Gu Chapter 10 (Patreon)

In either of my lives, quite a span of years when put together, I couldn’t recall a single instance of more intense awkwardness than this moment. 

The two of us sat across from each other at the kotatsu, both of us avoiding eye contact and refusing to start our conversation. Because how could we? 

How did I put, in exact words, the relationship Reimu and I shared? 

Most of my waking hours were spent with her. We shared a home, our goals, every meal, and to some strange degree, even parents. 

Lord Hakurei had, in one interaction, completely altered the course of my life. Some of his writings in the Hakurei library were foundational to my understanding of ki. That was much more than I could say of my birth parents in this life, who I preferred not to think about and never got along with. 

Not that that kind of thing made one a parent, not even close. But it was something worthwhile. 

“I’ve been wondering for a while now… when are you going to propose to me?” Reimu’s opening, the words graceless and struggled through, pushed themselves through the thick silence that hung between us. 

And they caught me completely flat footed. 

“Propose?” I parroted. “When did… there’s other steps, Reimu.” 

“Well start with those then! I don’t know how… nobody ever told me how to meet a man. I’m pretty sure I want to, um, marry you but…” she trailed off as we both died of mortification. 

That was enough. It was time to man up. If she could power through the awkwardness and get us started I’d do my part and carry the rest. 

“Reimu,” I breathed deeply. “There’s a strong social taboo among humans concerning age and romance. Generally, men above a certain age don’t flirt with young women, and older women are discouraged from flirting with young men. I have over seventy years of memories at this point, and I know my body makes me think more like a teenager, gods do I know it, but the difference in life experience still weighs on me.”

“I don’t care.” She said, blunt as ever. 

“About the taboo?”

“You let Yukari flirt with you and promised Hoshiguma a child. I don’t know how old the oni is, but Yukari is older than Gensokyo by a lot, so at least four hundred. I’d bet she’s more like eight centuries if I had to guess. Age doesn’t bother you, so why should it bother me?”

“After a certain point age stops mattering. It’s development that I’m talking about.”

“Development?” She scowled. “Shin, this is stupid. I’ve looked after myself since I was four years old and I’m not some idiot who can’t make her own decisions or live with the consequences of them. You know that. I don’t think this matters to you at all. What’s the real problem?” Of course she saw right through me. Damnit. 

“Fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “It’s weird, alright? … I’ve never been as close to someone as I’ve been with you.” 

“Huh?” She went so far as to tilt her head, the awkwardness dispelled in the face of pure confusion. 

“I… this needs context. In my past life I didn’t have a lot of friends. I had my brother and sister, but my parents were always distant, so family was out too. The people I’d say I was closest to in my youth all drifted away as we became adults, and the people I knew who stayed were nowhere near as close to me. Or maybe I was never all that close to anyone to begin with.”

“You don’t talk about it a lot,” she said quietly. “Your past life.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” I said, not quite able to hide the bitterness that came with it. “I was an airplane maintenance technician. Those are flying machines, and I worked in the field from when I was twenty until I was fifty eight, practically married to my job. I figured that when I was old and rich enough to retire I’d live my life. Then I died, so it feels like it was all for nothing. Sure, I had people who probably mourned me, but in hindsight it was a pretty shitty life.”

“You just worked and died? You didn’t marry or raise a family?” She asked, fascinated by the idea. Gensokyo was still feudal enough that almost everyone settled down in their early twenties at the latest. The only exceptions were youkai, given the shortage of men of equal station, and outcasts of society like witches and hermits. 

“Well I had a few girlfriends from time to time, but never a lifelong partner. I was never married, to be clear,” she looked pleased by that, something I didn’t judge her for. “What I’m getting at is that I was never close to someone. So… maybe I’ve been antsy about messing that up with you somehow.”

“Oh,” she sighed in relief. “Oh, that’s not bad at all.” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Not bad?”

“Well, I get it. I thought the same thing.”

“You did?” 

“Who do you think I talk to?” She said breezily. “Worshippers are boring if they even want to talk at all, and nobody lives around here. I barely remember my parents, and I’m not so starved for people to talk to that I’d ever befriend a youkai. Well, I wouldn’t go out of my way to do that at least. Why would I when I have you around? Shin, you’re the only person that I like being around.” It wasn’t often that Reimu got to speaking like she was now. I opened my mouth to reply, expecting her to be reserved like always, only for her to keep going, laying everything out on the table. 

