"Here." Unsure of what else to say, Sanae held out the plastic bag. "I wasn't sure about your size, but..."
Reimu's reaction was more animated than any Sanae had seen from her since the disaster. This time, she actually raised her head for a moment before letting her chin sink back down. She still looked like she wished to curl up into a ball on the porch but couldn't quite muster the energy to move.
Sanae chewed her lip, wondering if she should just leave the bag next to Reimu, only to be freed from the decision when Reimu's hand shot forward and snatched it. One of the thin handles tore with an audible rip, but Reimu seemed deaf to it: the next moment, she was already rummaging through its contents.
"I hope you like them. Later we can—" Sanae's eyes shot wide open as Reimu put the bag aside and began taking her top off. "You're going to change here?!"
"Why not?" Reimu's voice was so flat the question barely counted as one. "There's no-one around to see."
"I guess, but..." Sanae averted her eyes. Reimu was right, of course, and it shouldn't have mattered in the first place, but this really wasn't the time for blushing.
To distract herself, she walked to one of the torches lining the courtyard and looked into the distance. Most of the trees the shrine was nested in had survived the transition, had in fact grown more numerous, shielding the buildings on the hill from view. They also prevented Sanae from seeing all that lay around it, but then, she had already stood with Reimu by the torii watching the distinctly modern town and its rhizome of roads sprawling through the land beneath the steps.
"The handle broke."
Reimu had stood up and was frowning at the bag on the porch, now bulging with her old garb. The fit of the new clothes was adequate, although the sleeves were obviously too long. Sanae had chosen red and white — red skirt, white shirt, red and white varsity jacket — in hopes the familiar colours would be a comfort. She now realised they might have been a stab, too.
"It's fine. We can recycle it." Sanae picked up the bag and took the opportunity to survey Reimu from a modern day human's perspective. The hair decorations still marked her for an outsider, but she looked more outwordly than Sanae had ever seen her before. She would likely pass for a former Lolita fashion enthusiast clinging to her old ribbons, and as long as Sanae coupled her new hoodie and pleated skirt with her own hair charms, they would at least share the stares. They would be fine.
Things didn't seem fine as Reimu simply stood there, arms slack, staring at the trees past the courtyard but clearly seeing nothing but fog.
Sanae settled the bag in the crook of her arm and choked on half-formed condolences. She wasn't any more prepared to utter words acknowledging the destruction of the Great Hakurei Barrier than Reimu was to hear them. Instead, to hide her rising panic, she focused on the practical side of things. "The train goes twice an hour until eleven o'clock, so we don't have to worry about running late for it. How about we eat something first? I saw a nice little restaurant on the way— or maybe you'd just like something sweet? We still have some—"
She stilled. Reimu had turned to gaze at her, her eyes as vacant and hollow as they had been while staring at the foliage.
"Um. Or if you'd like to rest here a bit longer, we can do that too."
Reimu continued on with her impression of a member of the walking dead.
"I could bring you something to eat here, too. Is there anything you'd like?" Sanae's legs already ached from walking — how quickly she had begun to long to be able to fly again — but honest physical pain might have been better than watching this slow winding down that felt like death. "Reimu?"
When this elicited no reaction, Sanae hazarded an approach, then placed her hand on Reimu's arm. This gesture was accepted with the same stoicism as a statue accepts falling rain.
Sanae thought she understood. The evaporation of Gensokyo had been a blow, a physical sensation like someone had punched out her internal organs and replaced them with water. But she could cope. She knew the Outside World, had grown up in it, and she still felt Lady Kanako and Lady Suwako lending her their strength. Reimu had only ever known Gensokyo. Even now, she was probably...
Reimu's head jerked. The movement heralded a sudden release of tension, so complete she began at once to collapse. Sanae caught her just in time and hauled her back upright.
She didn't expect Reimu to clutch onto her and practically drape herself over Sanae until they were hugging each other. Sanae held on, stunned, but not so stunned she didn't catch Reimu mumbling against her shoulder.
"I failed."
"No." Sanae pulled Reimu closer, once again scrambling for words. Reimu felt too small and too brittle, as though her loss had transformed her into a bird. "It wasn't a fair fight to begin with, and you came so much closer than the rest of us."
