Shrine Maiden (A Modern-Day Touhou Quest)

"Last stop, Gensokyo. Last stop, Gensokyo."

Rei shifts groggily as the announcement filters through her muddled thoughts and turns to look out the window. She watches as the train circles a small bay ringed by a seawall and a handful of stone piers and then turns toward a prosaic downtown area. Eventually, the train slows to a stop, and she stands, accompanied by the satisfying crack of joints left immobile for too long.

A groping hand reaches into an overhead compartment and returns with an over-stuffed duffel bag that comes down to rest on a shoulder. Rei casts one last look over her seating area before stepping out into the aisle, right behind a blonde in a dark purple dress and a pale pink mob cap. A splash of color that she follows until it deposits her on the sidewalk in front of the station.

As the afternoon sun glares down into her eyes, Rei fumbles in her bag for the reason why she'd flown across the Pacific. A letter—one that had been sealed with a wax imprint of a yin-yang symbol of all things—unfolds in her hands, revealing elegant calligraphy that she'd read a dozen times yet refused to commit to memory.

Daughter

Tch. A low, annoyed sound escapes her, and she stifles the urge to ball the letter up and find a recycling bin. She still needed the directions at the bottom.

Or perhaps I have no right to that name. And yet, I cannot deny how it feels to write it. So please, daughter, Rei, forgive this old woman her sentimentality. And the bluntness of the things I must tell you.

"Well, it's too late for any of that now. Isn't it?" She scoffs, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

First, I would apologize to you for the wrongs my selfishness has inflicted upon you. I have many excuses. I was young. The relationship between your father and I was tumultuous at best. My work made it difficult to care for a child. But the truth is simpler than that, if far more hurtful. I never intended to have children.

The paper rustles with the force of her exhale. It was a miracle the letter had made it through her first read of that paragraph. A miracle that Auntie had been there to grab it away from her before she could rip it to shreds. A kernel of that anger still burned in her chest, but it was a fraction of what it had been when she'd first read these words. Now, she mostly felt numb. Tired.

When I found out I was pregnant with you, I panicked. Fortunately, my best friend—your mother—was there. She helped me through the pregnancy and did far more than anyone could ever ask in raising you. I will leave the specifics of our falling out for her to tell, but suffice it to say that this, too, resulted from my selfishness.

Rei had been too young to understand what was going on when they had left Japan. Even after it had occurred to her to ask, she never had. There had always been something melancholy about her Aunt whenever she spoke about their homeland. Now, she understood why.

Under any other circumstance, I would not be writing this letter—I promised I would never contact either of you again. And yet, I find myself unable to keep even that promise, for I am dying. By the time you read this, it is almost certain that I will have passed on.

Were it only the matter of my death, I would not burden either you or your mother in this way. My selfishness and neglect have already caused enough harm, and I have earned the lonely fate that awaits me.

Rei blinks away the stinging in her eyes and focuses on the world around her. The pure blue of the sky. The warmth of the sun shining down on her skin. The sweet smell of flowers wafting past her on a lazy breeze.

She looks back down.

Alas, circumstances have compelled me to reach out to you. The (the way the Shrine's name is smudged out is jarring compared to the rest of the letter) Shrine has been passed down in our family since the Heian Period. And while our family tree has never been profoundly fecund, it has never been pruned to the degree it is now.

To say it plainly, you and I are the last. And soon, it will be just you.

In Seattle, it had just been her and Auntie—her Aunt had been an only child, and her parents had died young. Now, it seemed they had something else in common.

A shake of the head banishes that morbid thought, and she looks back at the remaining paragraph.

I cannot, and would not even if I could, demand anything from you. Not after abandoning you. Instead, I ask that you come to Japan. See the Shrine. See the place in the world it occupies, for it is yours now. To dispense of however your heart sees fit.

Enclosed with this letter is a round-trip ticket and directions from the subway station to the Shrine. A spare key is waiting for you, hidden under a false rock to the left of the front door.

It doesn't end with a signature or name. Or any closing words. Rei might have just burned the letter if her mother had tried to sign off with something like 'love.' Instead, there's a hand-drawn, surprisingly detailed map with an arrow directing her from the train station to the Shrine.

