He stood up, dusted off his knees, and turned to face the two watching women. His expression was its usual neutral mask, but there was a faint gleam of satisfaction in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Done," he announced, his voice rough from disuse and singing.
Marisa practically blurred from her spot, materializing at his side in a whirl of black and white. "WOW! THAT'S how you make stuff?!" she yelled, her voice cracking with excitement. "The mana, it was dancing around you! Like it was enjoying it!"
Nowa waved a dismissive hand. "Chillax. It's only simple stuff." He picked up the finished roomba and offered it to her. "Here. A promise is a promise."
Marisa took it as if receiving a holy relic, her eyes wide and starry. "THANK YOU, ZE! YOU'RE THE BEST!" She immediately began turning it over in her hands, examining every inch of the runework.
His gaze then shifted to Reimu, who had observed the entire exchange. "Well," he said, cutting to the heart of the matter. "What's the plan for today?"
"Shopping," Reimu replied, her tone its familiar deadpan. But her eyes, as they flickered from the awestruck to the impossibly crafted object in Marisa's hands, held a hint of something rare, unguarded, and the unmistakable awe.
"Right after I put my plate away and you clean your stuff," Reimu said, gesturing towards his stuff on the clearing. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed for the kitchen.
Nowa responded with a lazy, two-fingered salute to her retreating back. "Sure." He gathered the anvil, cooler, and heater, the items vanishing into his rune pouch with soft, spatial distortions. By the time Reimu returned, the clearing was clean, save for the impression his anvil had left in the ground.
Marisa remained utterly captivated, turning the rune roomba over in her hands as if deciphering an ancient text.
A slow, dry chuckle escaped Nowa's lips as he watched her. "Right." He then shifted his gaze to Reimu, who stood with her arms crossed, observing them. "A shopping tour trip," he said, the cynicism in his voice was familiar. "Surely nothing goes wrong."
Reimu sighed. "Don't get lost," though the corner of her mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile. It was gone as quickly as it appeared. "And I still need to confirm those conjured coins you donated."
"Hey! Are we going or what?!" Marisa interjected, finally looking up, her eyes gleaming with plans. "I call dibs on demonstrating this beauty in the village! I'll be the talk of the town!"
"You'll be chased out of town for disturbing the peace with a possessed cleaning disk," Reimu countered, though her protest was noticeably half-hearted. Her focus returned to Nowa, her expression shifted to neutral. "Before we go there, the Human Village isn't like your multiverse. There are rules. Normies. They startle easily."
Nowa met her gaze. "So, you want me to play nice? No reality editing, no spontaneously conjuring gold in the town square and crashing the local economy."
"Basically," Reimu said with a nod. "Just… be a guy. A weird, foreign guy, but just a guy. Can you handle that?"
"Sure. Easy enough," Nowa replied. He inserted his hands into his coat's pockets. "Lead da way."
Marisa whooped, shoving the roomba securely into her apron's pocket that got violated as it did not fit, but she shoved it anyway. "Finally! Alright, stick with me, Ze! I'll show you the quickest route!" She kicked off with her magical broom into the air, hovering a few feet off the ground.
Reimu simply began walking down the stone path that led away from the shrine. "We're walking, Marisa. The whole point is not to cause a scene."
Nowa fell into step beside Reimu, his hands still buried in his pockets. His long coat swayed gently with his stride. He cast a glance at the floating magician. "You heard da boss, Mushroom Kid. Park the rocket."
Marisa groaned dramatically but landed, dragging her broom behind her. "You guys are no fun. This'll take forever."
The trio walked down the path, the Hakurei Shrine shrinking behind them. The dense, misty trees of the Forest of Magic loomed on either side. Nowa's eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned the environment, the way light filtered through the canopy, the subtle, unnatural hues of the flora, and the maddeningly confusing pathways that supposedly led to Reimu's shrine.
"So," Nowa began, his voice cutting through the quiet. "This 'Human Village.' What's the primary export? Besides startled 'normies'?"
"Trouble, mostly," Reimu deadpanned. "And the occasional youkai incident."
'Not sure what "youkai" is supposed to mean, Ribbon. I'm a newbie here. No idea how things run. I'll just default to what I know.' He thought. "Is it well-populated?"
"Not in terms of human count," Reimu replied, her focus on the path ahead. "Youkai, fairies, many other beings run this place."
'Not much? That's rather—' He caught the thought before it could fully form. There was no point concerning himself. Instead, "How do you repopulate? Surely there are men here. It's not purely women, is it?"
Reimu stopped. She turned, arms crossing over her chest, one eyebrow arched. "What kind of question is that? Of course there are men. You're looking at one. Or did you miss the part where you have a beard shadow and talk like a dock worker?"