"And I failed."
The words were uttered with leaden certainty. Sanae saw now that attempting to counter them would only bolster them. She let silence shroud them instead and focused on trying to transmit her body's warmth to Reimu, trying not to think of the fatal wound she was certain she had seen Reimu receive while she herself had lain on the Hakurei Shrine courtyard, too exhausted and stunned to even think of getting up, and which appeared to have simply vanished alongside the barrier.
For a brief blessed moment, things seemed fine. It lasted only until Sanae tilted her head and saw that Reimu's eyes were filled with tears.
And just like that, for the second time that day, something in the universe tilted quietly off-centre.
While Sanae had spent years viewing Reimu as a friend and rival alike, she could now admit to herself that there had always been a dash of hero worship blended into her sentiments. For all of her foibles, the other shrine maiden had been so attuned to her craft, so determined when the situation called for it, and sometimes almost as supernatural as the youkai roaming the land. She had been someone who obviously never really needed help from Sanae, and so Sanae, living goddess or not, had been just overawed enough to keep the exact nature of the blossom in her heart to herself.
Holding Reimu in that moment, watching her weep, hearing her stubbornly steady heartbeat so close to her chest, Sanae finally truly felt like she was human.
"It's going to be okay." It wasn't a mere platitude; one way or another, Sanae would make it happen. "They won't take this lying down. Yukari and the others, I mean. They're going to fix it somehow. And even if they don't, we'll figure something out. They need shrine maidens in this world, too. And you don't have worry about getting identification papers or anything. Lady Kanako and Lady Suwako will be waiting at the shrine, and I'll just miracle you into a family register if you want, and we can go stay at my old home and—"
She was interrupted by a snippet of strangled laughter. It was mirthless and half choked, but there was no mistaking it even before Reimu straightened up and proved that her tears were now accompanied by a thin smile.
"You never give up, do you?"
"You don't, either." Sanae didn't quite feel like smiling, but she did so anyway and felt it become genuine as Reimu tried to match its wideness. "I can't lose to my rival."
Reimu absorbed this with due consideration. Finally, she extracted herself from the embrace, leaving behind a lingering chill and a faint floral scent from the detergent on her new clothes. "Maybe I should eat."
Energised by this twinge of hope, Sanae clapped her hands together. "Great! Wait here and I'll get you something good!"
She hadn't made it even a single step before Reimu grabbed the sleeve of her hoodie. As she halted, Reimu took the opportunity to wipe her eyes before nodding. "I'll come as well."
"Are you sure?"
"I can't lose to my rival."
Was it normal to feel a rush of warmth at mirrored words? "In that case, we'll go together."
Hand on arm turned into hand in hand as they marched across the courtyard.
Once they reached the torii, Reimu faltered. Sanae turned, prepared to say that it was fine, that their departure could still wait, that even if they missed the final train they'd still manage, when Reimu raised her chin and stepped underneath it.
They halted there on the top step, just past the torii. Reimu stared blankly at the vista ahead, showing neither pleasure nor disappointment at the wealth of buildings and cultivated land. She took a deep breath. "There."
Sanae squeezed her hand. "I knew you could do it."
"Of course I could." How Sanae had missed hearing that particular note of smugness. However, the thought was quickly forgotten as Reimu faced Sanae, no longer despondent but instead intense. "The real challenge comes now."
That was the only warning Sanae received before Reimu leaned forward and kissed her. It was as imprecise as it was abrupt, only brushing the corner of Sanae's mouth. All the same, it lit her blood on fire.
Just as quickly as she had leaned in, Reimu pulled back and began walking down the steps. She would've dragged Sanae along with her if Sanae hadn't shaken off her daze and followed at her own volition, just barely holding onto the bag of Gensokyoan clothes.
The back of Reimu's head yielded no answers. Later, there might be time to ask if the kiss had been a whim, a momentary madness brought on by overwhelming loss. Or perhaps, if it had meant what Sanae hoped it meant.
Until then, Sanae would follow and try not to be too awed by the full bloom of her heart.