She looks up from the map and recognizes the multi-colored awning of an ice cream shop reflected on her map with a cartoonish ice cream cone. For a moment, she debates sitting down to rest at one of the patio tables and enjoying something cool and sweet. But she couldn't find the energy.

Between the letter and the flight across the Pacific—and the hollowness sitting in her chest—Rei was exhausted. Perhaps after a nap, she would feel more human. But for now, all she wanted was to be by herself. So, instead of stopping in, she looks down at her map and begins walking.

A second-hand store, its windows so crowded by odds and ends that the lights in the store can barely be seen, sits next to a cobblestone path that takes her alongside a dry creekbed. A flower shop, its brightly painted door seemingly guarded by waist-tall sunflowers, passes by, and she takes the next left onto a narrow side street.

More landmarks pass by. An arcade. A sushi bar. A department store. A bookstore. But none truly catch her interest. Instead, she focuses on other things. The heat of the summer sun as it rises from the pavement. The soft chirp of insects hiding in grassy banks. The excited laughter of school children playing in the park. It was lovely—a far cry from Seattle's leaden skies.

The afternoon blurs into a pleasant haze as she walks. Muscles grown stiff from hours in a plane and then more hours on a train begin to loosen. A light sheen of sweat forms on her face, only to be carried away by a steady sea breeze.

Eventually, she turns past a statue to some famous someone or other and finds herself in the shade cast by the thick canopy overhead. Rei glances at the map one last time but hardly needed to check. In front of her was a small stone path that wended up a steep hill—a path framed by a faded red torii and a pair of stone statues.

With a sigh, she pockets her mother's note. She was finally there. At a Shrine half a world away from Auntie and her friends and her comfortable life.

For a moment, she stands there, dark eyes taking in the legacy tossed upon her by an absentee parent. It looked abandoned. Weeds had sprouted up between the stone steps and sprawled in thick knots across a sandy open space. Vast swathes of paint had flaked off in many places, revealing the smooth wood beneath. Moss had grown in along creviced bits of stone, including the mouth of one of the stone statues out front.

There was a foreclosed home in her neighborhood that had eventually started looking like this. It had taken months of neglect to get this bad, though. And her mother's letter had arrived less than a week ago. How could things have deteriorated so quickly, unless...

Just how long had mother been sick?

Her mind flinches back from the thought and the emptiness that comes with it, focusing instead on the Shrine itself. She'd come this far to see it; she might as well check it out up close. Maybe then she'd understand what was so important about it that her mother had broken her self-imposed silence and reached out to her.

Her duffel bag slips around to rest against her stomach, armor against the unease roiling within her. Rei swallows, burying the doubts and whispered voices in her mind, and steps forward. Toward the karma a single, unwanted letter had tied to her.

A wave of cold washes over her as she passes beneath the faded red torii. A violent shiver wracks her body as the feeling of plunging headfirst into a mountain lake engulfs her. Yet the feeling is gone before she can move to ward off the bracing cold. In its wake is a feeling of weightlessness— as though she were no longer weighed down by the shackles of gravity.

She was a cloud. A cloud floating across an azure sky toward the crimson of the setting sun. Across space stretched to near breaking between indifferent hands. Through time twisted into gnarled patterns. Through eternity and infinity toward a crimson gate that moved ever further away. Until, at last, a single foot crosses the invisible line that separates the sacred from the profane.

Rei blinks. The entrance to the Shrine stands in front of her. She turns around to gaze at the path back but cannot remember walking along it. A frown starts to cross her face but is interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn.

I must be more tired than I thought to be blanking out like that.

With a shrug, she dismisses the thought and moves toward the clearly plastic rock sitting conspicuously to one side of the door. Picking up the stone, she turns it over in her hands before spotting the cleverly concealed recess where a glint of brass awaited.

This was it. She plucks the key from its hiding place, sets the stone back down, and squares her shoulders. The key slides in easily; she twists it. The door opens.

Rei lets out a long, slow breath she doesn't even realize she's been holding in. Compared to the exterior of the Shrine, the interior was much nicer. The floors and walls were made from pale, almost shiny wood. Screen doors painted with simple bits of calligraphy separate the entrance hall from rooms further in.

