Reimu and Yukari had an argument. I, like many others, held my breath.

“This is not my job, Yukari! I do not take apprentices!”

“Understandable, commendable even. However, these are not your apprentices. You will only need to be here for a few sessions at most, Miss Kamishirasawa has assured me.”

“Now–” started the teacher.

“How many exactly?” said Reimu. She was halfway to shouting. The shrine maiden threw her hair behind her head and I saw that she was holding her purification rod, the stereotypical tool of shrine maidens. At least Reisen hadn’t drawn her gun.

Reimu was a human, and Yukari was a youkai. Would it come to blows? Were we safe, standing around at this distance? They’d fought before, I recalled, but it had been calamitous. The crowd grew tighter as the conversation went on.

“This isn’t an incident!” said Reimu. ‘Incident’ is what the games called issues that required Reimu’s intervention, like a youkai trying to take over the world, or the sun disappearing behind red mist, or a hot spring having dirty water.

“It will be, if no heroine steps in to handle it,” said Yukari.

“I’m here,” said Youmu. “Leave it to me.”

“Have ya’ ever even talked to more than one person at a time?” asked Marisa. Youmu opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, possibly because to continue would involve talking to two different people at one time.

Reimu and Yukari continued their argument without the other heroines. They might have been the two most important people in Gensokyo, in addition to being the two most powerful. If the games were to be believed, Reimu could beat literally anyone (except maybe Yuuma, a youkai that could eat your attacks, but that was beside the point). If she fought Yukari, I genuinely did not know who would win.

“Why not bring, I don’t know, Patchouli?” Patchouli Knowledge was the anemic and asthmatic librarian of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, a master of all kinds of magic. Reimu had a point; Patchouli would probably make an excellent teacher. She knew a lot of things.

“Miss Knowledge wasn’t feeling up to a lesson,” said Yukari.

“Did you ask her?”

“Of course not. Her time is very valuable, and I already knew her answer.” Yukari fluttered her fan. Reimu gave her a withering look.

“Okay, what about Sakuya, smarty pants?”

“Miss Izayoi didn’t have the time, either.”

“She can freeze time! She has nothing but time!”

“Frozen or pickled, she didn’t have it.”

“Fine! Uh… Aya?” Shameimaru Aya was a reporter for the local (and only) newspaper, the Bunbunmaru news, and she was also a tengu. Her news was always ‘slightly’ exaggerated. I wondered briefly if she’d increase production runs due to the human village quadrupling in size.

“There are actually a lot of playable characters, aren’t there?” I whispered to Wiki.

“Patchouli isn’t playable, unless you count her role as Marisa’s second weapon partner in Subterranean Animism, or the fighting games.” I regretted whispering to him already. “Nazrin would be a much better choice. I wonder if she was unavailable?” He went on to explain that she’d been a player character twice, then speculated that she was busy helping Hijiri with the Buddhist temple. He then went on to tell me some of the plot of Undefined Fantastic Object, as though he hadn’t told me the exact same plot yesterday, because of Hijiri’s presence.

Nazrin was a mouse youkai known for using her dowsing rods to locate lost items. I didn’t know a lot about her, except that in the fandom she made cheese-related puns. I wondered if she could have used her powers to find me a way out of this whispered conversation.

“Can we Swiss subjects, now?” I tried asking Wiki. He snorted loud enough to draw glances. Then he went on talking about Nazrin.

“She organizes hundreds of mice, she’d be able to handle the crowd.”

“Is she your favorite character or something?” whispered Arnold.

“... no. Shut up.”

Yukari was still talking to Reimu.

“I did ask Miss Kochiya,” said Yukari. Kochiya Sanae was Reimu’s main rival, a green-haired shrine maiden from a shrine that was arguably more popular. “She was ill-disposed.”

“Doesn’t sound like her,” said Marisa.

Yukari fluttered her fan. “She was naked.” I reflexively glanced around for Satori, who could have been reading my mind.

“That explains everything,” said Marisa with a nod.

“She might be dressed now. Shall I go get her, Reimu?”

