Chapter Text
Much and more has been said about the incident resolvers of Gensokyo, about their journeys down past the threshold of the abyss, their victories over the odds, spirits, gods, or devils that may cross their path. Relatively little ink has been spilled on their return however. Especially when it pertains to what could generously be described as a tragic failure.
Marisa Kirisame was a fine tapestry of fresh wounds, interwoven were clay arrow marks, chisel strikes and the general makings of a bad time. Upholding her were countless aching muscles, just about all over her body, reminding her just how lucky she was to even be alive… tho even that was up for debate.
She was currently crossing the Sanzu River in a way few humans would get to experience. Marisa was going home. As the shores of Gensokyo came into view it became all the clearer that she had left something irreplaceable behind during her failed excursion to the Animal Realm. The magician raised her hand to her face. Choked down a chuckle and let her eyes wander to the sleepy ferrywoman beside her. She knew nothing, and perhaps, with a little luck and no small amount of magic, Marisa could make this stick.
With the first, and the second step onto shore came anxiety. But the earth refused to swallow her up and spit her back to where she belonged. She had won. Marisa fell to her knees, kissed the shore, felt the awful gritty sand on her lips and the daunting eyes on her back.
Perhaps this needed a bit more practice. The images filled her head, and she imitated them as best she could. She readjusted her hat and raised her left hand up to her neck as she put on a record winning smile.
“Ahaha, been a long trip doncha think?” That was how she spoke… right?
“Yeah… sure is. Be safe on your way now, would be a shame to take you back across so soon.” The ferrywoman joked. Marisa smiled and nodded before putting one foot in front of the other, only to be foiled. “Hey, Marisa?”
“Got somethin’ ya wanna say?” The magician responded, almost to the ferrywoman.
“Are you sure you want to leave without your broom? It’s still in the boat.”
“Ah, thanks! Imma get it right away.”
Sanzu river clay had, even when fired, a particular scent it carried. Much like other porous stoneware it had pleasant earthy tones and was great at collecting scents from its environment. Perhaps a bit too good. The clay carried a peculiar fragrance of thyme and nettles even when fired, perhaps reminiscent of the time the Spirit Garden was still a lush forest. The scent filled Marisa’s nose, no, her whole head; an all too stark reminder of her own atelier back home.
This however was not Marisa’s home in the forest of magic. That much was clear by the slight buzz of electric wiring and the harsh bright light that filled her first conscious vision. If she needed another hint, it came in the form of Mayumi Joutouguu, proud Haniwa soldier of the Primate Spirit Garden whose expressionless face had her full attention.
“Ah, Miss Kirisame, good morning. Glad to see you’re finally awake.” Spoke the idol with an inflection that could only be described as practiced.
“Mo–mo…” Marisa tried to swallow, cough, and sigh in order, but her body did not cooperate. “…Mornin’… hey, what’s any of this, where in the world am I, and what is wrong with my voice?!” The witch managed to blurt out.
“Ah, you’re in the Worshop Temple of the Primate Spirit Garden. You are safe here. Lady Keiki has requested I ask you some questions as soon as you got up, if you don’t mind?” Mayumi spoke with a tender tone that almost made up for the fact she couldn’t express. It was enough to let Marisa drop her guard if only for a moment.
“Hey no, wait you’re the clay chick I blasted earlier! ‘pologies for that, the crackin’ on your face looks like I did a good number on ya. Uh–” Marisa raised a finger up to point only to realize it was not hers; she wasn’t prone to take back the times she boasted about recognizing the back of her hand.
Mayumi likewise raised a finger to the sparkling cracks on her face and slightly turned her head. “Ah, don’t worry. These are from long ago. In fact I quite cherish the fight we had. I never thought I’d have a chance to test my strength against a real human. You were amazing, shining like a brilliant star!”
“Ah– thanks I suppose. But ehh why’s my hand– no, your hand look like mine.”
“You’re right, we should not stray from the topic at hand.” Mayumi was eerily silent for a moment after that. “Right, apologies. Satono has been trying to teach me this thing called humor and I thought it would lift the spirit a bit.” Another eerie silence filled with only the buzzing of wires. “Right, right. Miss Kirisame, what is the last readable entry in your memories?”
“I erm… was gettin’ my ass whooped by that blue haired goddess. At at least my body was, that damn eagle spirit doesn’t know the first blasted thing about puttin’ on a good show let me tell ya.”
Mayumi cut in before the witch ran her mouth “And… what are your thoughts on Lady Keiki as they stand?”
“She interested? I mean she’s a looker for sure, guess it comes with the territory bein’ a goddess and all but I really dig her style.”
“Right. Right.” The idol attempted to cover her face and broke off Marisa’s eyeline before continuing. “No thoughts of revenge, pride, resentment, avarice?”
“Nah, but I’ll tell ya what I’m feelin’” Marisa lifted herself up from her bed and looked down to see a replica of her usual black and white dress carved immaculately out of terracotta. The skin on her knees was likewise the same shade as Mayumi’s complete with the layered joints that allowed for movement. “What in the hells have you done to me?!” Marisa felt the energy of the yell resound within her whole body. She wanted to be angry, way more angry than she was but her body wouldn’t muster the aggression, there was no blood to boil, no red to see, and no heat to rise to her head.