“And I don’t mean as in, like, a husband, I just can’t imagine myself being with anyone else but you. You’re the only person who really cares about me. Yukari only uses me in her plots and needs me to maintain the barrier, Mokou is your sensei, not mine, and who else is even around? Even my parents, whose faces I can barely remember, must not have cared that much. If they really cared about me they wouldn’t have left me alone with nothing to remember them by but this shitty shrine and their responsibilities. It’s only you. Only you… you’re the only person who actually cares about me.” 

As she finished pouring her heart out, seemingly entirely by accident, her voice turned small and weak again, only tinged with a bitterness that I had never realized. At that moment, looking away from me across the table, she seemed frighteningly vulnerable. 

Because I had never thought about it. I had always treated myself like an adult, even if I accepted that others might treat me more like a child, and as an adult I was comfortable being alone. Reimu, though, had never been calloused like I had, and although I knew she was possessive of me the reasoning had never fully hit me. 

She was right. Yukari had even admitted that she’d make Reimu immortal if she could. She had known my friend the longest, maybe since she was born, and their relationship was utilitarian on a good day. Everyone else was someone that I had brought to meet her, not someone who had connected with Reimu by their own actions. 

“I never realized that you felt so… alone.” 

“I’m not though. I have you. I’ll always have you, won’t I?” She tilted her head innocently. 

“I don’t know.” That answer, for some reason, seemed to surprise her. 

“What do you mean you don’t know? Where else would you go? Or- or are you planning on leaving Gensokyo entirely? Why?” The words came pouring out again, this time almost fearful. 

“No, no!” I quickly tried to calm her down and noticed that Reimu was close to shaking. The idea of me leaving was that upsetting to her. It couldn’t be just that, I left all the time. Or did she mean leave forever? “I just can’t be around every day! I want to see the world, Reimu, all the magic and the sights and fights and the fascinating people! And I can’t do that from the shrine.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s… how often? How often will you be gone?” She had been rising as if to get out of her seat but now collapsed back down to the cushion. A note of stress lingered on her voice. 

“I don’t know, it depends on the trip. Bringing Sariel to Europe will take around two weeks I think, or maybe three.”

“And other trips?” 

“I don’t know.” I repeated. She nodded, expecting that answer. 

“But you’ll come back, right?”

“I intend to.” I said. Before now I couldn’t have said. I liked the shrine and I liked Reimu but it had never been a home for me. It was as she had said herself, where else would I go? I had nothing against it but no particular attachment to it aside from the work I had put into making it more livable. 

All I could really say for the Hakurei shrine was that I would be sad if it burned to the ground. But it wasn’t my home. In a sense the entirety of Gensokyo was my home, from the forest of the lost to the hot spring village to Eintei. I had so many more places to go as well! It was such a strange and wonderful, and at times disturbing, place. 

“Then that’s enough,” she closed her eyes as relief filled her once more. “Just don’t leave me here alone, alright? That’s all I need.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” If it was for Reimu then I’d keep that promise too. “But we’ve drifted from the main point of this.”

“We have?”

“Your feelings for me.”

“But I already told you.” She said, confused. “You’re the most important person to me.”

“But… romantically?”

“Well yeah, of course I love you. Do you want to get married?” The way she said it sounded like an offer. 

“I don’t know.” I was lost at this point. Because what did I want from Reimu? Frankly I didn’t know, I just wanted us to stay close. 

“Well if you want to, I’d like to. But it’s fine if you don’t. So long as you’re near me it’s enough. Oh, and obviously I don’t mind sharing.”

“Sharing?” I wasn’t dumb. I knew what she was saying, but for the love of god this was a lot to drop on a guy. 

“Mokou talked to me about it. A lot of guys have multiple wives or lovers or concubines. Whatever you call them. So long as you’re happy and you don’t set me aside I won’t mind. They can’t stay in the shrine though, that’d be weird, and we only have enough space for, like, three more people at most. It’d be crowded otherwise.” I was beginning to gain a headache. 

“Right. Well, I’ll admit that I was hoping for that, but I didn’t think you’d be so carefree about it. Most ladies don’t like sharing.”

“Who told you that?” She looked at me, puzzled, with her hands over her lap. 

“Life. Monogamy. Past life, kinda. Most men only have one wife, Reimu.” 

“Well yeah, but they’re losers. Sorry, I meant average. You’re not average, you’ll be a lord or something. Mokou and I already talked about this and she seemed pretty sure you were going to have a harem when you became a man. Was she wrong?”

“Nah.” I couldn’t muster up any more of a response than that. Should I curse sensei or bless her for this? 

“I figured, Mokou is usually right about stuff,” she nodded at her own words with satisfaction as if she’d known all along and I only confirmed it. “Well I think this went great! I feel a little silly now. Most fears are like that, come to think of it, they’re scary until you face them.” She stood up and dusted off her hakama, smiling brightly. 