Caught in admiration of the warm welcome of the Shrine's interior, it takes Rei a moment to realize there are no outlets in the main hall. A fact that sees her almost scrambling through the rest of the Shrine in search of electricity. Delicate screen doors snap open as she pokes her head into room after room, but there is nothing. There are no signs of electricity or running water, only a small propane stove tucked away in a lacquered storage chest.

Did mother really live here? How?

It was almost enough to make her turn around and leave. Unfortunately, she almost certainly didn't have enough money in her account to pay for a hotel, and it was too late to call Auntie and beg for money.

More than that, though, she'd let her mother's words call her here. Leaving this soon wouldn't feel right. It would feel like failure. Like quitting before she'd even had a chance to start. She would just have to make do. For now, at least.

The duffel bag slides from her shoulder and drops to the floor. Rei flops to join it as one thought echoes louder than all the others.

Now what?


Now, what, indeed? Rei has three open slots to spend the rest of her day on. Pick as many as you want, and feel free to write in any alternative actions you would like to do.

[] Explore the rest of the Shrine

[] Explore the neighborhood around the Shrine

[] Explore the shopping district

[] Unpack and get things prepared

[] Find somewhere to eat

[] Go to the park

[] Take a nap

[] Write-in





Please also select three hobbies for Rei.

[] Art (+1 aesthetics). Rei's paints and easel were not always easy to keep on her. Fortunately, she enjoyed drawing almost as much.

[] Gardening (+1 aesthetics). Was it the simple elegance of a well-arranged bed of flowers or getting in the dirt that drew her to gardening? Rei never really cared to figure it out.

[] Exercise (+1 athletics). One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats, and a ten km run. Every day. Without fail. Ok, with some fail.

[] Sports (+1 athletics). Back home, a signed Messi jersey hangs on Rei's bedroom wall. And a pair of worn cleats wait in the corner.

[] Chess (+1 academics). Rei won her first regional tournament at fourteen—her first state tournament at sixteen.

[] History (+1 academics). Rei went to an archaeology-themed summer camp as a child. She's loved history ever since.

[] Movies (+1 aplomb). Rei's seen every horror movie released over the past three years in the theater—even the ones she had to sneak in to watch.

[] Camping (+1 aplomb). Rei has found few things that compare to watching the sun rise in some solitary place.

[] Music (+1 allure). A vinyl copy of Abbey Road left by one of her mom's friends changed Rei's life. Or at least her understanding of music.

[] Fashion (+1 allure). There was a certain satisfaction Rei got from finding a cute or weird or elegant outfit from a thrift store.

[] Video Games (+1 awareness). Back home, Rei has an aging gaming computer that she was constantly on the lookout for upgrades for (so long as it's within her budget).

[] Reading (+1 awareness). If Rei had to pick a favorite genre, it would be mystery. Murder mystery.


[AN]
Hello and welcome to a Touhou quest set in an indeterminate time and place in modern-day Japan. We'll be following Rei's journey as she peacefully (more or less) tries to unravel the mysteries of Gensokyo and meets the many strange individuals who call that place home.

Now, what, indeed?

Rei flops back onto her duffel bag. She'd brought toiletries and a week or so worth of clothes with her, though how she'd get clean clothes or wash up without running water was a question that would have to wait until later. For now, she might as well start to unpack. An easy enough thing to say but harder to figure out when she was staring at an almost perfectly featureless room marked out by sliding doors and thin screens over the windows.

Where exactly was the furniture? The bed and dressers and chest of drawers?

Rei rolls gracelessly off her bag, knocking her knees onto the floor as she pushes herself upright. While she had slept in a western bed, Auntie had always preferred a futon that she crammed into a closet during the day.

If mother was anything like that, there should be…

Bare feet glide effortlessly across the smooth, polished wood of the floor, and a sliding door slams open with a triumphant "Gotcha." Inside the closet is not only a futon rolled up into a tidy cylinder, there's also all the bedding: sheets, pillows, and blankets, as well as several decorative pieces. Little bowls and vases. A few long, narrow pieces of cloth decorated with calligraphy. And a single landscape painting of waves crashing against a rocky shore.