Nowa halted, his gaze flicking to a side path, his brows furrowing. 'I don't even have beard shadow, you piece of shit.'
Then, softer, with genuine curiosity. "Why? Did something give you the idea this place was some kind of... women-only sanctuary?"
'It just feels so wrong to be here. I need to shoot myself dead... But I won't. Not yet. Not until this is over.' He thought.
Marisa snorted, nearly tripping. "Pfft—dock worker! Reimu, that's rich!" She slung an arm around Nowa's forearm with zero regard for personal space, grinning up at him. "Don't worry, Old-timer. We got guys. They're just boring. All the fun stuff happens with us ladies, see? You're learning fast!"
Her voice dropped, still buzzing with energy. "But yeah, Human Village has plenty of dudes. Farmers, merchants, the usual. They just don't go picking fights with youkai or chasing after weirdos like us. Smart of 'em, really."
"Noted." The word was flat, belied by his internal thought, 'Not giving a single fuck'.
Reimu held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Her eyes carried something heavier than annoyance, a flicker of concern. Their plan was fraying at the edges, and she could feel it. She turned and continued walking.
"We still have distance to cover."
"Sure!" Marisa tugged Nowa forward. "Come on! Don't get too rusty~"
Nowa let out an exaggerated sigh. "Sure, sure." He fell into step behind her. "So if the men are all boring, how's that supposed to work long-term? Mitosis? No men needed?" He looked between them. "Or do you keep a few around for, ah pardon my word. To Fuck with."
Both women stopped dead. A silence stretched between them. Reimu's cheeks flushed. Marisa's jaw dropped.
Then, "W-what?!" they said in unison.
Another silence stretched between them, as he noted it. 'No follow up? They should be colder or more dismissive at the joke. But that's for modern women, not this kind of story.'
He scoffed to himself. 'Looks like this goddamn story path is written by someone who actually understands how women react in this kind of fantasy settings. Huh. Maybe this author isn't fucking one of those virgin writers.'
A beat passed.
'But still… Wow… I see it now, that shitty God is just bias then… there are already men but me? Fucking bitch. I might kill this thing later. Wouldn't be the first pantheons I've put down.' Nowa let out a weary sigh. 'I really don't want to kill another one… I'll spare this moron, for now. Until I get an answer on the real Dragon God or whatever.'
He waved a dismissive hand, a forced smirk tugging at his lips. "It's just a joke. Forget about it."
Reimu didn't respond immediately. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, not suspicious or accusing. Something else. Then she turned and continued down the path without a word.
Marisa's grin softened. She finally let go of his arm. After a brief pause, she bumped his side lightly with her shoulder, a small, wordless thing. Then she skipped ahead, her voice returning to its usual brightness.
"But hey! We also have great dango!" She spun to walk backward in front of them, attempting to change the subject. "And the bookstore has some cool, if outdated, magic texts. And the bakery. Oh, you're gonna love the bakery, Old-timer!"
Reimu's cheeks still held a faint flush, but her voice returned to its familiar deadpan. "Just... don't make jokes like that in the village. People will talk."
"Got it. Just sticking to default, 'Sup peps, I'm your new totally normal neighbor' script." Nowa's smirk lingered, but the usual sharp edge had softened to dry amusement. He glanced at Marisa. "Any bread is good bread, so long as it's good. That's fine by me."
Reimu glanced over, her sharp eyes catching the slight but undeniable softening in his tone. A small, unconscious tug of a smile touched her own lips before she faced forward again. Marisa beamed a triumphant grin, as if she'd just won a secret victory.
"Plus," Nowa added, raising a single finger briefly to emphasize the point before retracting his hand back into his pocket. "Even better if it's warm."
They were still a good distance from the village outskirts when a sharp SNAP-CLICK of a camera shutter broke the peaceful ambiance. All three of them stopped in unison, their heads turning as one towards the source of the sound: a conspicuously trembling bush by the side of the path, from which a pair of familiar black tengu wings and the distinct lens of a camera were clearly visible.
Reimu's shoulders slump in immediate recognition and exasperation. "...Aya."
The bush twitched violently. In a blur of black feathers and white acceleration, Aya Shameimaru was suddenly in front of them, having left her hiding spot and dropped to her knees in a posture of desperate begging.
"Sorry! I can't help it!" she pleaded, sweat visibly beading on her forehead. "He's a once-in-a-millennium scoop! The rumors are flying, but I've got the real thing right here!" She gestured frantically towards a confused Nowa. "And I didn't publish a single word about what happened yesterday! I swear!"