Was there anything else I wanted to talk about? No. Should talk about? Maybe. 

“Hey, Reimu?” She paused, looking back at me. “What do you want to do with your life? I want to see the world, learn more about ki and Gensokyo and so on, but what about you? You’ve never said anything about it.”

“Well I have to look after the shrine. I’ll just do that.” She said dismissively. 

“Sure, but is that what you want to do?” I pressed. Reimu frowned and turned to face me fully, still standing and about to exit. 

“I guess now, but it doesn't get in the way of that much for me. I still have you and my afternoon tea and my midmorning naps in the summer. That’s not a bad life, I think.” 

I stared at her, frowning tellingly. She fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“I guess… I’d like to be with you when you travel. Or I could use a little more life around the shrine. Not a lot, just enough so that I have more than my thoughts when you’re gone.”

“You can ask for more than that. It’s fine.” I said, watching her. She thought for a second. 

“We know each other too well for this,” she muttered for the both of us. She was right, too. It was easy to tell what one another was thinking after all the time we spent near one another. “If I had to ask, I want to be a mother.”

“A mom? Really?” Of all the things to ask for, that wasn’t what I expected. 

“I know, it’s kind of silly.” She said, embarrassed. Reimu came back to sit on the floor in front of me. Our conversation would go on a little longer. 

“It’s not something I can really explain either. I’ve never been the kind of girl to play with dolls and I don’t know what it would be like to raise kids. It’s not like I’ve talked to many, not a lot of pilgrims bring their kids to the shrine, the path is too dangerous and backwater. But everyone I know, from Mokou to Yukari to Hoshiguma, none of them have any kids, and I think it’s weird. 

“Maybe they do but they don’t talk about them, that would make sense, but when I think of myself in the future I usually think that I have some little boy or girl to follow me around and nap with me, or complain about sweeping the shrine. I don’t really care if they’re from my body or adopted, it just feels right that I should raise someone.”

“Huh.” I had sensed that she was holding something back, but hadn’t expected that it was something like that. Reimu, raising kids? On one hand I hardly knew someone so lazy and carefree as Reimu, but on the other hand I could see it. 

For all of her bad qualities she had plenty of good ones too. She was patient, generally kind and calm, and even if she shirked responsibilities until the last possible minute, she wasn’t going to starve when I wasn’t around. If Reimu could take care of someone as childish as herself, it made a twisted amount of sense that she could take care of an actual child too. 

It was the strangest thing to realize that I had faith that she could step up to the plate and be a good mother to a kid. 

“Well maybe not now, or in the next few years even, that’d be way too soon,” she raised her hands up as she verbally backpedaled, getting flustered by my thoughtful silence. “Maybe when I’m a grown woman I’ll think about it seriously. It’s just a thought, I could-”

“I think that’s a nice dream.”

“It is?” She said disbelievingly. 

“Sure. Why not?” I shrugged. “I think you’d be a good mom.” I earned a rare blush from Reimu that fully bloomed across her cheeks. 

“Maybe. There’s probably a lot more to it than keeping them fed and clothed.” She muttered with embarrassment. 

“I’m pretty sure that nobody really knows what they’re doing with their first kid. I can’t say for sure, but I’ve spoken to a couple of ladies pregnant with their first kid, and all of them got worried about whether they were fit to be a mother. You’ll be fine.” 

“Well… when we’re older, maybe you can help me out. I’d feel a lot better if you were around,” I could almost believe that she wasn’t implying anything until she went in for the kill. “Two parents are better than one, right?” 

I paused at that verbal combo I had been hit with, making sure I heard that right. 

“Y-yeah, they are.” She spent several seconds looking at me expectantly. 

“… Mokou expected this too,” I didn’t understand what she was referring to. “For all that your memories give you some wisdom, you can really act our age sometimes.” In one smooth motion she went from a seated position to wrap her arms around me and press her lips against mine. 

I could have stopped her, and maybe I should have, but found that I didn’t want to. As the kiss went on my ki began to roar under my skin and my mind began to fog. With a force of will I reigned in the emotions to control myself. At some point I had wrapped my arms around Reimu, my hands both against her ass to hold her close. We separated with mutual blushes. 

“Wow,” she grinned, holding a hand to her lips. “That was pretty good! We should do this again.” Behind the words I could see her anxiety, the stiffness in her movements. 

“Let’s go on a date when I get back.” I gave up. Clearly, no matter how hard I tried I was still a teenage boy, and who was I kidding? I was never going to be a monk. 

Even so, Reimu’s tearful smile was enough that I didn’t think I’d regret this. 

“I’ve been wondering, do I get paid?”