Reimu sighed. “No, I suppose not. I don’t want this to become even more of a mess than it already is.” That wasn’t fair to Sanae, I was ninety percent sure.

On the other hand, I had expected Reimu to be a raging bitch (her fandom depiction) but she was being positively reasonable, instead. Maybe Sanae was the unreasonable one in the actual Gensokyo?

“How considerate,” said Yukari.

“You owe me.”

“I do,” acknowledged the most powerful youkai in Gensokyo. She tilted her head.

“Money?” asked Reimu with raised eyebrows.

“Oh good, I thought she was an imposter,” said Wiki. Yukari merely smiled and vanished into a gap.

It had not come to blows. They had argued more like coworkers than enemies. Reimu and the others started talking about logistics. I couldn’t hear all of it; the crowd had begun to stir as well.

“What’s going on?” asked Sasha, who was literally pushing people aside to get to us. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a plain kimono instead of her shorts and t-shirt combo.

“You look different,” said Wiki, the most observant person on our team.

“Yeah, I had to borrow an outfit. Also, I asked a question?”

“Oh. Well, Keine doesn’t want to try to teach three or four hundred people how to shoot danmaku on her own, so Yukari called in the calvary.”

“Wait a second,” said Arnold. “Are there horse youkai? Can you ride them?”

“No,” I said, “And definitely not!”

“Yes!” said Wiki. “And not unless you are Miko.” He launched into another lore dump that I decided to tune out immediately. Youmu was calling for everyone to quiet themselves, but most of the crowd was ignoring her. I saw Marisa reaching for something in her pocket, but before she could pull it out and cause a real incident, Reisen’s eyes began to glow.

Suddenly, we were all silent. Reisen had silenced us. She has the ability to manipulate waves, including sound waves, mouthed Wiki.

“Alright, everyone,” shouted Keine. “Here’s how this is going to work. If you have been sorted into odd-numbered dorms, you are dismissed. You may come back on Wednesday for your introductory lesson.”

I saw a lot of men pantomiming disappointment.

“Quit complaining. The rest of you: there are four assistant teachers, and each of you has been sorted into groups of four. So each member of your group will pick a different teacher and follow them. Understood?” I nodded, along with many others. “Good. What’s more, if you bicker too much amongst yourselves, you will be sent home.” Reisen whispered something into Keine’s ear. “Correction: you will be sent back to your dorm. Now disperse.”

Reisen trudged to the south. Youmu lept from rooftop to rooftop toward the north. Marisa took off on her broom to the west. Reimu floated into the air and over the crowd, to the east.

Wiki turned to us and spoke in a smarmy voice. “Time for some decisions. I will be judging you.”

“Go first then, jerkass,” said Sasha.

“Konpaku Youmu,” he said, evenly. “Your turn.”

“Not gonna broker any argument?” I asked, not that I intended to argue.

“No, Youmu is clearly the best to teach us among these four. If that isn’t obvious–”

“Marisa,” said Sasha.

“That means–”

“Nothing, dipshit. Arnold?”

“I was thinking about Reisen,” he said. Wiki raised an eyebrow. “She seems nice.”

“Good,” I said. “I wanted Reimu anyway.”

“That’s because you’re basic,” said Wiki. “All of you, basic as bleach.”

“It’s because she’s got the most experience battling youkai.” It was because she was in charge of the great Hakurei Barrier, which I’d have to run through if I were going to escape from battling youkai.

Sasha was already walking around the schoolhouse. I turned to leave, grateful that our group had an easy time making this decision. Some others were arguing, but I saw group 6D demurredly stop when Keine walked to them to ask what the trouble was. It was amazing how quickly we thought of ourselves as packs of four, rather than individuals.

Now I was missing three-quarters of my party. I walked through the village, in the direction that Hakurei Reimu had flown. The Hakurei barrier was actually named after Reimu, or more likely, her family. The other elective I was considering was ‘Seal Construction,’ on the Boundary Maintenance track.

If Reimu recognized me from this first lesson it would serve many of my goals.

