That evening Renko came by to demonstrate one of her supposed powers. We all went outside and climbed onto the roof of our dorm with the help of a ladder that we’d borrowed from a certain kappa. Our dorm was two stories tall, so we’d have a much better view of the horizon from the roof.

“This is fun!” said Maribel as she climbed up first. The girl was fearless.

“It’s dangerous,” said Wiki. He was stabilizing the ladder.

“That’s why it’s fun.”

“Do you think it’s possible that I die from falling off a roof, and Remilia just couldn’t get here fast enough to catch me?”

“I doubt it,” said Arnold as he went up. Sasha was right behind him, and when the other two hesitated I went next. My ability to fly was the only reason I could make it work with my leg brace, and probably the only reason I was willing to go at all.

“You go first,” I heard Renko say from below. “Don’t treat me differently because I’m a woman.”

“He’s treating you that way because he’s a coward!” called down Sasha. A hushed argument ensued. It was Wiki who came up the ladder next. Maribel and Arnold stabilized it from both sides, from the top, so that Renko could safely ascend.

Thus the six of us were on the roof of our dorm. We all laid on the magically-imported shingles and stared up at the sky.

“Where’s the hole?” asked Maribel. I’d forgotten about it.

“It doesn’t get bright until later,” said Wiki. “It's presumably the early morning in the Outside World, before the sun has risen.”

“I see,” said the girl in a lilac dress.

“That kind of nullifies this demonstration…” lamented Renko. “The constellations look similar, at least.”

“I think the passing time is closer now than ever before,” said Wiki. “Just offset by a few hours, or a few days I suppose.”

Renko was the only one sitting up to look at the stars. She was looking quickly between the points of light, thinking thoughts I couldn’t imagine. “It’s so beautiful. No awful satellites to get in the way.”

“Why didn’t we do this on Monday?” asked Arnold.

“Because it was cloudy,” said Renko. I realized that this was shaping up to be the longest week I’d ever experienced. “Now shut up and listen.”

She pointed into the sky.

“First, I locate Polaris, the North Star. It's not the brightest star in the sky, but it's easy to find using the Big Dipper in Ursa Major.”

“You’ve lost me,” I said.

“The two stars at the front of the Dipper's bowl point directly to Polaris.” That helped. Even I knew what the big dipper looked like, because I’d seen it in photos. “Now, I use the circumpolar constellations to gauge the time. The Big Dipper is rotating counterclockwise around Polaris, and its handle is pointing downward. Cassiopeia, that big "W" in the sky, is high up, almost directly overhead. This suggests it's around ten thirty local time.”

“That means you're violating the nighttime travel rules,” said Sasha.

“No they aren’t!” shouted a witch who was flying somewhere overhead.

Traveling through the village at night was allowed, as long as either Marisa or Reimu was with you. We waved at the part of the sky that had talked. I couldn’t see the witch, but I was glad that she was high up and on the lookout for danger. With four heroines–Reimu, Marisa, Sanae, and Youmu–they each had six or perhaps seven hour shifts. The exact schedule hadn’t been made public for security reasons.

“Anyway,” said Renko. “I confirm the time by checking the position of the autumn constellations. The Great Square of Pegasus is high in the eastern sky, with Andromeda extending from it. Perseus is rising in the northeast, below Cassiopeia. These positions are consistent with mid-evening in early October.”

“Of course,” said Sasha. “Obviously.”

“Now, let's look at the Moon. It's a waning gibbous moon, about three or four days past full. It's rising in the east, thirtyish degrees above the horizon. I can see it's just entering the constellation Taurus.

“Using my knowledge of lunar positions, I estimate that the Moon would be in this position relative to the stars at around one thirty PM GMT on... I don't know, October second. That would make local time ten thirty PM on October first, because we are about nine hours ahead of GMT.”

“Nice subtraction,” said Maribel.

“Amazing,” said Sasha. Renko continued as though they hadn’t spoken.

“To calculate longitude, I multiply this nine hour difference by fifteen degrees per hour, which gives me one hundred and thirty five degrees. Since I'm ahead of GMT, I must be east of the Prime Meridian.

“Therefore, my best estimate of our longitude is approximately 135°E to 140°E.”

“And latitude?” asked Arnold. She shrugged.

“Maybe 35°N. I can only guess from what’s visible.”

“That’s in the middle of Japan,” said Wiki.

“You memorize coordinates too?” I asked.

“No,” he admitted. “We’re in Gensokyo, though, so it’s a pretty safe bet.”

“I don’t think we’re anywhere on Earth,” said Maribel.

“I agree,” said Renko. “That beautiful sky… empty of distractions… I’ve never seen one like it.” She finally laid down like the rest of us. “There is at least one good thing about being in Gensokyo.”

We lingered on the roof for a bit, but fortunately Wiki was nice enough to put a stop to things before I had to leave for my meeting with Sekibanki.