“Do you or anyone else pay me taxes?” Yukari drawled as we sat together. I had almost left without anything at all, but then I asked her if she had a badge of office for me or a letter to go with us. 

Of course she complained, but agreed that it would be best if Gensokyo were getting some credit for Sariel’s release, and not just me and Reimu. A badge of office would prove that I wasn’t full of shit, that and Sariel’s own testimony. 

“I sure don’t. Maybe the crow tengu on the mountain pay? Or the kappa? Both of them probably have a little money.”

“The crows are annoying and the kappa waste all of their time playing with technology. Well, magitech, and apparently not even very good magitech. Steampunk, you might call it?” She pondered. 

“I dunno. I should do a tour of the realm someday soon.”

“When you get back that may be wise.”

“Hmm… so payment?” Yukari rolled her eyes visibly and paused writing her letter. 

“I’ll give you some money. Ran will handle how much since I don’t really care.”

“I was thinking more like information.”

“Oh, that’s much more interesting. Such as?”

“The real and full history of Gensokyo.”

“A good choice!” She spoke approvingly, pen still scribbling on the paper. “It’ll be the payment for your first job… unless you mess it up.”

“I like those odds.”

“I didn’t mean it as a gamble. But if it was one, what would be the odds?” 

“Good ones. Letter’s done?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Here.” I looked over the paper and frowned. 

“You scribbled some birds on the paper. Are those pigeons?” I squinted. Yukari’s handwriting was immaculate, some kind of old-timey cursive in dated English. I parsed it out and approved, the words themselves being somewhat informal but not dismissive or rude. 

It was a lot better than her first letter, which began with ‘Hello Daddy’s Boys and Girls’. I was probably meant to throw that out and she was just messing with me, though. 

“Can’t you tell? They’re doves.” I fought the urge to ball up and toss aside the letter. 

Honestly? The angels must have received less professional letters over the years. I was just assuming, but DxD was filled with enough tits and ass that some informal language shouldn’t be scrutinized. 

“Of course. Well thanks, great and mighty queen.” I inspected the sword at my side one more time. It was a ceremonial wakizashi with a blade around 40cm long and an ivory handle. Yukari had done some boundary magic to allow it to create a portal into and out of pocket spaces, ‘So that I don’t have to do it myself for you every time.’ She said. 

I specifically noticed that she said “pocket spaces”, not “Gensokyo”, though Gensokyo itself was one such pocket space. But was Asgard a pocket space? The Underworld? Heaven? 

I was skeptical that Yukari would hand me a master key into such restricted areas, but it was Yukari. As smart as she was, I wouldn’t put it past her to hand me such a blade and not once care that I could abuse it and bring trouble on top of her. 

Or maybe it was a sign of trust, that she trusted me to handle the power responsibly, knowing that if I did abuse it she would catch flak for putting it in my hands. 

It could be either or both. Probably both, with a seasoning of laziness and her laissez faire attitude on top of it. 

“You’re welcome, my loyal peon,” she said smoothly. “Now are you and the bird ready to leave?” 

“Ready.” 

“Then begone.” Space twisted, I saw flashes of red eyes and an all-consuming blackness, and I was standing near the edge of a forest. Next to me was Sariel. There was no flashy light or anything, just a shift that occurred faster than I could perceive. 

“Ready?” I asked the angel. She rubbed her head. 

“The translocation doesn’t disorient you? Or this stillness?”

“Not really.” I was used to thinking while at high velocity thanks to oni-sensei throwing me around and expecting me to stick landings, no matter which way I was moving.  

More than once she’d made a game of throwing me upwards as hard as she thought I could take and making me land safely on the cavern ceiling before falling to the ground. A sudden teleport didn’t cause any more than a brief stutter to my mind. 

As for the forest, it was silent, bare of bugs and birds and anything else that would make its home in woodlands. There was no feeling like a ghost was looking over my shoulder, it was more like the deep ocean, all ambient noise cutting off. For suspicious townspeople it would be a blatant warning of haunted woods or youkai work, and it was, but it was designed to keep people away from the edges, nothing more. 

“Ran was nice enough to tell me what to do here. It’s a barrier, this treeline, not a real forest. If we started walking we’d just walk in place, effectively. Nobody ever leaves Gensokyo, not without permission.” I drew my sword and stabbed it forward like a key. It dug into something cloth-like and I wiggled it deeper. The blade had disappeared into nothingness. 

As I pulled it downward a tear in space opened up, a sloppy imitation of Yukari’s powers. Still, it was an artifact that worked, and I stepped through the barrier first to look around. 