She takes out the wall decorations and sets them gently to the side. Next, the futon comes out, which she half tosses and half kicks over to a spot in the center of the room. Finally, all the bedding gets thrown on top of the futon. An eyebrow raises at the lack of a hanger and any place to hang them before she shrugs and dumps her clothes into a pile on the closet floor. It wasn't like there was electricity for an iron to smooth out her clothes, even if she cared enough to make the effort. Besides, without a washer and dryer, she'd have to lug her clothes to a laundromat anyway, so that was probably a lost cause to begin with.

The closet door slams shut, and Rei stares down at the collection of bedding and decorations with a pondering look. The alcove by the door would look nice with the calligraphy banners framing either side. The stark lines of paint would contrast nicely with the pale colors of the decorative vase if she set it as a centerpiece. She looks at the opposite wall illuminated by a ray of afternoon sunlight. That would be a perfect spot for the landscape painting. The natural light would bring out the deep blues and greens of the ocean waves, and it would be a striking image for anyone who walked in—not that she planned to invite anyone to her bedroom.

That just left her with the futon itself. If she set it off to the side, away from the painting and the alcove, the pale white of the sheets would blend into the sliding screens. A definite plus because putting it up and taking it out every day seemed like entirely too much work.

With a plan made, Rei rolls up her sleeves, both metaphorically and literally, and gets to work.


The sun is noticeably lower in the sky by the time she steps back to admire her work. A satisfied nod is interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn as Rei's earlier tiredness returns with a vengeance. She flops onto the futon before slumping over, her head just missing a pillow. A soft grumble escapes her as she pulls a pillow over and then rolls on top of it.

A nice afternoon nap might be just the thing. It was just warm enough in the shrine to be pleasant but not so warm that she couldn't wrap herself in the soft blankets surrounding her.

When she woke up, she'd check out the rest of the shrine, but for now… she'd... zzz…

Rei dreams of water. Water woven from a thousand silvery strands into a coursing river that plunges from snow-capped heights to the lands below. She dreams of a river. A river diverted from its home by geologic process and the hands of man and forced beneath the earth. She dreams of underground lakes. Lakes that stretch out like the flowers budding along a vine. Finally, she dreams of stone. Of vast stretches of limestone that filter and thereby return purity to that which was tainted.

The sun has just touched the horizon when Rei wakes from her nap. She shifts upright, sending the blankets pooling around her waist. The remnants of her dream dance along the tip of her tongue, offering a seemingly nonsensical answer. And yet she remembers reading about how dreams synthesized conscious and subconscious observations from the day and consolidated them with past knowledge.

It takes her a moment to work through the potential connections, but eventually, it clicks. Japan was full of groundwater. Auntie had told her many stories about exploring underground lakes as a kid… and getting drunk at hotsprings as she'd gotten older. It was a bit of a stretch, but there may be a source of fresh water at the shrine after all. Regardless of whether that ended up being true or not, she now had another reason to explore the rest of the shrine.

Rei slips out of the blankets wrapped around her and takes a moment to smooth them out. There was no reason to have spent the time making her temporary bedroom look nice and mar it with an unmade bed. She stops briefly at her closet to put on a fresh pair of socks and then skates gracelessly across the wooden floors and into the hallway.

She knew where the kitchen was. She had opened every cabinet there in her search for electricity only to find a small propane stove. But there were several other rooms she had just poked her head into. The largest of which was right across the hall from her bedroom.

Unlike the door to her bedroom, this door slides back smoothly, almost without a sound, until it clunks to a stop. Rei looks in and frowns in confusion. She could have sworn the room was empty when she'd first peeked in, but that clearly wasn't the case.

I must have been more tired than I'd thought… or more frantic about the lack of electricity.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the door she'd just opened. The walls were completely blank, without a single decoration or bit of calligraphy present. A splash of color set at the far end was the only thing that marred the perfect uniformity.

A fist-sized ball, half crimson and half pure white, sits atop a colorless pillow that rests on a low table fashioned out of the same pale wood as the rest of the shrine. The hairs on the back of Rei's neck prickle as her eyes trace the sinuous line dividing the two colors. It felt like watching a lion prowl behind its enclosure at the zoo. Only there weren't any walls to separate her from…

The screen door slams shut with an audible finality, and Rei takes several steps back. Perhaps she should see what the rest of the shrine had to offer. She could come back to this room later. Much later. In fact, perhaps she should take a look outside.

