. Although she can form new memories, they fade quickly. After just a few years.”

“So…”

“In fact, she was not a natural leader at age twelve. New skills themselves are changes that one has to undergo.”

“Then how–”

“Remilia has become the leader of the Scarlet Devil Mansion by keeping a very, very thorough diary.” She turned a page. “If you tell others about this, be sure to mention that it’s backed up, encrypted, guarded by all kinds of demons and at least one memetic hazard, and that those are just half of the security measures.”

“Understood.” I looked at the crescent moon pin in her cap as she continued to read. “That’s incredible. It must be a long book indeed.”

“Ha! Every morning she uses her power to manipulate fate, to turn to the page or pages that she’ll need most. It’s five pages long as far as Remilia is concerned.” Patchouli stood up and began to pace as she read.

“Still,” I said. “If there were any way to make it so she didn’t need human blood–”

“Believe you me, we tried to change what it means to be a vampire, because if Remilia didn’t have that handicap we’d already rule the world.” Her voice had risen. “We tried, Mister Thorne. We aren’t stupid!”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I just want to help.”

Patchouli Knowledge sighed and sat back down. “You have been helpful, and you continue to be so. There are things you don’t know. I have to remind myself of that.” I had a feeling that these weren’t things, so much as youkai that she hadn’t told me about.

In the lore, Remilia Scarlet had a sister.

“Perhaps you could tell me some of those things?” I asked. I kept my voice quiet–the last thing I wanted to be was too insistent. “I want to know, to the extent that it’s permitted. It would make me better able to help.”

“I’ll consider it,” said the purple-haired witch. “Anyway, this isn’t the subject I wanted to bring up with you.”

“And it wasn’t Maroon, either?”

“I would congratulate you for passing your danmaku exam.”

“Oh, I would be happy if you did,” I said.

She snapped her book shut. “You honestly did it faster than I expected. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I said. I filed the memory away in case I needed to generate some prideful danmaku, later. “It’s kind of funny that I forgot, but I qualify for a library card now, don’t I?”

“Just so,” she said.

Patchouli reached into her dress–and I don’t mean she stuck her hand down the front, I mean that an extra-dimensional space opened up on the side of her chest and she stuck her hand in the opening. It wasn’t like Yukari’s gaps, because there were no creepy eyes. Instead it was a glowing white region.

It was a bit bizarre to see her arm disappear up to her elbow in the side of her dress, and even more so when she dug around for a little bit. I half-expected her to pull out a hammer, but instead she produced a small deck of cards. She spread these across the desk in front of her.

“Which spell card do you want?” asked the librarian.

–

“That sounds more like a lich than a vampire,” said Wiki. “It also means that if we stole her diary we could weaken her severely.”

“I’ll take ‘things that will get me killed’ for one hundred, Alex,” said Sasha.

“Who’s Alex?” asked Arnold.

Sasha explained an older game show that would appear on daytime television, one where people tried to come up with questions that fit answers.

We had a diversion about the worthiness of game shows as entertainment. Wiki said that they were empty wish-fulfillment, an opportunity for the audience to pretend that they’d do better in the circumstances than the contestants, and Sasha said that Wiki was a stick in the mud. The only thing we agreed on was that if Wiki stole Remilia’s diary he’d be putting his life in jeopardy.

“I don’t think we should weaken Lady Remilia,” I said. “Ultimately she’s a force for good in Gensokyo, isn’t she?”

“She’s a literal blood-sucking vampire who was about to murder you last week,” said Sasha. “She bullies other youkai into serving her, she pushes the tenets of capitalism onto her subjects, and she is stuck up and snotty.”

“And she might not even be worthy of moral consideration,” added Wiki. “Depending on your philosophy.”

“I’ll take ‘things it is dangerous to say aloud’ for… two hundred,” said Arnold.

“Personally, I don’t think human beings are worthy of moral consideration without the written word.”

“Wut?” said Arnold, frowning.

“You know… writing… it elevates you?” Wiki glanced around at our blank stares. “Humans without writing are little better than monkeys!”

“That’s evil,” said Sasha.

“Monkeys are pretty cool,” said Arnold. “I think they have moral weight.”

“I was joking anyway,” said Wiki. He admired his noteboard. “That she uses a diary changes very little, is my point. In fact… it even makes me like her more.”

“Yeah, well,” I said. “She protects the fairies, and nobody dies while feeding her or her sister. Lady Scarlet is not so bad.”

“In canon, she and her sister are heavily implied to eat people,” Wiki responded. “It never says where they get them, but it is implied that they are criminals that make it to Gensokyo, let in by Yukari for that very purpose.”

“So the mystery is solved then,” said Arnold. “We really are just food.”

“Well… with falling criminality worldwide… maybe they’ve already had to adjust their diets?” Wiki put a sticky note on the board after noting this as another possibility to consider. You almost couldn’t see the images of the monstrous Satori or the anime-style Koishi underneath all his ideas.

“She saved humans from Yuuka,” I said.

“She hated every minute of it,” countered Sasha.

“But she did it. Lady Remilia isn’t exactly… aligned with our goals, but she’s somebody we can work with.” I went to pet our chicken, Emeff. “It’s like…”

“You prefer the devil you know,” suggested Arnold.

“Not quite,” I said.

“She’s a mob boss, and you’re a corrupt cop,” said Sasha.

“Closer?”