It was immediately more vibrant than Gensokyo’s edge by far. I heard bugs that didn’t exist before, a few birds above, and when I listened very, very hard, there was a rumble in the distance that I recognized as that of tires on a road. It had to be several miles away, but it existed. 

“Flying or walking?” I asked the angel. 

“It makes no difference to me.” She shrugged. I leapt into the air and sped away, wingbeats quickly following me. 

A few minutes of travel later, I spied an old asphalt road, and off in the distance on a mountain road a red car. I laughed lightly at the alien sight, so different from the foot trails and wagons of Gensokyo. It was a sight I had never thought I’d know again three months ago. 

I treasured it all the more for that. 

I was very careful not to be noticed in Japan, and Sariel was of a similar mindset. We stayed out of Kyoto entirely, and only drove through Tokyo. 

Frustratingly enough, I wasn’t capable of legally driving a car, and left Sariel in charge of it. A fifteen year old driving would attract attention, but Sariel looked mature enough to drive, even if the angel had no idea what a car even was until I explained it to her during one of our talks at the shrine. 

Seeing modern Japan was new to me as well as her, though. It wasn’t even 2005 yet, so Japan still had a lot missing from what I remembered of it, but I still recognized a lot, like car brands, McDonalds, and payphones, all things that were once known and were now foreign again. 

Sariel was off much worse than I was. Humanity had been industrializing when she was sealed, but now she wasn’t learning through a phone but driving a metal chariot through stone walls while colorful posters leapt out at her. As I was reacclimating to an urban environment she was having her worldview entirely reworked. 

Things got better when we left for Europe, taking a flight over Asia into France, where I noticed her be relieved at a few familiar sights in Paris, as well as baffled at the Eiffel tower that poked over the city. We spent two weeks there looking around, more so her than me. I was trying to learn more about the magical world, but all I found was a standoffish exorcist who tried to magically wipe my memory after telling me that he prayed that I lived a normal life. 

It didn’t work, but the interrogation was mostly fruitless in important information. The man was a well-intentioned mook who knew even less about the world than I did. All I really got was a rough estimate of stray devil activity across the world and confirmation that the Vatican, and by extension the various Christian denominations, had centuries-long magical traditions and orders. 

More importantly, he was willing to forward us to a meeting with a more highly ranked exorcist after Sariel revealed herself and asked for help, along with some gentle influencing of his ki. It turned out that priests, while often being clued into the existence of the supernatural, weren’t directly involved in the magical aspects of humanity aside from some basic rituals like the creation of holy water. 

For that we were directed to an exorcist, one who was directed to meet us at an upscale cafe along one of the canals. 

That morning we were drawn into a sidequest where Sariel met an old couple in a park and decided that her good deed for the day would be healing them, which of course had to be done without letting them know that they were chatting with an angel and a magic warrior. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d drawn me into something like that. Angels, I had found, were constantly nosing into other people’s business with good intentions, usually leaving strangers in their path better than when they found them. Or maybe it was only the one I had come across. 

First it was tracking down and healing a deer who had gotten caught in a hit and run in Japan, then finding a lost daughter in a fish market, and then we helped encourage a young overweight guy find the bravery to enter a gym. The list went on. Every day it was something. 

Granted, I’d gotten used to them, so we wrapped up the business quickly and hurried to meet our exorcist contact, who we found seated outside at a table. 

Even if it weren’t for her outfit, a fairly conservative ensemble for my lewd world, I could have told anyone she was a nun. The life force in her proudly declared that she had a strong body, and a faint mist of holy energy hung around her. It wasn’t worked directly into her being like Sariel’s, but the residual power was clearly there. 

That said, as far as power went, she was unimpressive. I’d wager that she was trained and powerful, but even I thoroughly outclassed her. Some average humans of Gensokyo held as much life force as her just through manual labor, and her spiritual power was mediocre, probably never trained at all. 

If I had to guess, the girl sent to meet us practiced a form of magic that relied entirely on external energy or items, or that silvery mist on her soul was more powerful than it let on. 

My supernatural senses could hardly be relied on completely. For now I assumed she was a veteran exorcist and deserved respect. The church knew that Sariel was an angel, and even if they were corrupt like I vaguely remembered, disrespecting divinity by sending a newbie would be stupidity. 

I walked up to her while summoning up my charm and put a hand on the seat opposite her, the woman’s eyes snapping to me appraisingly. “Excuse me, are you the sister sent by Father Piero?”

“I am!” Her interest transformed into joy upon hearing the father’s name and she shot up from her seat. “And you must be the angel sent by God! You’re every bit as beautiful as the good book proclaims you to be!” Her smile was so wide that I felt a phantom pain in the corners of my lips. 