“I apologize Miss Kirisame–”
“Marisa, please, for fucks' sake. You’ve taken enough from me already at least let me keep that!”
“Alright. Marisa. I am sorry, please allow me to explain. When you were possessed by the eagle spirit, Lady Keiki tried to exorcise it from your body. As She told it, it was no longer your body at that point and therefore the spirit that was exorcised was, well, the human one.”
“You tellin’ me that eagle bastard has my real body now?!”
“We couldn’t stop her from escaping and we estimate she should have arrived on the other side of the Sanzu river by now. As for your current body, we had to create something quickly before we lost your soul. Lady Keiki worked Her miracles to make it as close as she could to your original but the medium still has its limitations…”
Marisa may or may not have wanted to respond to this but as things stood, getting off of the stone stab that counted for a bed filled her head with the the grinding hissing sounds of terracotta rubbing against itself. The stiffness of her joints almost tripped her up as she climbed over the edge. Mayumi was kind enough to offer a stabilizing hand as the clay witch tried to take make her limbs carry her off to the nearest mirror.
Memories of motor skills ground against the inflexibility of her form and likewise did stimuli of emotions she ought to be feeling. The ghost of sweat on her palm, the whisper of heat, the nonexistent hairs to stand on end. It was all that keeping her from slapping Mayumi’s helpful hands away. ‘This wasn’t her fault’ the clay demanded her to feel, ‘She’s been nothing but helpful’ it reminded her.
Marisa however was no stranger to these kind of mind games and one look into her own hollow eyes trough the mirror was enough to snap her back to reality. This wasn’t the first Animal Realm denizen messing with her psyche, but with some elbow grease she could make it the last.
“Hey Mayumi? She’s over in the sideroom right?” Marisa demanded.
“Lady Keiki is hard at work in the studio at the moment. We Haniwa shouldn’t disrupt her when she’s–”
“We? Listen here and listen well…” Marisa raised her voice as she took a step towards the studio. “I aint one of you clay-dolls, never will be…” The second and third step had her almost tripping but she carried the momentum forward. “I am the finest human magician this world’s ever seen,” she caught her rythm halfway to the door, confidently rushing towards it. “Stuffin’ me in a flowerpot aint gonna change that! I’ll get my body back from that fraud goddess right– eh… whadaymean it’s locked?!” She blurted out, tugging at the handle over and over.
Mayumi visibly sagged her shoulders, and walked over, making the process look as easy as it ought to be. She placed a hand on the nearby glass panel causing the door to light up with a welcome green glow. “This is not protocol, but please, accept it as an apology.”
With those words Marisa tumbled trough the door and was immediately greeted by the vast and holy workplace. Various tools and displays lined the walls while several kilns fired at the far edge of the room. As much as the room had to show, there was little to see, difficult as it was to peel one's eyes away from the Goddess and her potterwheel at the center. A clear blue waterfall of hair roiled and rushed behind her back as she worked. She was accompanied by the golden phantasm that wrapped around her arms and ended with the head of dragon.
Even as Marisa’s unsteady footsteps drew near her she kept her hands locked to the wheel. The miracle of shape quickly took hold of the hunk of spinning clay. Forming the basis for a Haniwa Helmet or piece of armor.
“Welcome.” The goddess decreed. She detached herself from the work, soaked her hands in a pail of water and dried them off.
“Hey. Keiki, wasn’t it? I wanna issue a complaint about this body you gave me.”
The goddess turned to face her more complete work, leveling her bright magenta eyes to Marisa’s hollow. “Naturally, no creation is left without want. Please state your issue.”
“I’m supposed to be at least two inches taller than this.” She pouted.
“Oh my, that would be a grave oversight. Please show me your left hand.” Keiki hummed and took the hand that was presented to her. “Hmm, as I had assumed.”
“Whu-whazzat?! Why is there an inscription fadin’ away, what’d you do to me?”
“Me? Nothing. All Haniwa are inscribed with the mark of truth and it fades when they tell their first lie. I have to say I’ve never seen it happen this quickly.”
“Y–your magic’s faulty then, sham goddess! Howabouts you work a miracle and get me my damn body back! You’ll see just how tall I’m supposed to be.”
“My poor, precious human.” Keiki reached over to the vertically disputed Haniwa and wrapped her arms around her. Fingertips sought the grooves they had carved and Marisa’s head rested comfortably between the tools of her apron.
“Hey! Aintcha a bit touchy for our first time talkin’?”
“Oh, ah, of course I only meant to bring you comfort.” Keiki had let go of the girl but maintained a familiar distance. “Had I not acted when I did, you might have lost both your body and your soul. There was no telling how far that Eagle Spirit would’ve gone but as the prideful creatures they are, I doubt it would’ve much cared to concede.”
“Eagle or not, suppose I did just waltz in here to kick your ass…” As Marisa spoke the last embers gave way leaving an emptiness in their place.
