"You're really the type of person who'd do something this pointless?" Patchouli stared at the noisy children, directing the question at Yuuka Kazami.
Yuuka settled against a tree, watching the kids' commotion with the same gaze. "Let's just say I'm occasionally curious about things. What kind of fables do humans use to educate their children? That's the sort of question that interests me."
"And you think a fable can be recreated like this?"
"Don't get in my way, I still have things to do..." Reisen's protest trailed off as she met the children's eyes. "Fine, I get it, stop looking at me like that. I'll run."
Why had they grabbed her specifically? Because, nominally, she was the leader of all the rabbits in the Bamboo Forest. How nominal that title actually was, well—that wasn't the kind of thing children would think to question.
"Heave-ho." Rumia set Genjii down and dragged her foot through the dirt, carving a line. That was the starting line.
"Whoever reaches that tree first wins." Yimi pointed to a tree up ahead, patting Genjii's shell with considerable confidence in her oversized contestant.
Most of that confidence was really just prejudice against rabbits. Back home, one of her mama's friends had once held a rabbit in front of her, hoping they'd be friends. The rabbit hadn't responded to her secret "meow-miao-mew-myow" passcode—hadn't even deigned to make a single sound back.
So in Yimi's worldview, rabbits equaled arrogant creatures.
"This is the distance? That's it?" Reisen crouched into a starting stance.
Wriggle stood at the front with her hand raised. "Ready, go!"
Reisen blurred forward on those long legs and crossed the finish in an instant. Genjii yawned and retracted into his shell without moving an inch.
"Rabbit wins." Patchouli announced flatly.
"Impossible!"
"You just said the tortoise wins in the end!"
The kitten and the bug pointed at Patchouli and voiced their protest in unison.
Mystia waved them down. "How could a tortoise ever beat a rabbit?"
Patchouli held open the textbook page for them to see. "That's why it's a fable—it's a metaphor for certain people and situations. It doesn't mean a tortoise can literally outrun a rabbit... although this particular turtle, maybe."
Genjii's greatest contribution to Reimu in the old days had been serving as her flying mount before she'd mastered flight on her own.
"I don't care. We're going again." Wriggle was clearly unsatisfied with the result.
"It'll be the same no matter how many times you run it." Patchouli sentenced them without mercy.
But then Wriggle trotted over to Reisen, beckoned her down, and whispered into one of her long ears: "Lose the next race. I'll give you carrots."
"Why carrots, of all things..."
"Ugh, so picky." Wriggle scampered to a large rock nearby and flipped it over, revealing the worms wriggling in the damp soil underneath. "These are soldiers I've carefully cultivated. Even without my direct control, they can help you serve food and wash dishes. Pick one and take it home."
"Eek!" Reisen let out a horrified shriek and stumbled backward.
"No, no—you're supposed to pay with money." The kitten still remembered the concept of currency.
"Money?" Wriggle scurried over to Yuuka and tugged on her hand. "Big Sis Yuuka, can I have some money?"
"Of course." Yuuka handed over a stack of bills. She sold flowers when she was in a good mood.
Wriggle spun around and shoved the money into Reisen's hands. "This is for you. Now lose the next race."
"Um..."
Wriggle dragged Reisen back to the starting line.
"Ready, go!"
"Oh my, I'm suddenly so sleepy." Reisen pressed a hand to her forehead and slowly crumpled to the ground on her side.
Yimi ran to Genjii and patted his shell. "Hurry up, go!"
"..."
Genjii leisurely poked his head out, gave the pestering little nuisance a sidelong glance, and then leisurely floated over to the tree at the finish line.
"Ha! The tortoise won—you lost! Pay up." Wriggle thrust her hand at Mystia.
"How is any of this a real win?! The rabbit won the first round, didn't she? And you never said anything about betting money!"
Wriggle pulled her hand back. "Damn. Making all that money every day and still so stingy."
"The tortoise won." The kitten was very satisfied with this outcome.
"The clever kitten and the bug paid the rabbit money so she'd lie down and sleep on the day of the race. Using their wits to help the tortoise win—that's the lesson of The Tortoise and the Hare."
Back at the shrine, Yimi stood with both hands clasped behind her back, earnestly lecturing Reimu on the knowledge she'd acquired today.
"Why is that completely different from the version I've read? Where'd you learn this—don't tell me the terakoya." Reimu turned to look at Genjii, who had carried Yimi home on his back.
"Mm..." Yimi tilted her head, thinking hard about how to answer.
The person with the most authority at a competition was the referee.
"I learned it from Mukyu."
"Right. Don't play with her anymore."
What is wrong with that Mukyu? Is she taking revenge over the garbage in the papers by messing with a kid? Is the Green Bug's claim about her having a crush on Marisa actually true?
Reimu slipped on her shoes. "I've got to head out for a bit. Stay here and watch the house."
"Reimu." The kitten called after her.
"What is it? If you want me to bring something back, don't make it expensive." Reimu rummaged through her pockets—a handful of loose coins.
"How much more do I have to learn before I can be a shrine maiden?" Yimi wanted a goal to aim for.
"I don't know. I also don't know where you got the idea that studying leads to becoming a shrine maiden. This position probably doesn't have much to offer someone like you anyway, does it? You're already one blessed by a deity." Reimu tapped her shoe against the floor. A pebble had gotten inside.
She looked down. The sole had split open. Cheap garbage—only lasted half a year.
"I can't become one?" Yimi's ears drooped.
The kitten had been trying so hard, holding onto that hope.
"It's not something I can give you a clear answer on. There's just never been a precedent for a non-human becoming the Hakurei Shrine Maiden, and for that woman Yukari, replacing me with a non-human would only make things harder for her to control, wouldn't it?" Reimu fiddled with Yimi's drooping ears, trying to manually push them upright. "I'm heading out for work right now. Want to come along and see what it's like?"
"Yes." Yimi took her hand.
Reimu looked down at the tiny hand in hers. She didn't shake it off—just walked forward, kitten in tow.
Gensokyo existed to maintain the balance between humans and non-humans. In this modern age of advanced science, humanity had all but lost its reverence for gods and youkai—had even begun questioning whether they existed at all.
For certain gods and youkai who depended on faith or fear to survive, that was nothing short of an extinction event. That was why Yukari Yakumo had gathered a group of people to create this idyllic land, sealed away from the mundane world.
And the humans of the Human Village served as the anchor for that balance. Even the youkai with the deepest grudges against humanity wouldn't directly assault the village—most just caused mischief now and then, or picked on the occasional human who wandered outside.
That was normal, expected. But when things went too far, the enforcer had to step in.
Like right now. The stretch of forest where the Bamboo Forest of the Lost met the Youkai Trail had burst into inexplicable flame. Normally she wouldn't have bothered, but a rabbit had come tattling that Keine appeared to be killing someone.
Best go confirm whether this was an actual incident. That teacher did, after all, have a track record of erasing the Human Village from history.
Reimu arrived at the scene and sucked in a sharp breath, clamping her hand over Yimi's eyes.
Mokou lay on the ground, trembling, and managed to grab Yimi's ankle. "If you have any conscience left at all... bring me a fruit basket next time you visit."