“No, sorry, that’s her. She’s the angel.” I pointed to the side awkwardly, where Sariel followed behind me. She gave the young nun a small, happy wave, to which the girl froze. 

“Oh… oh no!” She panicked. “Sorry! Ah, blasphemy! To mistake a man for an angel is surely so! Holy mary mother of Christ please forgive me for my sins-” She clasped her hands together and began rapidly muttering a prayer. 

Before my eyes the holy energy clinging to her began to shine brighter, a shine that only faded as she finished the prayer with an ‘amen’ and looked back up at us. 

“Sorry,” she apologized again, this time bowing her head. “I am Lint Sellzen, a humble exorcist in the service of the Lord. I am charged with verifying your divinity, though if you’re bold enough to make such an audacious claim as to be an angel it must surely be true. May I have your names?”

“Shin. Just Shin. I’m escorting miss angel here back to Heaven.” I went first, sitting down as I did so and gesturing for my escort to do the same. 

“I am Sariel, a humble servant of the Lord like yourself. Please, there’s no need for theatrics, treat with me honestly and it will be decorum enough.” Sariel adopted her saintly persona, the kindly smile and the slight crinkle in her eye to seem like a wise grandmother despite her eternal youth. 

It was total bullshit. The dove might be well practiced in wearing a mask, but so was every other woman I seemed to come across. Her ki was honest, and my best interpretation of her emotion from the twist in its rhythms was mild discomfort. 

With a single glance I could tell that the nun remained awestruck, looking at my friend as if she had come down from heaven just yesterday. That wouldn’t do. 

“Yeah, Sariel is a sweetheart. Don’t worry about piety or whatever the good book says, just being nice is fine enough.” I reached across to grab the angel and pull her in for a rough one armed hug, one she permitted gracefully, only rolling her eyes at the performance. 

Lint gasped. “Shin, stop! Haven’t you heard of Sodom and Gomorrah?! Angels aren’t to be grabbed and accosted!” 

“I’m not hugging an angel, I’m hugging my friend.” I pushed myself away from her playfully, Sariel nodding at my words as I did so. Lint’s resolve faltered. 

“Be that as it may… well… ugh. If Lady Sariel permits it then very well. But you should truly consider showing more reverence to servants of the Lord, Shin. Not all are as forgiving.” She chided me disapprovingly. 

“This one is.” 

“Well if you ever meet an angel in the future, um,” she seemed to realize halfway through how extraordinary a circumstance this was, and how unlikely it was to happen again. “Just… be a good Christian. A respectful, godly Christian. Please?”

“Maybe.” I raised an arm as if to hug Sariel again. Lint’s eyes narrowed challengingly and she quickly pushed forward. 

“Anyway, sorry to ignore you your divinity, but due to the strictures of the church I do need to confirm your holiness, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. Corinthians, 11:14.” 

“I’ll reveal my wings in but a moment. Shin, would you construct a privacy ward for us?” The angel asked me. I nodded and closed my eyes to focus. 

Privacy wards, while nonexistent in Gensokyo, were apparently common practice in the outside world, where the supernatural was concealed from most of humanity. Some of the more standard ones were spellcraft, and others were cast from an item with the spell imbued in them. 

Unfortunately I was pretty shit at magic of any sort. My reserves were small and I didn’t have the mindset to create a spell in the middle of a fight. Even in talisman creation I was lacking. I could write the scripts just fine, but there was a spiritual element to talisman creation that made them more than just a slip of paper and ink. 

So I found a workaround. Ki was a poor medium of illusory effects and area-of-effect moves, but it could be done. It was just hard, although I was never one to turn away from a challenge. 

My spirit crept out of me to blanket the area of the cafe, and with some effort I tagged anyone around who might peer out of their window or otherwise spy on us. Doing so was like a game of twister with a hundred limbs, but I managed. 

Then I influenced them. It wasn’t a perception filter, more of a ‘Someone else’s problem’ field, though even that wasn’t quite right. The closest analogue was a puppeteering technique, or mind control, if you were to be blunt. 

I didn’t grab the minds of people around me like some brute, I nudged eyes away, dampened ears, and made the most alert individuals start yawning. 

Doing such delicate work with the seventy two souls around us was a massive headache. I resolved that next time I’d just badger Reimu into making me some talisman to achieve the same effect without the strain. This kind of technique was way outside of my area of expertise. 

“Quickly, please.” I requested. 

The angel’s wings blossomed out of her for a few brief seconds, during which the nun gasped in reverence and delight and began to pray once more. The air around us felt fresher, our chairs softer, and my burden lighter.