“Given the freedom to live a life one never asked, only to be burdened with a debt too steep to repay. You humans toil and sweat every day of your short lives just for a chance to leave a mark on this world. I think you, more than anyone, should understand that art is naught without sacrifice. And what greater one to make than the one thing you are given, yet can never regain.” Her preaching slid down to a tone bearing more earthly weight. “Choosing to save you came at no small cost to the Spirit Garden. I hope you understand that much.”
“What do you want? My undying fealty just cause you saved my ass?”
“I will not be as cruel as life itself. A compromise is in order I think. Come work for two years, we shall make this garden flourish. Restore the damages you have dealt to my forces, give the human spirits a fighting chance and they’ll thank you when your time comes.”
“Not my style. You expect me to just twiddle my thumbs while my body is out there ruinin’ the good will I built myself?”
“You are naturally free to leave. However, your soul is in a fragile state as it is. Even if you were to capture the spirit possessing your body, do you trust anyone in Gensokyo to be capable of returning you to said body?”
“Hmph, I’m sure Patchy or Alice can figure somethin’ out.” Marisa barely mumbled.
“You do not sound certain. Let me make you an offer that perhaps better speaks to your spirit; a bet if you will. I will grant you passage to the world above, and if it accepts you back as the true Marisa Kirisame, I shan’t keep you here. In fact, the Eagle Spirit is an Animal Realm problem after all so it falls onto me to return your body.”
“What’s the catch?”
“If the people you once held dear fail to see you for who you are, then what world is there for you to return to other than mine? Let the spirit live your life and accept your place down here with me. I will ensure you are taken care of to the best of my abilities. You will live with purpose and comfort as protector of the Primate Spirit Garden.”
“You’re insane, lady… But I getcha if you wanna place a losin’ bet! There’s no way some chump spirit can master the spark of a genuine human magician.”
“Then we have an agreement. I do look forward to seeing you again soon, my dear precious Marisa.”
What in the world was it that Marisa did all day. Or so thought Marisa, the one currently inhabiting the witch's body, enjoying whatever scraps of dried mushrooms she found laying around her kitchen… at least she hoped this was the kitchen. It had been a day of getting lost, dragging her beaten and broken body across Gensokyo only to figure out she should really have been paying better attention when this home’s owner made her way home.
With all that resolved, Marisa was left with the unequivocally human conundrum: how long did she have left. Did she have a once in a afterlife opportunity to live a little? Enjoy being Marisa for as long she could, blow all her cash and goodwill in a blaze. Or was there something more to this, did she have a second chance at life, one that may not originally have been hers but sure as all Hell beat working for Yuuma.
Then there was the actual, reasonable option. Doing her godsdamned job. Teach that human goddess a lesson, reclaim their Animal Realm glory, be praised by one and all for spreading their influence to even Gensokyo using her immaculate tactics and brilliant foresight.
Besides, this body had magic. She almost got that sham Goddess last time, maybe with a little more preparation and a few kind words, she could have it all. There was no need to hold back this time now that this body was all hers.
And then there was that damned knocking. Was there always a knocking in this house? Maybe the wind had loosened some sign or plank outside, at this rate it was driving her mad. Marisa had to make her way trough the maze that was her house and have it dealt with.
“Hey Marisa, you home?” The words came in the moment it was too late not to open the door.
The witch was immediately confronted with the red and white of a shrine maiden who ought to be a lot more familiar. Whatever their relationship was supposed to be did not make itself apparent on the miko’s face. There was an impenetrable fog of relief, disappointment and just about everything in between.
“Ah– Rei?…rei… Remi!! It’s good to see ya again!” Marisa stammered.
The raise of a single eyebrow did more damage than an oversized spoon or a dozen rejections could ever muster. “…Pleasure. Not sure how Remilia would feel if you started calling me that tho.”
“Right of course, hehe! Come on in.” She said to the shrine maiden who was very much already making herself at home on her sofa.
Marisa joined her, sitting opposite across a tea table that was occupied by everything but tea. The two sat in two very distinct flavors of silence for a moment. The miko leveling a gentle yet uncaring glance at the which who was expectantly waiting for the other to start conversation. When this sense of unease nearly boiled over into a very disingenuous ‘come here often?’ the miko decided to scrap her throat.
“So I take it the trip down wasn’t very successful? I had a wolf spirit offering to help me resolve the incident myself.”
“Ah, yeah. There’s some evil god messin’ up the Animal Realm and causing all this trouble. She fights dirty so it’s best I warn ya, if you give her a chance ya’ll end up like me.”
“Right. As long as I don’t get half as cocky as a certain witch I know things should turn out fine then. I can tell she did a good number on you tho.” She sighs and gets up from the sofa. “Just this once then…”
“Huh, where ya going?”
“Picking up on your lackluster hosting, Marisa. Let me see if I remember where your tea kettle and everything is.”
As Marisa saw her guest rummage trough the pots and pans of what might be her kitchen she realized she had a perfect opportunity. The miko had left her overcoat behind at the entrance and it might have something to identify her with… or at least remind her what her relationship with Marisa was supposed to be.
