Spring
Reimu stirred when she saw movement between the cherry trees behind the shrine. She settled back down the moment she realised that whatever wandered there did so on four legs.
One by one, a trio of deer made its way towards her, pausing at times to forage amidst the recently fallen cherry blossoms. The patterns on their spotted hides seemed to shift as the shadows of the newly budded leaves fell on their flanks.
She didn't make a conscious decision to approach them. One moment, she was sitting on the back porch with her feet dangling in the air. The next, she was circling around the pond and holding her good arm out towards the largest of the deer. "Do you have a message for me?"
The deer raised its head to study her, its dark eyes calm and curious. Reimu waited for it to come closer and stayed still as it nuzzled her fingers with its muzzle. Upon discovering she had no food either in her hand or tucked into her sling, the animal lost interest in her and began nibbling at the grass by her feet instead.
"I didn't think so." Reimu smiled as she moved closer to stroke the deer's neck, enjoying the feel of its bristling hide against her palm.
Something about the animal's roundness gave her pause. She studied its shape more closely before understanding dawned. "You're in fawn."
The deer ignored her words as it continued its meal.
"You must be close," Reimu said, her thoughts suddenly far away. "...Good luck."
She left the deer to its feeding and found herself drawn towards the Mongolian oak. Moments later, she stood between its massive roots and stared up at its crown of fresh leaves.
Strange. Why did she suddenly feel the urge to climb the tree just when it would be nearly impossible to do so? Of course, she could simply fly to reach the branches, but that wasn't the same thing at all.
She leaned against the tree and watched the deer at their grazing. Maybe she should have taken Sanae up on her offer to perform a miracle to mend the bones on her arm. Now it was already pointless — another week and they would finally be healed on their own, just like the burn on her cheek had already faded into a scar. She could tell herself she had refused because she didn't want to owe Sanae that much, but she knew the truth. It had seemed like a waste of a miracle compared to the one Sanae really should have but wasn't even given a chance to attempt.
Reimu closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of spring, doing her best to smother her thoughts in it.
Summer
Reimu fled into the heat-soaked night without a single thought about where she was heading. All she knew was that she had to get away from the suddenly suffocating silence at the shrine as soon as possible.
She was already knee-deep in fiddlehead fern with shadowy trees overhead when she started to think she might have overreacted. But overreaction or not, what was done was done, and besides, perhaps a brisk walk before bed would help her sleep. Pressing the location of the ferns in mind for a later harvest, she kept moving.
The forest felt alien in the dark. Curtains of moonlight sliced the night through cracks in the canopy, allowing her to just barely see the footpaths left behind by the beasts and youkai living in the woods. The sounds seemed louder and the scents sharper, as though the night had blended into them and heightened everything from the echoes of her footfalls to the astringent stench of decay.
For the most part, she allowed her instincts to guide her steps, moving forward at every fork in the footpath without hesitation. The further she went, the more aware she was that she was both alone and not alone. The forest teemed with life, from insects and beasts to fairies and youkai: she couldn't see any of them, but she could feel and sometimes hear their presence. Whenever there was true silence, it seemed like someone holding their breath.
The rustling of dry twigs to her right was subtle, not much different from the myriad small sounds she had heard since entering the woods. She was just about to stop and see what it was when the stillness surrounding her was punctured by someone leaping into it from the shadows.
"Ha!" A youkai in a less than clean pinafore grinned like a maniac, displaying her sharp teeth to good advantage. "What fool human thought it was a good idea to waltz through the woods in the middle of the—" Her eyes bugged out with sudden recognition. "...Oh crap."
Reimu said nothing as the youkai began to back away.
"Haha, just kidding." The youkai was still smiling, but her predatory leer had transformed into something that was meant to be ingratiating at record speed. "Just a little practical joke we like playing around here. Have a good night!"