Then the light went away and I released my technique. Nobody seemed to have noticed the display. 

“Now, shall we enjoy the cafe’s delicacies?” Sariel asked kindly. Lint looked at her like she could do no wrong. 

Nuns were really just fangirls, weren’t they? 

With the nun’s help things went by quickly. A few calls to bishops and a trip to the Vatican was arranged. As pious as the girl was, she didn’t waste time to bask in Sariel’s presence or whatever else. 

So long as she refrained from stealing Sariel’s clothes to declare them holy relics or something I liked her. She was weird, but I could imagine our church liaison being far more unpleasant. 

She demanded, with clearly good intentions, to escort us to the Vatican herself. We played tourist for the rest of the day and were taken to the local church the next day, which the exorcist had taken over. A few rooms were set aside for us, set with beds for any guests. 

I spent some time meditating in my room, trying to understand the holy energy that lightly blanketed the holy ground before I went to bed. The few hours I had before I slept weren’t enough time to make much progress though. Holy energy didn’t reject me, but it didn’t come to me as easily as ki to any degree. 

Maybe if I was baptised or a Christian it would be easier. As things were, I wasn’t sure it was even possible for me to use holy abilities. 

That was when I heard a knock on my door. “Come in.” I said, giving up the pursuit for now to greet whoever wanted to speak with me. The local angel walked in, gently holding out a hand to stop Lint from following her inside. The door closed on the nun while she pouted and my friend sighed as she sat on the sole chair in the room. 

I raised an eyebrow as she took off her shirt, leaving only a bra, and realized that it was only to let her wings free themselves without ripping the mundane garment. The lustful impulse in the back of my mind was crushed mercilessly. I wasn’t going to perv on an angel, of all beings. A quick glance at her chest couldn’t be avoided, though. 

“May I stay here for a while? Lint is quite enthusiastic for questions on scripture and the divine. She doesn’t seem to believe me when I say that I don’t have all of the answers.” Sariel asked with a hint of apology. 

“It’s fine. Lint seems nice, but I get that she can be overbearing. It makes me glad I’m not a saint or something.” I continued holding my lotus pose on the bed, keeping my mind clear. 

Even if I hadn’t managed to budge the ambient holy energy a millimeter, I could sense it just fine. Just having Sariel existing near me more than quadrupled the density in the room. Eight winged beings, namely devils and angels, were supposed to be powerful. Feeling that power made me want to fight her. 

The oni had rubbed off on me, getting me used to fighting all the time. Even if I lost against Yuugi every single time, I still somehow came to enjoy fighting. 

“Say, Sariel?” I asked idly. 

“Hm?”

“Would Yukari be able to intrude on a church? I know they repel devils, but I don’t know if youkai count.” 

“Only humanity and servants of God are permitted within holy ground. Have no fear, so long as the ground remains sanctified you are safe.” I frowned at her, continuing to feel the ambient energies as sensitively as I could. 

“Are you sure? She’s the youkai of boundaries after all. I could see her bypassing it somehow.” As lazy as she was, she was also insanely powerful and surprisingly diligent in her duties. 

“I am certain. A creature such as her could certainly shatter it, but bypass it entirely from across the entire world? That is too much,” she smiled kindly. “Why do you ask? Is there something you wish to speak of?”

“Aren’t you perceptive.” I mused. 

“Time grants wisdom to all, so long as they have patience and a willingness to improve.” She put it plainly while watching me curiously. 

“… What do you think of Genskyo?” I asked. 

“What do you think of the outside world? Care to share?” She countered. 

“I’ll go first, then. I like it but I don’t trust it. It’s peaceful, almost to the point that I believe I could live my entire life without seeing a youkai, devil, or whatever goes bump in the night. But I would, wouldn’t I? It’s a lie, and people don’t know what’s out there. When did that happen? At least in Gensokyo, although humans are cattle, they know their place in the world, and the few who have the talent and willingness to fight against it can do so.”

“You dislike the peace?” She led me on. 

“I don’t like the lie. My homeland is honest. The outside world is not.” I had largely abandoned mundane humanity to chill with Reimu, Mokou, and the oni. It wasn’t a decision I made heartlessly, I just didn’t fit in. That didn’t mean I was completely unsympathetic to the plight of average humans. 

“A fair concern. The lie was put in place for a number of reasons, but I can’t claim that it’s to humanity’s benefit.” She agreed. 

“Now you go.” The angel’s wings drooped, revealing her disappointment, but acquiesced. 

“I detest it, as I detest all heresies to my father’s work. But Gensokyo in particular… I am sorry. Had I done my work more thoroughly you might have been born in a kinder place.” I shrugged. 