The clattering of kitchenware and pots was reassuring enough to let her pull various items out of the coat, she shouldn’t be found out lest her guest had a supernatural sense of intuition after all. A few ofuda with a… rather incomprehensible god’s name slipped out as well as some needles. Further more there were a few plucks of dust and not a single yen to show. Marisa was getting desperate for anything; anything other than the hand firmly that gripped her shoulder.
“Hey, you’re getting sloppy, old friend.” The miko’s voice said with no derision.
“Wh–what do ya mean, I was simply makin’ sure it wouldn’t fall off the hook is all! I umm… yeah these fell out! C’mon you know me better than that!”
“Mhmm…” The miko hummed with a slight smile, perhaps the closest she could get out of her to a chuckle. “Alright, it’s been a long week, you don’t need to prove yourself.”
Marisa had had a long week at her back, and at her new back too. If anyone were to tell her climbing down the Sanzu River, fighting every spirit, warden and ferrywoman that crossed her path sounded difficult… She would urge them to consider how much trouble it would be to crawl one’s way back up into Gensokyo, apologizing to each and every soul that could now blast you into potsherds.
Luckily Kutaka was a bit of a birdbrain when it came to details and what material the entrants were supposed to be made of. All in all, returning to Gensokyo had left her with more of ennui than any sense of accomplishment.
She wanted little more than to return to her cozy cottage and brew a warm cup of tea… if only she could drink it. Then the real work could start… she had three primary candidates to work through in order to win her bet with Keiki.
Foremost was Reimu. She had been with the miko for as long as she had memories and more importantly, she had dealt with her fair share of youkai stealing her face. The history was a two way street however as it did involve her admitting her failures when it came to resolving the latest incident. One more chance for Reimu to make off with a glory she barely even wanted.
Then there was Nitori. She was perhaps her most viable partner for any intellectual or magical sparring. The kappa and her had been involved in a long term project for the last couple years. While most of the process involved butting heads with the lead engineer, it also meant that she and Nitori knew each other’s peculiarities better than either of them really wanted to.
Finally there was Alice, her on and off girlfriend for the last couple years… the doll maker was a creature of habit and therefore would, more than anything, like to believe everything is as it ought be. If the Eagle Spirit had gotten to her first, she might spell trouble. Especially since Alice had the spare keys to Marisa’s house.
A solid day’s travel later, Marisa had gained a profound appreciation for just how nice it was to have her broom, and likewise, an appreciation for her now tireless limbs. That said, her profoundly tirable spirit had had just about enough of the scenic route and couldn’t wait to get back home. She tried not to think about who or what may have taken residence in it.
None of the fairies nor youkai on the trail had given her reason to find out what she was capable of; perhaps thanks to the fact she looked neither scareable nor edible. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the risk of an encounter grew, but by then she was already in the familiar Forest of Magic. This close to home she had built up enough rapport not to cause any territorial disputes, even tho a few glaring eyes were keen to remind her that her hard work might not count for much at the moment.
Just before the frequency of the suspicious rustling could reach a peak, Marisa found her way to the door of Alice Margatroid. She knocked on it thrice with the sound of a potted plant being deposited on a windowsill.
A moment later Marisa stood in front of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, tho this was not the first time she had seen her, nor the most beautiful she had seen her at. For starters the heavy scowl she carried didn’t play well with her otherwise soft and elegant features.
“H–honey, I’m home!” Marisa chimed.
“Another step and my dolls will be sweeping up your shards till snowfall. Truly, your nerve transcends even my wildest expectations.” Alice warned, freezing the witch in place. “I see how it is with you, insatiable wench that you are. Truly, how could little ol’ Alice ever hope to compete with the allure of an actual craftswoman goddess. Yet that you still manage to scrounge up the chutzpa when you’re done being her little plaything. Astounding.” Alice reached up on a shelve and tossed a key straight at Marisa, chipping a bit off her arm. “I wish you good luck in life, and that you beware of those in search of the endless fount of temerity you seem to possess. Goodbye, Marisa.”
“Ya’ve gotta miss me at least a lil bit? C’mon I can explain.” Marisa hurried to jam a foot between the door frame.
“You wish to indulge me on your deviant endeavors with Her Illustrious Highness? About how eager you were to have her take your measurements? About how her immaculate miracles of the craft are heavens above my mere doll making? Or perhaps you’d like to start about her long flowing hair and sultry voice? And to think that just yesterday you were decrying the evils of this so called idola deus.”
“Yesterday? That wasn’t me–”
“Oh this wouldn’t be the first time ‘this isn’t you’. Especially since it was you who was so adamant against being part of my experiments. You’ll trust some random goddess to mess with your form but not your own girlfriend. Even after all the safety precautions I prepared for you, the countless hours I poured into replicating your facsimile, you wouldn’t even consider it.”
“Alice, I promise, I didn’t want this!”
“Then you got what you bloody well deserve!”