Reimu pinched the bridge of her nose, a long-suffering sigh hissing through her teeth. "I warned you what would happen if you did."
"I know! Which is why I didn't! But you can't expect me to just ignore this!" Aya's eyes were wide, darting between Reimu's grim face and Nowa's impassive one. "A mysterious, powerful man living at the Hakurei Shrine? The Dragon God's manifestation? It's the story of a lifetime!"
Marisa, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. "Heh. Told you you'd be famous, Ze."
Nowa watched the scene unfold, his head tilted slightly. He observed the terrified tengu, the irritated miko, and the gleeful magician. The cynical part of him saw a security breach. The part of him that was slowly re-engaging saw... a situation.
He finally spoke, his voice calm and low, cutting through Aya's panic. "So. You're the local information broker."
Aya flinched, looking up at him. "I-I am a purveyor of truth for the public! A journalist!"
"Same thing," Nowa said with a dismissive hand wave. He glanced at Reimu. "You want me to be 'just a guy.' But it seems the narrative script has other ideas." He glanced at the manuscript—AT YOU—before his gaze returned to Aya. "You want your story? Then we make a deal. You don't get a scoop. You get... an exclusive, guided introduction. On our terms. You write what we tell you to write. You become part of the cover story, not the one breaking it."
Aya's panic slowly transformed into the keen focus of sensing an opportunity. "An... introduction?"
Nowa smirked, that faint, less-cynical one again. "Yeps. 'Reclusive Multiversal Artisan Visits Local Bakery.' You can take pictures of me buying bread or whatever I do. Maybe even a quote about the quality of it. But you do it my way. Or," he added, his tone dropping a single, significant degree, "your camera becomes a very, very expensive paperweight."
Aya looked from Nowa's unblinking eyes to Reimu's crossed arms, and then to Marisa's encouraging thumbs-up. She swallowed hard, then nodded rapidly. "An exclusive guided introduction! Right! Understood!"
Reimu let out another sigh, but this one was laced with a grudging respect. "Fine. But she's your responsibility, Beckitzer."
"Lead the way, journalist," Nowa said, gesturing forward. "And try to look less like you're about to be exterminated."
Aya shot to her feet, instantly transforming from a begging into a professional, if overly eager, member of the press corps. She brushed the dirt from her knees, her camera held at the ready. "An exclusive introduction! Right! So, how would you like to be portrayed? 'Mysterious Benefactor'? 'Scholar of the Outer Worlds'?"
"Try 'Annoyed Tourist who wants bread'," Nowa deadpanned, resuming his walk down the path. "Keep it simple. The less exciting you make it sound, the more believable it'll be."
Reimu fell into step beside him, her voice low meant only for his ears. "'Reclusive Artisan'? You're laying it on a bit thick."
"Gotta give her something to chew on that isn't the truth," he replied just as quietly. "A boring truth is easier to control than an exciting lie."
As the walls of the Human Village came into proper view, revealing the buildings inside, Aya buzzed around them, framing shots with her hands. "Okay, so for the first shot, maybe a candid walk into the market? Natural lighting, a sense of arrival..."
Marisa snickered. "This is better than I hoped! We got our own personal paparazzi!"
They entered the gate. The sight of the Hakurei Maiden, the ordinary magician, a bewilderingly dressed outsider, and the infamous Tengu reporter all walking together did not go unnoticed. Heads turned to see Nowa and they all felt fear, stumbling for a nano of a second before it vanished. Whispers began to spread like ripples in a pond.
Aya, true to her nature, immediately started shouting to the growing audience. "That's right, folks! An exclusive for the Bunbunmaru! A visiting artisan from... from distant lands has come to experience the humble wonders of our Human Village! Pay no mind to the rumors, it's all a cultural exchange!"
Nowa leaned towards Reimu, his expression utterly flat. "Can this still be called 'not causing a scene'?"
Reimu's eyes twitched. "This is your fault. Your 'managed narrative' is a one-woman circus."
"Every good cover story needs a little noise to hide the signal, and the occasional desperate offer." Nowa replied, his eyes already scanning the storefronts.
The sky was beginning to turn, clouds gathering at the edges, though the sun still shone for now.
He noticed a man beside a store staring at him. Nowa stared back, noting the stillness, the wrongness that hung around the figure like a glitch in a paused video. An anomaly aura. Something he knew from his past Crusade.
Neither Reimu nor Marisa seemed to notice.
He held the man's gaze for a beat longer, then shrugged it off. 'Not my problem.'
He turned away, scanning the next row of shops. One thing was for sure: he stood out like a black hole in a starfield. But the primary objective remained. The simple task of buying bread had just acquired a very, very loud soundtrack.