“Sometimes evil prevails. I don’t think every youkai in Gensokyo is evil, of course, but…”

“You’ve seen beyond your homeland and wonder if those you’ve grown up with are as you believed them to be. With a greater frame of reference comes greater understanding, and understanding those around you does not necessarily mean you respect or admire them more.” She analyzed. I winced, then adjusted the way I was sitting from a lotus position to crossed legs. 

“I guess it’s partly philosophical-”

“It is not,” she interrupted. “Youkai are beings who feed on and are born from fear. They are not human and certainly not kind. Each of them are evil beings.”

“They’re not incapable of kindness.” I disagreed.

“I didn’t say they were incapable of it, only that they are not, at their core, kind people. Anyone can be kind if it advances their own ambitions. True kindness stems from benevolence, for which they have none.” She clarified. 

“… There’s a youkai, Keine, do you know her?” She grinned.

“The half breed. Yes, she is surely one of God’s children. She selflessly aids civilization, defending it from the predators of mankind. It is only a shame that she cannot safeguard the outskirts, the villages left bare of defenses.” She laments even as she praises her. “But that is her human side, Shin. Have you seen kindness in other youkai? Truly selfless benevolence?” 

I thought about it. Yuugi had taught me with the agreement that I’d try to give her a child someday. I’d get visitation rights and everything, and she didn’t seem to want romance, only a booty call. I didn’t even need to succeed either, just put in a fair attempt. 

So that wasn’t benevolence, it was a trade. 

Yukari? Hahahe, no. She was using me. Just because I wasn’t completely certain what she was using me for didn’t mean she wasn’t. 

Everyone at Eintei saw me as an amusement, with the earthling bunnies the kindest, but… I was mixed on that. We’d only known each other for two weeks, and I was a prisoner at the time. Kaguya had been kind, but only because she was trying to hurt Mokou. 

Weirdly enough, the only youkai I had seen kindness from was… 

“Cirno,” I said confidently. “An ice fairy I met with my teacher. We’ve met a few times since then, but I’d call her a friend.”

“Fairies are spirits of the land, not youkai.” That was news to me but made sense in some way. 

“Then… huh. I guess you have a point.” It wasn’t one I was entirely willing to concede, surely there had to be a youkai in Gensokyo who could be truly benevolent, but I hadn’t met them. 

“It is a uniquely human desire to uplift others at the expense of oneself. Certainly an animal might do it for their young, but rarely do they do so for strangers. Youkai are the same, caring first for their own kind and little to none for outsiders. Your teacher, Reimu, and perhaps even Marissa, though you’ve only met her once, have given you true kindness. Trust in humanity, Shin. Youkai do not have your best interests in mind.” She urged me, leaning forward in her chair. 

“Could they ever?” I wondered. 

“I couldn’t say. I know heresy in its broad form, but youkai specifically? I am no expert.” With nothing more to say we let the silence be. Or I did. The angel had one more conversational piece to cover. 

“Shin, if you were free of youkai, of Gensokyo, perhaps of anything supernatural, what would you do? What would you want to do?” 

Not even Reimu had asked me that. 

“I don’t know what I want to do.” Then it hit me. 

In my past life I had lived to work. Now in my new life I had worked myself to the bone… to get a job as Yukari’s errand boy. 

Maybe I hadn’t changed much. 

“I guess if I wanted any one thing, I want to learn how to relax.” I realized.

“Then I think that’s a fine dream.” The angel beamed. 

It wasn’t what I was expecting. Wasn’t she going to say that I should dream of freeing Gensokyo from the tyranny of youkai, or showing humanity the wolves that hunted in their midst while they lived unaware? 

A single look into the angel’s eyes banished those thoughts. There was a simple joy in them. Sariel didn’t expect me to do anything grand or help her in ridding the world of her so-called heretics, she just wanted me to… what, be happy? Love myself?

“… Hey, Sariel? Do you know how to play a flute?”

“Indeed I do. Why do you ask?”

“Could you teach me a few songs?”

AN: This chapter covers some very important stuff, though it feels like a lot of talking to some degree. Generally I like to have things happening as people talk, so let me know if this feels like a 'talking heads' situation at any place.

It also begins Shin's first steps out of Gensokyo! Hooray!

And for anyone wondering, Lint Selzen is a canon DxD character. She's the one who takes up the Longinus Incinerate Anthem after the former wielder kicks the bucket, and then she reincarnates into the Angel's playing card knockoff of the evil pieces.

Sariel is similar, since I saw some people asking about this on QQ. She's canon to touhou, appearing in the original game, and not an OC, although since I had to give her almost all of her personality she may as well be.