With a final slam of the door Marisa made a tactical retreat to avoid the mutually assured destruction of her girlfriend's door and her shoe. Or foot, it was a blurry line at this point. The walk over to her own home was short, shameful, and only remediated by the fact that the windows were dark. If her body was here, it was asleep. If it wasn’t, she’d get the first bit of rest she had since kissing Alice goodbye and setting off to Higan. She had come a long way, in the same way that the Hakurei Shrine had lots of room for economic growth.
The turn of a key and two steps into the building was enough to dissuade any attempt at sneaking around. Not that there was anything to hide from other than couple stray silverfish.
Marisa sat alone in her kitchen. She had done all the steps of her morning routine. Found all the misplaced pots and utensils, cooked the rice, filled a bowl, fried up some previously-dried mushrooms with rosemary and a splash of old sake.
She lifted the chopsticks to her face, herbal and earthy notes danced together as they caught in the slits of her mouth. It was carved in a permanent state of nonplussed aghastment. If anything she would have the right expression for the day that she would learn Kosuzu had a falling-out with her tenuous humanity. Or when Patchy complained about her assistant’s prolonged absences. At least it was versatile. The other Haniwa had similarly carved faces so there must have been a reason. Marisa immediately reeled at her own thought yet had no way to return the words other Haniwa to whence they came.
Surely, Keiki must have carved her mouth this shape for a reason. Surely, she was capable of eating even if she wasn’t capable of feeling hunger. Marisa didn’t particularly think about this fact until the food was already on her plate. Staying in motion meant she had a moment before the truth caught up to her, so she got up. Opened a window, let some of the cool fall air into her house, and sat back down.
Marisa lifted the cup of green tea up to her mouth and immediately was hit by the fact this was not going to work without lips. A short brainstorming sessions later she angled her head in such a way that she could pour the liquid in a thin stream; only having half of it cover her face. Marisa got to feel like a well seasoned piece of Tokoname earthware before she shoved back her chair and left the building.
The path to the Hakurei shrine was one Marisa had known pebble by pebble, but not one she had walked in years. It may have only taken her till noon if she hadn’t found every excuse to hide or stop in her tracks to avoid notice. About halfway trough the journey she discovered a brand new design for tengu paparazzi landmines… or just a snapping branch that sounded vaguely like a shutter.
At the top of a potentially exhausting set of stairs she found her. Sweeping fall leaves into a pile and undoubtedly daydreaming about sweet potatoes. Reimu did not acknowledge the new presence. Marisa, likewise, moved wordlessly towards the front of the shrine and sat herself down on the patio.
The wind was given a moment to brush more leaves beneath the torii gates before the miko put away her broom and sat down beside the clay witch. They sat, almost as they always had. Marisa immediately noticed the gaping abyss between the two. Reimu sat no more than one or two centimeters further away than she normally had, a difference almost imperceptible.
Their conversation started, as it always did, with a deep sigh. Reimu did not turn towards her friend, nor did her expression change. All she did was scan her eyes up and down like reading a scroll.
“It has been a while since you sent one of these, Alice.”
“I aint Alice! You’re lookin’ at the genuine article Marisa Kirisame in the– well not quite flesh but close enough.”
“Right, right. Marisa Kirisame in the not-quite-flesh.” Reimu almost chuckled. There was a tension that washed off her posture and she turned to look at her friend. “I’m glad Alice is feeling inspired again. It has been a couple years since she sent a fully autonomous one to the shrine. I suppose that craftswoman goddess inspired her in some way?”
“Reimu, stop, this ain’t a game!”
“Not a game, what did she call these… a ‘turning test’ or something? I remember it was some experiment she read about in an outside world book.”
“Damn it, I’m beggin’ ya! Alice didn’t make me, Keiki didn’t make either! I am the real Marisa and I don’t wanna be trapped in this flowerpot, you gotta help me!”
“Well, you’re not off to a very good start, I’d say. Marisa wouldn’t sound that despondent, in fact so eagerly coming to me for help… I don’t think Marisa’s pride would allow her to; let alone be this blatant about it.”
Marisa held onto those words as if pulling them out now would have her spontaneously bleed out across the shrine grounds. Reimu was right. She wasn’t feeling the feelings she ought to be. She ought to be fixing this herself, pouring trough tomes, blasting anyone who got in her way with a Master Spark this world had never seen before. It wasn’t that she was above asking for help. But she sure as hell wouldn’t come here without being burned once or twice first.
“Aight, howzabout I tell ya somethin’ only Marisa would know? Right after the Imperishable Night incident you and Yukari were spendin’ an awful lotta time together and I got jealous. Found a way to tear open one of her gaps and got my way into her home where–”
“Marisa.” Reimu cleared her throat before continuing. “Apologies, it is no secret Marisa has slept with half of Gensokyo at some point or another. I would not be surprised if it’s the only thing preventing us from having a major incident each year.”
“Whadaya… fine then how about the firework display two years back. I worked with Nitori to give the village somethin’ to remember but we miscalculated the amounts and–”
“And almost blew up half the mountainside in a runaway test fire. Only to be saved by the fact that the Scarlet Devil maid got curious about their dwindling rocketry supplies. Listen, half of Marisa’s daily activities result in something noteworthy or cantankerous enough to warrant a tengu special. The other half will, undoubtedly, run trough the perpetual rumor mill we call Gensokyo. I bet people who Marisa has never talked to could probably share half a dozen stories like that. You’re not convincing anyone, doll.” Reimu leaned backwards, rested on her arms and stared up at the roof or something beyond it.