—

Reimu had settled in a field outside the human village. I was one of the first twenty there.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“What a fiasco,” she said, as twenty became forty. “Poor Youmu’s going to half-die from embarrassment.” I thought that no one would be brave enough to respond, but I was mistaken.

“Youmu will rise to the occasion,” said Raghav. His fine clothes still looked great on him. I also suspected he had gotten up early enough to bathe before class. He was an overachiever.

“I’m surprised you even know who she is,” said Reimu. “If you’re a fan of hers, you should have gone there to help her, instead.”

“I’m a greater fan of yours,” he smoothly responded, “Not that I think you’ll need help in the slightest.” Reimu gave him a cool stare.

“Yukari warned me that the newcomers would think they know how things work around here.” She cleared her throat and spoke to the crowd. “My role in Gensokyo is as an Exterminator and Trash Collector.” She stopped short of calling us trash. “If you think that makes me a major player, you are mistaken!”

“You are player one!” someone cried.

“Hold your questions until the end,” she said. “Now, Yukari said that you need a primer on casting danmaku, and some advice on learning to cast it.” She looked out over the forest, then sighed. “This will all make more sense if we talk about youkai, first.”

Reimu took a further moment to gather her thoughts.

“Youkai are bloodthirsty monsters that prey upon human beings,” she said. “Most either eat human beings directly, or otherwise steal things of value from them to consume.”

“Like what?” asked someone. She sighed at the interruption.

“I don’t know, fairies that steal your name.”

“Kappa that steal your soul,” I suggested, and she frowned at me. Probably because, traditionally, kappa extracted your soul through your anus. I really hoped they didn’t eat it, too.

“Japanese youkai are special, because in addition to regularly eating humans, a few of them learned how to feed on human emotions instead. It’s a paradigm we try to get all youkai to adopt in Gensokyo.”

“Are there succubi in Gensokyo?” asked someone else, and Reimu went on as though he hadn’t spoken.

“Emotions are a good thing for youkai to eat, because after you crap yourself in fear, you can just go home and change your underwear.” That’s how you could tell she was human, and not a youkai. Reimu looked around. “I’m getting off topic. The point is, danmaku isn’t a fight where you overpower your opponent to inflict your will on them. It’s a dance, where you present your emotions to placate them. And when they are full of your emotions, which might actually taste quite bad to them, they’ll likely stop with whatever nonsense and agree with your point of view. Naturally, because to feel someone else's emotions is to empathize with them.”

“So danmaku is about force feeding demons?”

She put her purification rod over her shoulder. “No, danmaku is all about empathy, and making things beautiful and easy to accept. The youkai might not even be sated, but once they understand where you’re coming from, that’s enough.”

“I’m confused,” I said, and Reimu didn’t hush me. “Youkai fight each other with danmaku, don’t they? Isn’t that like…” I tried to think of a metaphor better than two cows sucking from each other’s udders.

“One of the conditions of Yukari letting a youkai into Gensokyo, is that they promise to resolve differences peacefully. Almost all monsters are solitary, but here they are confined in close quarters. But youkai argue with each other through danmaku, yes, and the winner is the one whose emotions are stronger.” Reimu sighed. “The winner is left hungry, which can cause problems for me, but it does rebalance things a bit. Power trickles down.”

“Yesterday, Hijiri popped a dude’s head off like a cork,” said a man in yellow.

“Was he using danmaku?” she responded.

“No… but if he was, he would have been safe?”

“Oh heavens no,” said Reimu. “I mean, with Byakuren Hijiri, he could have just agreed to take up Buddhism and she’d probably have given him a free hat.” I made the mental note that there might be specific ways to placate youkai without fighting. “But with other youkai, danmaku doesn’t make you safe at all.”

“Why not?” someone asked. “If they overpower my emotions, I’ll just empathize with them better, right?”

“Yes, and that’s the problem. Their primary emotion toward humans is a desire to eat their flesh. Wanting to be eaten is deadly, however briefly you want it.” The more I thought about the implications, the more horrified I became. I imagined running toward a t-rex with my arms wide open.