–

“I’m glad to see you here,” said Sekibanki as she sat down beside me in the darkness. I looked at the faint glint of her red hair and the white glow of her ghostly necks, which all ended in tatters a few inches away from her body.

It was the witching hour, and we were alone. With Yukari missing it might have been the closest we’d ever been to having actual privacy. On the other hand, Yukari could have decided to mix up her sleep schedule and pretend to be missing, so we might be observed after all. It would be just my luck if she returned three days later while I was skulking around at night.

I looked up at the bright spot in the sky where sunlight from the Outside World was leaking in. It didn’t brighten the landscape or cast shadows. It was anomalous in many ways.

“I’m glad to see you too,” I said. “Are you worried about Marisa catching us?”

“Not as long as we hide under these trees,” said Sekibanki. “If she does catch us, though, I’m going to tell her I was tempting you with coitus.”

“Uh… I don’t think she’d buy it.”

“What, am I not pretty enough?” asked Sekibanki, her eyebrow raised. She laughed at me before I came up with a response. “It’s a known method of feeding. You have no idea how terrified people get if your head falls off while you are undressing.”

I found myself imagining it a bit too thoroughly. One of her heads blew some air in my ear unexpectedly and I jumped.

“Simpler methods work on you.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Any idea how I can learn to see in the dark?” I asked, changing the subject. It was on the list, and it would be useful the next time I went underground.

“Become a youkai.”

“That’s illegal,” I said.

“Many desirable things are. Like meeting at night.”

I gave her a weak smile, and she responded by having one of her heads float over to look at my face directly. The head studied me, so I studied it back.

“You seem tired,” I said. Sekibanki had dark circles behind her red eyes. Despite her apparent good mood, the head looked somewhat upset as well, like she was trying to puzzle something out.

“I am,” she said. “And hungry.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I think it is a common sentiment in the human village right now.”

“Human town,” I said. Her body shrugged beside me.

As a matter of fact, the humans were suffering quite a lot from Yukari’s absence. I told her a bit about how we were scrambling to come up with enough food without the gap youkai.

“We’ve banned slaughtering hens for meat, even the old ones,” I said. “Some have been stolen already. There wasn’t a large store of food or anything, so now we’re preparing to eat all kinds of unpalatable plants. Things that grow on the side of the road.”

“That’s going to anger nature spirits.”

“We are preparing for that too,” I said.

“I empathize,” said the youkai with a nod. “I am also forced to eat unpalatable things.”

“The crops have stopped maturing supernaturally fast,” I said, relaying information from Wiki and Arnold, who had gone to work in the fields several times. “Minoriko Aki said that the burden is too much, and she is weakened. It’s making things difficult.” Arnold had spent three sentences describing how the harvest god’s boobs had shrunk, and that was two and a half sentences too many. I decided to leave that detail out. “Do you know of any way we can help her?”

“Battle against her with danmaku.”

“Will it strengthen her?” Perhaps I could be useful to the village without adventuring.

“Perhaps. It will also make her sacrifice her health, so that you avoid starving.”

I grimaced. “We won’t do that.”

“Not ruthless enough,” said Sekibanki, shaking her head. “I hope you come to your senses before you are too weakened to battle at all.”

“Well, those were my first few questions. Do you have any for me?”

“A few…” she said, appraising me further. “I’m surprised you aren’t angry.”

“Why would I be angry?” My brain tried to answer and came up blank.

Sekibanki stuck out her hand and rubbed her chin from where her body was sitting, like she was scratching a dog–but the dog was her own head. Her arm was parallel to the ghostly light connecting her head to her body.

The tether was thick at that distance, but I could see at least four other streamers fading as they led away. Finally Sekibanki sighed.

“I played a role in the attack on the village. I expected to have to give you an explanation. I did not expect–” she said a name, and my mind refused to integrate it– “to grow in power, while the rest of us are all fading. Can you even remember the attack?”

“Of course I–” I said, before I stopped myself short. I stood up, and the youkai’s head rose to stay level with my own. “I remember two attacks from youkai. One on the night of the full moon, and one shortly after Yukari disappeared. During the day.”

Her head wore a mischievous grin. I spoke slowly and seriously as I started to pace.

“How many attacks have there been?”

“You are lucky that I’ve decided to be truthful with you. There have been five.”

“What!”

“But three of those were solitary actors abducting a human at night,” added Sekibanki. She laughed softly. “There have only been two major attacks, and you’ve been there for both.”

“Oh.” I had known about the humans disappearing, something that stopped after we instituted our stricter nighttime rules. Deceiving me about it to scare me, even temporarily, wasn’t very nice of her… but she had said she was hungry. I tried not to take it personally.

“So you do remember it?” asked Sekibanki. “You remember someone dragging the other monsters away?”

“That… that was you,” I said. “Your body was a bunch of basketball-sized spheres–your heads!”