When Marisa didn’t fill the dead air of her own accord, Reimu continued. “Maybe if you had come up with some different tales. Like the time when we were kids and you got stuck in the tree that used to stand there.” She motioned with her eyes. “Marisa was so proud to show off the fact you could lift off your broom. You refused to let me help you out of there because you ‘had it under control’ and this was all part of ‘being a magician’. Or, the time Marisa got into an argument about outside world snacks with Sumireko and she spent the rest of the week blowing up rice and buckwheat.”
“Huh? What are ya talkin’ about those things didn’t happen… at least they’re not worth rememberin’. I know who I am, I know what I did, I am the Marisa you’re talkin’ about!”
Reimu stood up and got a closer look at the terracotta figure beside her. It was the kind of look one gave to a pot of soup, and the closeness one gave to a ladle. Not unkind but not familiar either. She grabbed her broom before she started talking again. “You can tell Alice she’s welcome to try again. And to say hi to Marisa for me, she’s been spending too much time with the kappa lately.”
It was a busy day in the Kappa Workshop, experiments were ran, materials refined and deals were struck. Everything that could not happen in winter, had to happen now. This made it all the more strange (or annoying, depending on who you asked) that lead engineer Nitori Kawashiro was out and about the False Heaven Shelf.
Joining her was the one she believed to be Marisa Kirisame. Both of them were hard at work making the final preparations on a white disk-shaped device. It caught the midday sun in an almost blinding sheen, only mitigated by the occasional black stripe holding various buttons and lights.
“Alrighty, done! How’s it looking on your end, Marisa? Make sure you don’t have any screws left over, she’s barely stable to begin with.” Nitori said.
“‘Course, I’d never forget anythin’ that crucial.” Marisa replied, curiously readjusting her foot to hide something in the grass. “Should be all good to go.”
With that sign Nitori picked up the device, it looked sizable enough to counterbalance her backpack but she looked visibly delighted by how light it was. “This plastic stuff’s really amazing! Who’d have thunk the last piece to making this work would come from some Animal Realm matriarch.”
“Yeah, Yuuma’s been plannin’ business with the Yamawaro as well. These here animal spirits ain’t as bad as they seem at first dont’cha think?”
“Hmm, well, I try not to get too involved with Gensokyo’s politics. It is nice to see you have managed to resolve an incident without blasting each other with spell cards for once. But, enough dilly dallying, aren’t you excited to take her on a maiden voyage?” Nitori beamed.
“Ah… well, ya see Nitori… could we do it another day? Wanna take a nice long walk with it first? The mountain is awful windy up here and I wouldn’t want it to get damaged now…”
“Marisa…?” Nitori failed to hide a smile as she placed the machine down and walked up closer to the witch. “Never thought I would get that out of you. Honestly it’s a bit of a relief to know even you get these feelings sometimes.” She brushed the scales on the back of her neck as she spoke.
“Y–yeah we’ve worked on it so long would be a shame to be seein’ it go up in smoke!” Marisa blustered.
“Now, now, Marisa. You have to understand that anxiety you’re feeling is a natural part of the process.” Nitori placed her claws on Marisa’s arms to reassure her. “You’re afraid of what it will be like when you wake up tomorrow morning and you don’t have this one big project to invest all your time and energy into. I’ve been there many a time. But this is a good chance to spend some time with Alice, after all, you haven’t seen her in a week. Take some time to unwind, regain your energy. Heck you probably don’t even realize how tired you actually are.”
“Great, ye, let’s see Alice, right now, c’mon we gotta go!” Marisa grabbed the Kappa by the hand an dragged her a step or two before a voice rooted the both of them.
“I heard the Animal Realm’s great this time of year, howzabout you return that body and enjoy a nice long vacation!” A clayborne voice boomed from behind the two.
“Bwuh?!” Nitori quickly turned around clutching her creation tight to her chest. She shot a panicked look at the terracotta Marisa in front of her, then at the skin and bone Marisa to her side. The kappa then took a step away from both of them.
“Ah, um, you look like an automaton of some sorts, aren’t you? Fascinating, quite so.”
“Be very careful Nitori, that one’s from the twisted goddess I told ya about! Doncha go believin’ a word she says.” Marisa warned.
“Sorry to disappoint, just the genuine article, and that there’s a Eagle Spirit possessin’ my body!” The clay counterpart retorted.
For a moment Nitori’s eyes strayed off the edge of the plateau. The machine in her hands pulled her back to reason and in turn she placed it down onto the grass. “Surely we can be rational about this… And no, I am not going to ask you to share something only we know. Nor will I have you perform some inane personality test. Memories are way too malleable to trusted with that.” She raised a claw up to the clay Marisa and called out. “You, come here.”