“If that’s anybody it’s Raghav,” said Wiki with a sigh. Wiki was assisting him in drafting laws for the human village, which would be voted upon. Wiki had been the one to insist on a vote. The laws provided for establishing a police force of ordinary humans, with Hakurei Reimu assuming a role like the National Guard. “But I’m starting to see it, yeah. Remilia isn’t killing people currently. Let’s keep thoughts about messing with her diary a mere contingency.”

“In case you want her to fulfill her prophecy directly,” said Sasha.

“Anyway, you said you had two pieces of information?”

“Oh yeah!” I said. “I got a new spell card! It turns out ‘Library Card’ means that Patchouli Knowledge will share one of her spells with you.” Wiki’s eyes widened.

“Which one?” he asked.

“Fire Sign: Akiba Summer.”

I felt a twinge as the spell didn’t happen; named spells wanted to go off, but we were in the village so I wasn’t supposed to use it. The ease of engaging the danmaku was a major advantage of using spell cards instead of ‘free’ danmaku. It was more automatic.

Also, Patchouli had complimented me for learning it so quickly. I had a lot of pride ready to go.

“That’s a fire lasso from the fighting games,” said Wiki. “Why that one?”

“I have an affinity for fire, apparently,” I said. “She tested me. Also, I wanted something that would force my enemy to move a lot, so that they might step in my mines and set them off.”

“You can only use one spell card at a time,” he said.

“Fuck.”

“Can you aim it or does it always go in a circle?”

“It’s complicated. Actually, I’ve got to go to Kourindou anyway–shall I show you on the way?”

I was so glad to be able to leave the village without an escort, even if it was only during the day. I demonstrated the spell and its limitations as we walked to the store on our own.

–

Kourindou was the same as ever. Morichika Rinnosuke greeted us with a subtle smile and a friendly word. We went to browse; most of the items hadn’t changed much since our last visit, or indeed since we’d come to Gensokyo. If they turned over rapidly, fewer of them would be so old.

Wiki had observed that many recent technologies were absent from Kourindou entirely. There were no smart TVs that might send data back to a server, or desktop assistants that might try to return to their owner.

I found myself staring at a cold dead lava lamp. The only thing it had going for it was that it was red.

“What’s this for?” I asked Rinnosuke, mostly because I wanted to hear his answer. He frowned.

“Two things. Generating random numbers, and also as a soothing source of distraction for humans in psychologically altered states. I would not expect you to find much use for it, Mister Jake… I expect an oni will purchase it instead.”

“On account of them enjoying ‘altered states’?”

“On account of their home’s proximity to lava,” he said. He picked up the glass container of the lamp, which normally sat in the heater base. “It’s called a lava lamp. I haven’t been able to get it to turn on without the Earth’s heat. Its power requirements must be immense.”

“It’s powered by electricity,” I said.

“Ah,” he said, looking at the plug for the lamp. “I thought it also generated geothermal power. It seems I had it backwards. Thank you, Mister Jake.”

“You’re welcome. Perhaps you could help me find something? I’m looking for something red to give as a gift.”

“Why?” asked Wiki from a manga section he’d already read.

“It’s for Maroon,” I said. “She’s been studying hard, so she needs a gift to help her remain motivated. Patchouli suggested it.”

“She is one of my most reliable customers,” said Rinnosuke. “As for a gift for a fairy, I recommend food items.” He dug through a box behind the counter and produced a can of beets. I looked over the unrecognizable text on the surface.

“This expired in 1965, I think?”

“It is the thought that counts,” he said.

“I think this will give her food poisoning, and she’d eat it anyway.” I set the can down. “How about a candy cane instead? Do you have any of those?” She could stab Needles with it after it got sharp, I thought.

“Apologies, they are out of season and out of stock,” said Rinnosuke. “I have candy corn, also from last century.”

“It’s not red.”

“I have food coloring, or latex paint.”

“What is in season?” I asked. Rinnosuke considered it.

“What about chestnuts? I have a bowl right here.” He showed me a glass jar full of reddish-brown nuts. “These would serve well as a gift for a fairy; they are organic, natural, and pesticide-free, and also harvested this year.”

“What do you think they’re for?” I asked on a whim.

“You eat them,” he said, slowly. “These aren't man-made, Mister Thorne. That makes them particularly suitable for fairies.” He pushed up his glasses. “Despite what you might think, it would be wise to cook them before giving them as a gift. That a human prepares the food is as much a gift as the food itself, as far as the fey are concerned.”

“You know a lot about fairy gifts, huh?” asked Wiki from across the store.

“Of course,” he said. “Fairies very seldom have money. If I give them an item, it is almost always a gift. For example, I recently gave a green fairy a cardboard slip for masking the scents of human travel.”

“Was it pine scented?” asked Sasha.

“Just so,” he replied. “She complained of having to escort humans so often; I wished to help her be more comfortable.”

“You’re a good guy, Mister Morichika.”

“Thank you, Miss Sasha.”

“Since when were you magnanimous?” asked Wiki. “I mean, you’ve never offered us any gifts.”

“You’ve never given me fresh nuts to sell in my store,” he replied.

“Barter,” said Wiki. “You are describing barter.”

“No. I gave the cardboard slip without expectation of any particular return, other than the fairy’s goodwill.” He turned back to me. “You should do the same. You can purchase a bag of chestnuts for ninety-nine rin.”

“Sold!” I said.

“I’ll help you roast them,” said Arnold as we exited the store a few minutes later.

“Also, be sure you describe the interaction carefully,” said Wiki. “Don’t go around saying–”

“That he gave his nuts to a fairy?” interjected Sasha.

“Pfft, yeah.”