She nodded by bobbing her head straight up and down. “Just so.”

“I–”

“You undoubtedly remember that I called off the attack, and saved many human lives, yes?” She was staring at me intently. “You remember that I’m the voice of restraint in the group of murderers?”

“I suppose.” Her face was very close to mine.

“That’s all I wanted to explain,” said Sekibanki. “You’re welcome.” Her head zoomed back to her shoulders and she was no longer facing me.

“I don’t think it makes sense to praise you for refraining from murder,” I said. “That’s just basic decency.”

“I have not only refrained from murder, but I’ve convinced others to do the same,” she said.

“That’s true.”

“If it’s not important to you, I could always start murdering again.”

“I would then express my disapproval in the strongest possible terms,” I said.

“And those are?” she asked. Before I could answer she stood and began to walk. “Let us practice danmaku. I am hungry.”

“Does everybody just want a piece of me?”

“Pardon?”

“Forget it,” I said as I hobbled behind her.

We ran from shadow to shadow until we were outside the village. Then we went a little ways into the woods, so that our lightshow wouldn’t attract the attention of a patrol.

–

We battled and Sekibanki defeated me. The compulsion was to rest, which I appreciated.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said from the ground. “I injured myself recently.”

“I heard,” said Sekibanki. “The troll had nothing but mean things to say about you.”

“Figures.”

“It means you’re doing well,” she said. “At least, in the troll’s eyes. She insults only the most worthy people she knows.”

“If I were more worthy, I’d probably have stuck the landing,” I said, but the compliment did warm me. I got to my feet.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t repair your leg.”

“Wait, that was you too?” I asked as I lost my balance.

“Oh,” she said. “I thought it was obvious. I can reattach limbs, you recall?”

“I thought that was just your own head.”

She nodded. “And your hat. You should find it again, it suits you.”

“Thanks.”

“Well. I snuck into the hospital to try to reattach your broken bones. It didn’t work because there was metal in the way and I was already tired from…” she sighed. “From doing the same for others.”

“Well, thank you,” I said. I was dismayed. I should have refused surgery after all.

“You’re welcome.” I briefly talked to her about the possibility of removing the metal plate and trying again, and she shook her head. “I’m too weak right now, and the doctor would have one of my heads for undoing a surgery. A severed limb and a broken leg aren’t all that similar. I didn’t think it would work in the first place.”

“Damn. Thanks for trying.”

“Next time, ask for dismemberment.” A head flew in low and swapped with her main head. She continued speaking. “That Miss Konpaku is awfully considerate.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Either way, fixing my leg is definitely beyond basic decency. I didn’t even ask you to help.”

“I felt pity for the weakened human,” she said, shrugging in a way that made her head wobble around. “The ancient doctor didn’t stop me from trying, probably because I was so confused about my motivations, myself. Many people are confused. I don’t think she’s as weakened as the rest of us.”

“Why is everybody weakened?” I asked. Sekibanki pointed up at the hole in the sky, and I nodded. “Does that mean that attacks on the village are more likely, because youkai are hungry?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said, not emitting any fear whatsoever, not that I could detect. “I’ll try to give you warning, and try to make it so that we only scare people. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t.” I thought about the situation a bit as we made our way back toward the village. “Are you sure you aren’t helping me so that I can go underground again, and perhaps feed your other friends?”

We walked on quietly for a while.

“I can have more than one reason for wanting to do something,” said Sekibanki, finally. “I’ll admit, I was thinking of Wakasagihime when I tried to mend your leg.”

“Your compassion for your friends comes from the same place as wanting to help me,” I said. “Thank you.”

“I already said you’re welcome. Stop bothering me.”

“With that in mind, can you tell Parsee to not torture me to death if she beats me in danmaku?”

“Not so directly, not without arousing suspicion,” she said. “And I don’t have to say anything. If she tries, Remilia will run her through.”

“As long as she knows that,” I said, even though it was no longer true.

“She might not listen if I was the one to say it, anyway. Torturing you to death would be delicious.” Sekibanki nodded to herself. “By the way, do you have any retirement plans?”

“Technically no,” I said. I swallowed. Sekibanki’s sense of humor was unsettling, but I was pretty sure that she was joking. “What does my fear taste like, by the way?”

“Blood,” she said. “Obviously.”

“And Sasha’s?”

“It tastes like her blood.” Sekibanki tilted her head. “That’s how all human fear tastes. Like blood.”

“Not to me,” I said. Sekibanki stopped and her head turned to face me. Her eyes were wide.

“You can taste fear?” she asked, licking her lips. Another head came in and joined her neck, suddenly disappearing. Her eyes grew a bit less tired.

“As a matter of fact, I can,” I said. “I have a bunch of questions about it.”

“Me. Too.”

“The first is most important. Am I turning into a youkai?”

Sekibanki smiled wide. “Yes.”