As she followed the instruction Nitori studied the manner by which her joints and limbs moved. The kappa pulled a notebook out of her bag and scribbled a quick note in it for later, then turned her scrutiny up the figure’s face. “Let me start with the obvious question. If you are the real Marisa, why are you made out of clay.”
“No one around here is askin’ you why you’re made outta cucumber and scales now do they?”
“My composition doesn’t regularly change.”
“Fair. Well, I was possessed by that damn spirit and Keiki got the wrong one out. When I woke up I found myself in this idol.”
“Right. And what is your first memory?” Nitori asked, fidgeting with her claws.
“I ahhh, remember my father and stealin’ this box that contained–”
“Not like that. The first thing that happened to this body.” The kappa levels a claw at Marisa’s chest.
“I was layin’ on some slab and there was anoth– a haniwa lookin’ over me makin’ sure I was alright.”
“She’s the one that told you that you are Marisa and your body was stolen?”
“Ye pretty much…”
“Bingo.” Nitori proclaimed, adjusting her hat and raising her demeanor from interrogating to explaining. “Have you considered the simple solution that you are but a clay automaton reproduction of Marisa, inscribed with some basic memories of a past life? Generic enough to be anyone’s, a few snippets of tengu newspapers thrown in.”
“Wha–why would Keiki go trough all that when she can just make a new doll– more importantly, why are ya sidin’ with that thing!!” The terracotta figure points at her flesh counterpart.
“Well, that thing over there has been an invaluable aid the last week and a better friend than she ever was before. I’ve been able to progress the magic replication research leaps and bounds with her help. She has been diligently working, dawn to dusk on our latest project, plus barely any items have disappeared from my workshop recently.” Nitori catches herself, swallows and starts fidgeting again. “Can you really blame me for wanting to believe she’s my dear friend?”
“Nitori… you’ve gotta be kiddin’ here. She isn’t me, ya can’t replace me with some Animal Realm phony no matter what I did to wrong ya…”
“You’ve hit the nail right on the head there. And there is logically only one thing I can expect from the so-called real Marisa.”
“And what’s that?”
The kappa turns around, lifts the device up and presses it up against the clay witch’s chest. “That tenacious spirit and indomitable magic, the real Marisa would never lose to a phony.” She smugly remarked.
“Huh?! I can’t even fly, how am I supposed to win a spell-card duel like a plantpot? And what’s this legless bar-stool for?”
“This ‘legless bar-stool’ is modeled after an popular outside world cleaning apparatus, much like the traditional broom. A modern spin for a modern witch. I call it the Witch's Broomba. It is specially designed to grant flight to those without magical aptitude.”
“This looks nothin’ like a broom, but aight. I don’t need much more to kick that Eagle’s ass!”
One haphazard solution later, a sizable stick was tied to the electronic broom substitute and both Marisae hovered above Youkai Mountain. Nitori had positioned herself a safe distance away, and by virtue of her undivided attention on the clay counterpart, was more invested in the performance of her invention than anything combat related. So far, said invention was doing everything expected from it.
The claybound Marisa had missed the cold brush of wind only being this high up could provide, even without the sensation of it blowing trough her hair there was the slight whistle as it rushed past her carved curls.
Hovering opposite her, about ten meters away, the other Marisa stared her down like her life depended on it. It had never occurred to the witch that she’d never seen herself– or her body rather– in flight before. All the same she could tell that the way her broom was held was just slightly crooked. The angle at which the Hakkero rested in her palm was off, and the braid in her hair most notably was on the wrong side.
For that crime, and likely some others, Marisa shot off on her electric broom. Immediately it became apparent that the acceleration did not follow a gradual incline like she was used to from her broom. Instead it accelerated slowly at first then almost shot out from beneath her. She hurdled towards her opponent at such a speed that dodging her retaliatory projectiles was akin to threading a needle with a javelin. The javelin in question had managed to get a solid grip on her improvised broomhandle however and managed to only graze a few projectiles.
From this advanced range she had a chance to show what she was made of. Her usual barrage of missiles exploded from the tip of her broom, forcing the blood filled Marisa to circle out of the way. For a moment her own spell caught her off balance. Her missiles’ usual appearance shifted to appear unmistakably more, Haniwa-like, complete with little faces and arms.
This momentary distraction was enough for the Haniwa Marisa to be caught in a barrage of potions, the only opening that showed itself being straight up, out of their blast zone. An otherwise simple escape; if she was on her broom or in her body. Instead she smacked the back of her device in a bid for some energy it could not muster. And much to the bystanding Kappa’s dismay, it did not work. Marisa quickly found herself confronting a new route to dodge the ongoing attack, namely, involuntarily accelerating straight down.
As the boulders of Youkai Mountain grew in her view, Marisa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to shatter into a countless pieces, or about her future career as archaeological curiosity.
Then the fall stopped. Or at least turned into a fidgety imbalanced jerking motion as a hand caught her by the tip of her broom. She looked up to see her own face grinning brighter than the sun.
“Ya sure are cocky for a clay imitation. I’ll give that sham goddess credit where it’s due, it would almost be a shame smashin’ up that pretty face.” The human-looking witch said.
