Chapter Text
When the sun shines down on her hair and makes it glow in a translucent azure, Reimu can almost convince herself that Mizuchi is a regular girl. But then she catches the sharp teeth and the ghostly energies of the vengeful spirit’s legs, and the illusion vanishes.
But she’s not just malice and vengeance, the way so many other vengeful spirits are. Reimu can tell from the way her gaze softens slightly as she surveys the village. There’s something there - something wistful and tender. Compassion and longing, perhaps. Something that a century of her grudge couldn’t snuff out.
"What is it?" Reimu asks, placing her cup back on the table.
"Huh?" Mizuchi doesn't look back at her. Her gaze is fixed on something far away.
"I didn't bring you out here so you could stare off into the distance."
A shout cuts through the air. A pair of children, carefree and rambunctious, bound past Reimu's table, barely avoiding knocking their drinks over. Young and innocent. Reimu never had the luxury. Across the table, Mizuchi turns to look at the children too. How old had she been, Reimu wonders, when she'd first seen how cold and uncaring the world could be?
The village is busy today. Loud and full of life and energy. Few people pay Mizuchi any mind, likely because she's with Reimu. It’s a far cry from how they would’ve reacted before. When she’d been nothing more than the dangerous vengeful spirit instead of Reimu’s ward.
"You're still staring," Reimu says, watching as Mizuchi's eyes slide back to where they'd been previously.
"Yeah...I'm just, uh..." Mizuchi trails off. Reimu sits up straighter. "What's that noise?" The vengeful spirit finally asks.
"Noise?"
"Yeah. That...It repeats."
Reimu frowns and strains her ears. It's difficult to make out over the canal and the conversations of some strange old men who fish there.
But then, she catches it. "Oh, that's...There's a little café that way. The waitress tries to draw people in by shouting."
"Café..." Mizuchi runs a gloved hand through her hair. "Not the place with the zashiki-warashi?" Reimu frowns, then recalls Miyoi Okunoda. She shakes her head. Mizuchi remains in thought. "I saw a redheaded waitress when I was last here. I didn’t get a good look, but…She didn’t have a neck." The rokurokubi, Reimu remembers. "Another one of the youkai swarming the village, huh?" Mizuchi snorts derisively. "How can you stand it? This is supposed to be a safe haven."
Reimu looks around. The warmth of the summer is palpable and the streets are busy. She and Mizuchi sit on a busy tea house’s patio, right next to the canal. When the villager’s chatter fades, the murmuring water takes its place. On the branches of the overhanging trees, a sparrow sings. As Reimu watches, a second sparrow lands, hopping a little closer.
"It is a safe haven," Reimu finally replies. "The presence of youkai doesn't change that. That noise - why does it bother you?"
Mizuchi fidgets with the cuff around her neck. "Doesn't seem that safe..." She mutters. "This whole place is noisy. It used to be quiet and peaceful. You couldn't make noise like that because it could attract certain youkai. Repeated noises were usually the work of sakabashira. Finding that in the village was dangerous. I’d have to come with—" Mizuchi falls silent. Reimu watches curiously. "...I preferred it before," Mizuchi murmurs, her eyes downcast.
It's not an exaggeration, Reimu knows. Even when she’d been a child, the village had resembled Mizuchi’s words. But then came the Spell Card Rules. Then came danmaku duels, and the world became just a little brighter and safer for the villagers.
"What else do you miss?" Reimu asks, draining her teacup. "From back then."
Mizuchi isn't ready to answer that question, Reimu quickly realises. The aches from their duel in the mountains haven't faded yet, and Mizuchi’s emotional scars may never heal. Asking a question like that is foolish. If Reimu was smart, she’d have asked something banal. Something comfortable and light.
But Mizuchi takes the question gracefully. She looks away again, this time toward the edge of the village. Out there, Reimu knew, lay bamboo. "...I guess there's some bits. The tea was better. The village was more intimate." She looks across the canal. "Just...there, on the other side, there used to be a cart where a nice old man sold sweets. Sometimes, after we’d had a job in the village, we’d stop there. I was never a fan of sweet food. It's okay in moderation, but she..." The vengeful spirit trails off again, and this time, the silence extends far longer. Reimu wonders just what Mizuchi is seeing through those strange eyes of hers. "...Times change, I guess."
Reimu finds that she's tried to reach out and pat Mizuchi's hand unthinkingly. Awkwardly, she pulls back and tries to establish some distance. "Change isn’t bad. People can shout freely and walk the streets without stress. Some youkai do come here, but they know what they stand to lose if they break the rules. It's a different world these days."
Mizuchi seems to give her words some thought. It’s more than Reimu expects.
Reimu pauses, her finger sliding across the rim of her teacup. "Why did you remember a sweets cart?" She asks.
Mizuchi's eyes drop down to her hands. She takes a while to answer. "I was always too thin. The sweets…were her way of trying to make me gain weight."
Reimu doesn’t bother pushing for more details on her ancestor. "You must miss her," she murmurs instead.
"She sealed me. My grudge exists because of her. My existence is rooted in hatred for her, and you by extension." Mizuchi's words don't have the bite Reimu expects. A ghost of a smile crosses the vengeful spirit’s face. "...She was my best friend."
Reimu nods silently. Her predecessor failed to seal Mizuchi as she should have. Had she been sloppy? Or had she just been too soft? Reimu watches Mizuchi draw a breath and looks away, frowning to herself.
“She’d probably be jealous of you. Your era is much more carefree than ours. Just…playing danmaku games and sitting around, drinking tea.” Mizuchi murmurs, rubbing her eyes.
Reimu looks down at her empty teacup. She is older now than her mother had been when she’d died. The latest in a long line of dead Hakurei women.
Everyone paid a price for this peace.
“Come on,” the Hakurei Shrine Maiden says, standing. “You’ve still got a few people to apologise to.”