With that, the youkai slunk back into the shadows with her tail both literally and figuratively tucked between her legs. Reimu was left alone on the path to wonder just what kind of a reputation she had among two-bit youkai.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she was increasingly aware of just how many of the shadows around her were actually living, breathing creatures. Fairies flitted about, their laughter muffled by the foliage but still disturbing owls and ghosts alike. Youkai lurked between the trees alone and in small groups, talking with their heads close together and sometimes appearing to be immersed in board games. At one point, she saw two silhouettes half obscured by tree branches leaning in to embrace one another. She realised she was staring and hurried past them, confident that whatever they were doing wasn't the start of an incident.
She refused to acknowledge the sudden pinch in her chest.
Without warning, the forest came to an end. All at once, the sky was too distant, the vastness of the night encroaching upon her too complete. She focused on the stars in an effort to ground herself.
Soon she found herself lying on the grass, trying to recognise at least one constellation in the sea of lights with little success. She still wasn't tired, but the notion of closing her eyes for a spell and pretending someone else who actually knew her astronomy was lying next to her to explain everything seemed very appealing.
She woke up with sunlight glaring into her eyes and so sodden with dew that she felt soaked from inside and out.
Something tickled her cheek. She carefully brought her hand to her face and discovered a ladybird trailing up towards her hairline.
Without getting up, she gently guided the ladybird onto her finger and blew at it until it unveiled its wings and flew towards the blindingly blue horizon.
Autumn
The sparrow had been sitting on Reimu's arm for close to ten minutes now, and she still couldn't figure out why it was there. Initially, it had observed the other little birds landing on her fingers and leaving again with sunflower seeds in their beaks, but now it seemed content to simply stay where it was as though she was a tree. Maybe it simply appreciated the warmth radiating from her body. It was unusually cold for early autumn, after all.
Reimu studied the trees surrounding her as birds continued going to and fro, vying for spaces on nearby branches. The leaves were still predominantly green with the occasional splash of red and yellow. So why did she keep shivering?
As she thought that, the sparrow chirped and flew away to mingle with its more colourful cousins.
She heard the clatter of claws on pine bark just before a soft weight landed on her head. The remaining birds took off as the squirrel climbed down to Reimu's shoulder, its fluffy little body so close to her head its tail tickled her cheek.
"These aren't for you," she protested, but the squirrel paid her no heed. Short of shaking it off, there was little she could do but watch it crawl up the length of her arm and inhale half the sunflower seeds on her palm.
As the squirrel made its way back to the tree with its ill-gotten gains, a set of needle-sharp claws attached itself to Reimu's left calf.
"Ow!" She looked down to see another squirrel scrambling to grab the hem of her skirt and eventually succeeding. Groaning, she lowered her hand and braced herself as the squirrel clung onto her fingers to reach for the seeds.
As two squirrels became four and four became six, they grew so intent on chasing each other away from the food that they forgot to continue mugging her. Leaving them to it, she made a swift exit from the clearing, walking all the way out of the forest and over to a cluster of walnut trees on a nearby meadow. She stowed handfuls of walnuts in her sleeves, then collected a bunch more in the hem of her skirt. Walking carefully in an effort not to spill anything, she retraced her steps back to the clearing.
Two of the squirrels remained close to where she had last seen them. One sat on a branch nibbling at a pine cone it held between its paws while the other scoured the ground, presumably attempting to sniff out some other squirrel's treasure trove. It was this latter squirrel which first spotted Reimu and bounded over to meet her. Within moments it was on top of the pile of walnuts cradled in her skirt.
"There you go, you little scoundrel," she said as the squirrel shoved a walnut in its mouth and climbed up to her shoulder. "I'd tell you to appreciate the favour, but I know you won't."
She couldn't help but smile as she listened to the squirrel's small teeth work their way through the walnut's shell right by her ear. Nor could she keep her smile from widening as the second squirrel descended head-first from the tree and rushed over.
"You're so greedy," she said fondly as the second squirrel followed the first one's lead and nestled in the crook of her arm to feast. "Once you're full you're just going to hoard the rest, aren't you? You're just like—"
She paused and simply observed the squirrels for a while, doing her best not to think of anything. At length, she noticed the first patches of winter grey on the haunches of the squirrel on her arm.