“Drop the act ya eagle Bastard. What even are ya plannin’? Live the rest of ya life with my stolen valor?” The clay Marisa shot back as she fumbled with some buttons on the device.
A moment later the mechanic broom jerked up in a flying motion, the stick hitting one Marisa square in face while the other flew off with it. She managed to reposition herself to face her opponent who took a moment to rub the red spot in her chin.
“I prefer the word borrowed. Or I would, if I had any clue what you’re yappin’ about, clay doll. I am Marisa Kirisame, ordinary human witch, and none of ya gods or youkai can take that away from me!”
In that moment Marisa held her mini Hakkero tight, leveled it against her clay foe and started letting the flames engulf the sky. For just a moment, fear bounced around the clay shell with no stomach to clutch onto and no throat to catch in, just a prefabricated smile.
She had after all been basked in a hotter flames than this already, a thousand and some centigrade kiln was no match for whatever this toy could conjure. But it sure as hell hid her counter attack. Magic was nothing but belief given form (and sometimes a body count). And the form in her hand was that of her own Hakkero, charging up to unleash a Master Spark this world had never seen before.
Flames gave way to smoke, and trough them Marisa could see the face that ought to be hers catch onto a fear she couldn’t muster. It was too late to dodge… if there was anything to dodge in the first place. Not even a spark.
“Hah, let me show ya how it’s done!” Marisa raised the real Mini Hakkero as she spoke.
With her fizzled spell the clay counterpart maybe could’ve carved a path to safety. But the broomba did not share her resilience to fire and sputtered it’s last complaint. The girl had only one option left to her, and it did not involve any magic, spells or flight. She kicked off the broom, and tackled the other Marisa with all her weight.
Both tumbled into the woods. Snapping branches kept the clay Marisa from shattering herself while the human one managed to catch her fall with a well timed spell. Both paid dearly however, bruises, scratches, a shattered arm, they crawled up to each other.
What kind of witch would be stuck without a last resort, one final potion or spell. She always kept a good stash of potions in her skirt but evidently those were already accounted for. Luckily a good witch wouldn’t be found dead without her hat.
Dodging a set of stars was all it took to get in range, rattling grinding and snapping joined every movement, but with the lost weight came added speed. The clay Marisa aimed her attack at her counterpart’s hat, and blasted magic straight at the last explosive potion hidden inside.
Sunlight shun trough the witches hat. Nothing was inside, no potion, no last resort, just lining. The hole became bigger, not because she kept firing, but because her opponent got closer.
“You’re a filthy thief. And not even a good one!” The idol complained.
“Ye?… then howzabout I set that right… and steal your heart as well!” The witch responded, pressing her mini Hakkero against her opponent's chest.
Light shun in from behind Marisa’s eyes. It was a cold unpleasant kind of light that made every color into its truest most imperfect self. It was like pointing a magnifying glass applied across the whole of someone’s vision, every little piece of grime, speck of dust and stain out and proud for the world to see. Not that Marisa had much to admire. Her eyes were covered by what could ungenerously be called a rag.
The first things that properly came into vision were the wrinkles congregating on Keiki’s forehead. Her patient’s awakening did not break the focus she had on Marisa’s abdomen.
“Heya… whatever happened to buyin’ a girl dinner first?”
“I’d say a girl needs to have her stomach in one piece if she wants to be considered invited for dinner.” The Goddess hummed.
“Ahh so I can eat after all huh?”
“When I have you patched up; as well as any other haniwa.”
The goddess continued her work, the odd sharp sensation of her carving tools ran trough the whole of Marisa’s body. With each stroke the rough edges of her wound were molded to match the replacement pieces laying beside her. Some good few had already been reattached, puzzle pieces that had joined the whole of her body once more.
“Never a straight answer with ya gods is it?” Marisa sighed, and laid her head back down. “Lemme try another one, how long’s it been?”
“Since you were last here? A little over a week. Since Mayumi found you and pulled you in? Two days. I’m just about to attack the final replacement part and you should be good to be out and about your new home.”
“I guess it’s your win then.”
“You make it sound as if giving up is the easiest thing in the world. Perhaps I should have another look at that head of yours as well.”
Keiki hesitated before attaching the final piece to close up Marisa’s stomach. Sealing up the murky insides gave clarity to her vision as the ceiling tiles became a distinct grid once again.
“Nothin’ loose rattling about there. At least nothin’ physical…”
“Speak your mind then.”
“Did ya… lie to me earlier? Did ya just make me last week, scribble some memories in me to make me believe I’m Marisa? Was I never… me to begin with?”
“Let me be so rude as to answer your question with another. Would you rather believe you’re the real Marisa?” Keiki’s voice was measured yet tempting. It was punctuated with slices that carved off excess material from the reattached parts. “That the people closest to you rejected you outright, had you replaced with an animal spirit who just came to possess your body. Would you like to believe that you were outdone in your capacity as a witch, a friend, and a partner? Or would you rather be my experiment. A failed spy, but still a proud Haniwa with purpose and a place in this world where she is loved, cared for, and appreciated.”