“I thought–”

“Everything in Gensokyo is for protecting the youkai, not the humans,” said Reimu. “Stop thinking otherwise. Danmaku is great for battles between youkai, but losing such a battle is often a death sentence for a human. Imagine you’ve been drinking broth for a few decades, and a steak walks up to you and says ‘marinate me!’”

There was a period of silence.

“About the succubi–”

“That’s why danmaku is strictly banned in the human village.” She snapped her fingers. “You’ll have to practice out here, where it’s allowed, but if any youkai show up you should probably just run back to safety.” Someone started walking back. “You’re safe as long as I’m here, though.”

I suddenly remembered that one of Yukari’s rules was that we were not to leave the human village without an escort. Maybe she did care. Not so much that she put a fence around the village, though.

“They won’t eat you?” someone asked.

“Of course not,” Reimu said. “I’m famous as the person who gets to kill youkai if they stop obeying the rules, and I’ll definitely know if they are trying to eat me. Not that it’s inherently against the rules.” She shifted feet. “Also, if they somehow succeeded, Yukari would kick them out of Gensokyo.”

“And unleash them on the rest of the world?”

“Hah, no. Outside of Gensokyo a youkai would evaporate like a bad dream. It’s a death sentence. Especially now, in the modern era.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s beside the point. Let’s talk about danmaku.”

Reimu went on to describe some meditations and exercises we could do to try to manifest our emotions. We were to sit quietly, and feel, then try to imagine what color and shape our feelings were. She told someone who asked about spell cards not to get ahead of themselves. I tried to focus, but I kept getting distracted by thoughts of being eaten.

Not wanting to be eaten was an emotion too, I realized. Maybe even the emotion I wanted to weaponize. I decided to focus on that. I realized I was already familiar with the feeling. The fear of a youkai eating me, and the fear of trading away all my possessions to an AI, were quite similar. Something about the emotion was defeatist, like I was already doomed and just delaying the inevitable.

What would that look like, if it were danmaku?

The thought of being eaten was like a knife–deadly in potential. No, it was like a knife already dripping with my own blood. Like I’d already been stabbed, and it was too late. I was one of a smorgasbord of humans brought to Gensokyo to be eaten, wasn’t I?

The shape of the knife was hard to focus on, which wasn’t surprising. The stab wound would be the really scary part. With the first bite I’d know that the battle was already lost. Long before I actually lost it, I realized. Like bleeding to death after being stabbed, I would be able to see my death coming in slow motion, powerless to change anything… bite by bite.

I’d given one AI or another almost all my possessions before coming to Gensokyo, in the end. I knew what kind of person I really was. I was powerless to change anything.

I shivered in the sunlight of Gensokyo. If any emotion could become an attack, the fear of a slow inevitable death would do it. It was a feeling I’d rather have left in the outside world, but it was powerful.

—

Nothing manifested before Keine showed up to check our progress. I looked up with shock to realize that half of the people there had already left. Someone was arguing with Reimu.

“What if we don’t feel emotions strongly enough for danmaku?” he said.

“Then you’re lying to yourself about your emotions. I suggest you stay in the human village, and give up any endeavor as deadly as fighting with youkai.” Reimu turned to Keine. “What is it?”

“I’m just here to check on your progress.”

“It’s going surprisingly well,” she said. “They are far easier than fairies.”

“Indeed. I also came to suggest that you give a demonstration.” I jumped up.

“Against whom?” asked Reimu. “You?”

“I think not,” said Keine. “Pick a student.” She flew away. I made a mental note to ask Reimu how to fly, as soon as possible.

“How do you fly–” I started, but she was pointing to Raghav.

“Pretty boy, we are going to give a demonstration.”

“Very well,” he said. He stood there, looking at Reimu, and I found myself admiring him just a little bit. After what happened to blondie the day before, I would never have been able to face down Reimu or any other powerful person in Gensokyo.

“I can’t unleash danmaku against you if you don’t look at least a little threatening,” said Reimu.

Raghav adopted a fighting stance and began to move.

“Better,” said Reimu. “Try to strike me.”