Rei skates down to the far end of the hallway, where a shaft of sunlight bounces off the floor. The door to the patio opens with the squeak of rusty hinges, but she ignores that in favor of the view that unfolds in front of her.

Gensokyo sprawls out in front of her. A small yard, overgrown by grass and weeds and flanked by rows of imperious-looking trees, gives way to a steep downward slope and the thick green of the forest canopy. Beyond that, the picturesque town of Qensokyo sits, a riot of color and vibrancy. Out even further is the bay, its placid surface burning with the fire of the setting sun. It was beautiful.

I think I understand how Mother could live here now.

For a long moment, she stands there, absorbing the beauty before her, until an idea slowly filters through the emptiness of her thoughts. She'd had a dream about fresh water. She had a small stove. And unless she misremembered, in one of the kitchen cabinets, sitting next to a kettle and some shallow bowls, was a jar filled with a bright green powder. All the parts necessary for a nice, hot cup of tea. She just had to find the water.

Rei heads back inside toward the front door. She steps out to the front porch, slips back into her sneakers, and steps away from the shrine. Unlike the view out back, the front of the shrine is in worse shape. Weeds cover the open space, and what was once probably a smooth layer of sand—like in one of those zen gardens Auntie had taken her to—had clumped up on the edges near the treeline, revealing the bare dirt beneath.

To one side, nestled in an oddly out-of-the-way place beneath a particularly scraggly-looking tree, is a little mini-shrine—a hokora. Drawn by curiosity, she walks a bit closer, but there's not much else besides a few bits of frayed cloth hanging from the awning. It looked like it could use a fresh coat of paint, but then again, so did the shrine itself. Perhaps if she had some time, she could find a home-improvement store…

Rei shakes her head. Now wasn't the time to decide what to do with the shrine. She had some tea to make. And a sunset to savor. Which meant she needed a source of water. Like a well or…

Clack.

She turns to follow the sound that had interrupted her mid-thought. A triumphant grin works across her face as she watches a bamboo shoot slowly fill with a steady stream of water until it tilts over and splashes its water into a stone basin.

Clack.

Moments later, she's back in front of the fountain, kettle in hand. Ten minutes later, her fingers are wrapped around a thick ceramic cup as she sits on the back porch of the shrine and watches as the setting sun bathes the world in crimson.

Eventually, the moment of tranquility is interrupted, not by the disappearance of the sun beneath the waves but by the growl of her stomach. She briefly considers ignoring it in favor of the cool breeze brushing against her face and the soft chirp of insects, but her stomach is insistent. Loud.

With a sigh, Rei admits defeat. She sets her empty cup of tea beside her and stands, sparing a moment to work some feeling back into her legs by stomping her feet. Then she heads back inside, toward the harbinger of her dinner. Her wallet.

A flower of brightly colored bills unfolds as she opens her wallet, which she thumbs through before remembering she'd stashed some coins in her bag. A quick trip to her room retrieves those as well, and she starts to count.

¥43000. A little over $400. More than enough for a few meals. Though if she intended to stay much longer than a week or two, she'd need to find a way to make money. Even Auntie would eventually get tired of wiring her cash.


Since Rei chose to nap instead of doing something more productive, she's not quite ready to sleep for the night. Thus, she has two free timeslots she can use before going to bed.

[] Find somewhere to eat.

[] Explore the neighborhood around the shrine.

[] Get food from a convenience store.

[] Find somewhere to get a drink.

[] Go to the arcade.

[] Call auntie.

[] Explore the town.

[] Go to bed early.

[AN]
I wouldn't worry about money too much. Canonical Reimu was always broke, yet she made do well enough. Instead, think of money as a way to unlock actions (both in earning and spending).

I'd also like feedback on how the quest information is relayed and whether it's additive or subtractive to the reading experience. Currently, I've put them all at the end with a brief explanation (for the ones that passed, at least), but I could add them to the update itself if folks would prefer.

Since I never remember to update character sheets, I'll just put it at the end of chapters instead.