It can't be time yet. But even as she thought that, the wind carried the bitter metallic scent of premature winter to her nose.
Her heart sank even as more squirrels scurried over, oblivious to her sorrows.
Winter
The storm outside howled. Reimu paused in the middle of scrubbing herself to listen to it, cursing that she hadn't fetched in more water the day before.
She sat still in spite of the shivers creeping up her spine and studied the streaks of rapidly cooling water on her legs. She sighed and dumped the remaining water on herself. As nice as it would be, she couldn't be bothered with the effort of warming up a proper bath. Nor could she be bothered to go outdoors and clear out the snow covering the courtyard, not when it would all be back in less than an hour.
In fact... she halted in the middle of drying herself. Was there any reason why she shouldn't crawl back into bed and spend the entire day dozing off?
The idea seemed better and better as she removed the towel from around her head and shrugged on her yukata. She savoured the pleasant afterglow that came from being clean and relatively warm, but already she could sense it beginning to fade.
She moved more briskly than she had in weeks as she rushed to raid the kitchen. Her larder looked awfully bare for this early in winter, but she found some stale snacks behind a bag of rice. She was doing marginally better alcohol-wise, and gratefully grabbed a bottle. After a moment's pause, she grabbed another before scurrying off.
She closed the bedroom door behind her and stashed the food and drink in a corner, then hastily set her futon back on the floor. The treacherous winter cold had already crept up her legs when she dove between soft covers. She curled up into a ball as she waited for her body to warm up the air around her.
Soon enough she could comfortably straighten out her spine again. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, annoyed by how bright the room was. She thought back on all the times she had cursed the gloom which had overtaken the shrine, but couldn't bring herself to appreciate the irony.
And just like that, suddenly all too aware of the tension in her shoulders, she realised she had nothing to think about but the one thing she couldn't acknowledge: the reason for her seemingly endless wait.
Without thinking about it, she touched the small, already paling sickle-shaped scar on her cheek. The feeling of her own fingers was suddenly so jarring she jumped back up.
Slowly, she lay back down. She considered abandoning her plan and going outside after all, but the storm rattling the very foundations of the building checked that thought. There had to be something else she could do to pass the time. She wished she could hibernate and wake up to spring flowers and good news.
That brought her thoughts to Yukari, and that in turn brought her all too close to the thing that she couldn't think about. In desperation, she turned onto her stomach and began sluggishly looking for anything within an arm's length.
Her fingers struck against the corner of a small book. At length, she recognised it as a volume of manga Sanae had practically pushed onto her literal years ago. At the time she had taken one glance at the cover and completely forgotten about it.
She propped herself upright with her elbows and opened the book. She was immediately assaulted with terms like 'warp propulsion' and 'supercolony.' Things got a little better as the story began in earnest, but she soon found her eyes gliding over the illustrations without paying any attention to the speech bubbles.
It wasn't long before she sighed and lay her head down, allowing the book to tumble from her hands. She left it where it fell. Why bother moving it when it wasn't bothering her? Why bother moving at all when it didn't even properly kill time?
She awoke an indeterminable time later, her mind muzzy and her mouth like sandpaper. It was dark enough that she suspected it was around the time she usually went to bed. The only reason it mattered was because the outdoor temperature tended to get even more blisteringly cold after twilight.
Something was scurrying within the walls. She couldn't tell which she hoped it rather was, mice or Taoists.
She longer for a glass of water. Instead of fetching one, she turned to her side, earning a twinge of pain from a crick in her neck. The longer she stayed still, the more she felt like a cicada husk.
How much longer can I wait before I actually turn into one?
Day after day, she continued to survive with relative ease. Day after day, she lay her head down and dreamt of things she refused to consciously consider, terrors both real and possible. Day after day, she was increasingly aware her life had been reduced to continuing to put bland food in her mouth, quietly bearing the weight of the barrier on her shoulders, and waiting and waiting and waiting until she wasn't sure she could ever be wholly human again.