He obliged, stepping forward and slicing his hand down, but Reimu hopped back. She swung her purification rod. Nothing happened, presumably because Reimu didn’t want to counter-attack just yet.

“Remember, class, dodging is even more important than striking the enemy. A youkai can withstand a lot of persuasion. You cannot.” Raghav had stopped when she spoke, but she nodded for him to continue.

He made another chopping motion with his hand. Reimu dodged again, and this time a black-and-white yin-yang orb shot out from her purification rod and struck him in the face. He fell backward onto his ass.

“Are you okay?” called Reimu.

“Yes,” he said, getting to his feet. “That hurt less than expected.”

“That’s not a coincidence,” she responded. “To the extent that both participants are trying to understand each other, danmaku will cause less injury.”

“Did you want to hurt me, Miss? A little bit?”

“As little as possible,” she said. “It’s impossible to make it completely painless, of course.”

“Wait a second,” asked the man in yellow. “So, like, Sakuya throws knives?”

“Yeah,” said Reimu. “Very observant.”

“And they don’t hurt?”

“No, they hurt like a bitch,” said Reimu. “They don’t cut you, though, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

The man cracked his knuckles. “I did aerosoft in college. I bet I’d be good at this.”

“I’m not sure what that is, but did you do it against cannibals?” He frowned at Reimu. “Alright. Everybody try to hit me at once. Let’s see what you got.”

Literally no one moved.

“C’mon, you cowards, what’s the worst that could happen?” She jumped from foot to foot. “You’ll never learn danmaku at this rate.”

“You said it would hurt,” observed Raghav.

“No pain, no gain.”

“You’re inviting us to attack,” he said. “You obviously have a plan. We are no fools.”

Reimu sighed. “Fine. This lesson’s coming to you either way. Fantasy Seal.”

All of us started to run as literally hundreds of pieces of paper manifested all around Reimu. She was summoning homing seals glowing with blue and yellow fire. There were also a few dozen rainbow orbs materializing to chase us down.

None of us stood a chance.

I got bapped by the equivalent of a rolled-up newspaper about twenty times in one second. Then a magical orb flew into my face and knocked me on my ass. The attack hit me hard, but it really didn’t hurt me that much.

However, it did damage my favorite shirt. I tore at the papers that were still swarming me and realized they weren’t traditional seals per se. Instead, they were maps of the human village.

“Are you Yukari’s copy machine?” I shouted, halfway sitting up, but Reimu didn’t hear me. I fell back and felt an overwhelming desire for the lesson to just be over. She was busy tracking down the few who had escaped. It turned out that Fantasy Seal couldn’t quite hit all of us at once.

A few moments later, when the desire to leave faded, I realized that it was Reimu who was getting bored of teaching us. My shirt was full of holes and burned in places. At least I, personally, was not injured. I checked my pants, and they had sustained a bit less damage.

Raghav offered me a hand and helped me get to my feet.

“The exception does not extend to clothing?” asked Raghav. He looked down at himself–his fancy shirt and pants were pristine. “Except my clothes?”

“You must be the only one here who identifies with their clothes,” said Reimu. “Good job.”

“That makes no sense,” someone said, taking the words right out of my mouth.

“Oh come on,” said Reimu. “Danmaku won’t kill you, and if you think your clothes are you, it won’t kill them either. Is that so hard to understand?” She pulled at one of her detached sleeves, which was tied halfway up her arm. “Do you really think we wear these ridiculously elaborate outfits for fun?”

“Yes?”

“No way. We wear something bizarre, so that it becomes part of our look, our identity, and thus immune to danmaku.” She brushed her skirt, then waved a hand. “That’s it for today’s lesson. Try casting danmaku yourselves at least once before next week, if you aren’t just going to give up like you should.”

“We’ll have to come out of the village to do that,” said Raghav. “Will you escort us?”

“No. Figure it out. Class is dismissed.”

We started walking back to the human village. I saw Raghav stop, suddenly.

“Pardon me,” he said, before pulling the top of his pants open to look inside. “Hmm. It would appear I do not sufficiently identify with my underwear.”

“Underwear shredded by Reimu,” said someone. “Nice.”