She squeezed the fabric of the futon between her fingers. When had she ceased being self-sufficient? She had never intentionally meant for this to happen. What if all the waiting ended up being for nothing and the remainder of her life was nothing but this, stumbling through the seasons like a ghost who hadn't even really died?
Tomorrow, she decided, relaxing her grip. Tomorrow she would allow herself to think about it. Tomorrow she would acknowledge what she was waiting for and try to accept that for all of Yukari's reassurances, it might never happen. Tomorrow she would examine how precarious the thread of hope holding her together really was and what her future might look like.
But for now, she would rest.
???
Reimu had no memory of either falling back asleep or of turning onto her back. She was, however, very aware of jerking awake with someone's face hovering mere inches above hers.
By the time she had scrambled upright, Yukari — because it was Yukari, or at least the upper half of her since the rest of her remained ensconced within a gap — had already straightened her back. "It's time."
Now more than fully alert, Reimu tried to make out Yukari's expression through the grainy night-time air. "Now?"
"Now."
Reimu had no words. She had been waiting for this single word for almost a year now. Now that she heard it felt unreal, more dream-like than any of her dreams.
Still, when Yukari held out her hand, she took it without hesitation and allowed herself to be pulled through the gap.
The sound of Reimu's footsteps echoed from the pale, reflective walls as she and Yukari walked down a pillared corridor in what seemed to Reimu like a mansion in a dream world.
"I thought you had gone to sleep for the winter," Reimu said while continuing to look ahead. She hadn't just thought that: she had spent hours silently cursing Yukari for leaving her hanging until spring without so much as a note.
Yukari took her time responding. Although her feet clearly touched the floor, they made no sound. "You thought correctly. It wasn't easy to wake up for this."
Reimu considered thanking her for it, but it seemed disingenuous. She simply kept walking instead.
Soon the corridor opened up to a large room with blindingly white walls that seemed at once static and comprised of swirling mist. At its centre was a simple raised platform. From a distance, Reimu thought it was trapped within a globe of glass, but the illusion vanished like a soap bubble the moment she stepped closer.
Lying on the platform in neat, clean clothes and with her hair carefully arranged around her was Marisa, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, her mouth curved in the slightest of smiles. She looked nothing like Reimu's most recent memories of her and exactly as she appeared in her dreams.
Reimu frowned as she stared down at her. "You could at least have given her a pillow."
Wordlessly, Yukari opened another gap into reality and plunged her hand into it. Reimu took the pillow she offered and propped Marisa's head up with it.
Marisa had no reaction to being jostled. Her chest kept rising and falling in a barely perceptible manner even as Reimu poked her face.
Reimu retracted her hand. "When is she going to wake up?"
"Two weeks ago."
Reimu turned to glare at Yukari.
"I can and have manipulated the border between sleep and wakefulness." Yukari's smile seemed fainter than usual, but her whimsical tone was intact. "She's essentially awake. It just takes her body some time to realise it after the reattachment."
"How much?"
"It will happen soon enough. That's why I brought you here." Yukari suppressed a yawn. "I left you a one-way exit back to Gensokyo. Just turn to the left by that pillar over there when you wish to leave. You can't miss it."
She made a show of walking away, waving without looking back. After a few steps, she spirited herself away.
Reimu barely noticed it happening. For the time being, all that existed in her world was right in front of her.
She studied Marisa more closely. It was almost uncanny how healthy she looked. She rubbed the scar on her own cheek and wondered whether this really was Marisa's original body, carefully mended, or a new body Yukari had stitched together through some eldritch means. She supposed she was better off not knowing.
It wasn't as cold in this strange liminal mansion as it had been at the shrine, but after a while, she found herself shivering. She shoved her arms in the sleeves of her yukata and wished she had thought to get dressed first.
"Now would be a great time for you to open your eyes," she said.
Marisa said nothing.
Reimu held her fingers above Marisa's lips to feel the gentle airstream as Marisa slowly inhaled and exhaled, then looked around. A closer examination of the room revealed a pale cube near the head of the platform, seemingly of the same material as the walls and just the right size to serve as a chair. Reimu hauled it over to where she had stood and sat down to wait. And wait. And wait.
"You shouldn't have jumped in the way."
She paused, wondering just how the words she had till then even refused to think had suddenly slipped out of her mouth. Had they simply been waiting for her to see Marisa to escape?
"I would have been fine. I heard your warning. I was just about to fly away from its path when you rushed over. How are you supposed to become a magician if you risk throwing your life away like this?"
Marisa continued to sleep. Reimu leaned her elbows against the platform and gazed at her thin eyelashes and the individual golden strands of her forelocks. She rearranged Marisa's hair to look ever so slightly windswept, straightened the slight creases on her clothes, adjusted the pillow to better support her neck, and waited once again.
"The roof of the shrine needs repairs," she finally said, deciding that she might as well keep talking. "I meant to patch it up before winter, but I couldn't be bothered in time. The draft is worse than ever.
"I've been taking turns keeping your house clean with Alice. It's not tidy, of course, but we've kept the dust bunnies at bay. You'll have to see for yourself if anything's gone missing.
"I've kept a cask of your favourite sake waiting for you. You'd better appreciate that.
"...I miss you."
The last statement was uttered softly, for Reimu's own ears only. Even then it felt too loud.
Even before the words stopped echoing in the room, she realised what she had really meant to say. Yes, she missed Marisa. But that was only a fraction of the truth. Living through the four seasons without her hadn't felt like living at all: it had felt like she was haunting Gensokyo instead of guarding it. And that meant...
She sat unmoving for a long time as the tidal wave of locked away thoughts overwhelmed her. When she finally moved again, it was with a jerk.
There was no point in saying the words when Marisa couldn't hear them, but if she didn't do something she would explode. She placed her hand on Marisa's. "Marisa, I..."
Marisa's knuckle twitched beneath her palm
Reimu froze. She must have imagined the movement. Even with all of Yukari's reassurances, she realised she had never truly believed Marisa would really...
A soft groan escaped Marisa's lips, followed by her eyelashes beginning to flutter. And just like that, in a few simple moments, she had opened her eyes.
Reimu felt like a statue as she followed Marisa's groggy eyes taking in their surroundings.
The furrows on Marisa's brow visibly relaxed as she caught sight of Reimu. She smiled. "Hi there."
She made a halting attempt at pushing herself upright, then paused to blink. "How long was I out for?"
"Too long." Reimu didn't think she could have kept the smile from her face even if her life had depended on it. "But you're back in time for the new year."
Marisa chuckled as Reimu helped her upright and draped her arm around her shoulders. It kept Reimu from feeling the chill as they began making their way towards the exit, Marisa's steps growing more confident with each passing moment.
In fact, it was Reimu who first came to a halt. "Marisa?"
"Yeah?" When Reimu said nothing, Marisa began looking around again. "What's this place anyway?"
"I'm not sure." It was ridiculous how after everything, it was still a struggle to get the words out. "There's something I need to tell you right now."
"...Did my house burn down while I was gone?"
"No." And, since if she was going to do this, Reimu decided she might as well do it properly and looked Marisa in the eye. "I love you."
Marisa blinked. She blinked again. And a third time.
"I mean, I love ya too. Obviously." She shook her head as she began to grin. "You had me scared there. I thought you were preparin' me for terrible news."
Before Reimu had the time to feel either indignant or embarrassed, Marisa leaned closer. The kiss she pressed on Reimu's cheek was slightly wavery, but the warmth and affection behind it came through crystal clear. If there had been any doubt about whether she was telling the truth earlier, the look she gave Reimu cleared all doubts.
It was Reimu's turn to blink. "So..."
Marisa smiled. "So."
At length, Reimu shook her head. "...We should get out of here first."
"Sounds like a plan."
Even with that decided, they lingered for a moment longer and simply looked at each other, as if for the first time.
When Marisa began to laugh, Reimu felt a constriction she hadn't even been aware of loosening from her chest. Even so, she was a little surprised when she found herself laughing, too.
When they continued forward, it was hand in hand and with the unspoken promise between them that the following year would be one to remember.