The last time I’d felt like this, Aya was guiding me to that cursed birthday party. It’s a licking flame that scours the body and rips off the flesh from the muscle and from the bone, and what remains is nothing but a blood-red seething rage. My hand bleeds and white knots threaten to pop, a battalion of faceless, paper-like mikos following me into the cataclysm of pink—Satori’s words echo, the lightning a mirror of Douji’s—, yet nothing constrains me as I charge towards Yukari like an arrow, black hair swaying as the mikos protect me with charms and small, wordless prayers. Against the destructive might of Koutei, nothing of this would’ve protected me, but Yukari is just a woman whose greatest strength has been stripped down, her eyes wide as I cross the threshold of her thunderbolts, teeth clenched and moving the Onikirimaru to meet sacred wood—

—An attack from the past swerves her attention away from me, Hana popping from absolutely nowhere with just as much bloodlust as what I know spews in waves from me. Danmaku pours from Hakurei Spheres, Yukari having to dodge everything now that her Gap is nowhere to be found. A karmic loss, which blisters through my veins as both acute frustration and celebration.

I’m on her not a second after Hana, Gohei slamming against the blade. Many more come, a hundred attacks filled with youthful vigor and a personal vendetta, the Yakumo woman trembling with transferring force. The Gap would’ve cushioned it all, made it easier. Blemished golden hair bounces as the ancient Youkai moves against the force of two striking Goheis, somehow keeping herself alive and mostly unharmed despite the traveling force—has it to do with Douji’s power…?—, blankets of purple thunderbolts tumbling to deafening pulses that light up the Underground, Danmaku licking off her skin as it grazes, blessed needles dodged by centimeters.

Yukari is an old Youkai. This is not the first time she’s dueled on the ropes—of the little Suzu taught me of history, the Sengoku period was much worse—, and her powers go beyond the Gap.

I’ll make sure it’s the last. Anon asked it.

… But the way things are going now is not ideal. She’s doing far too well; her vitality recovered, and the blessings planted by Hana, aimed to cripple Youkai, killed by Douji’s power. Something gotta give soon, otherwise… Thunderbolts echo through the hollowed tree of purple lightning, and I and Hana dodge away from the onslaught of electricity. “Hana!” I yell, unable to see her amidst the chaotic kaleidoscope.

“I’m here!” She hushes, popping to my side from thin air, sharp eyes where Yukari was. Around us, hundreds of Hakurei miko ready for battle. “… We gotta aim for the sword, she’s using Kasen-nee’s power somehow—she understands our combat patterns, maybe…?” For whatever reason, Hana smirked at the words about aiming for the sword. It was a smile of nostalgia. It faded as her eyes sharpened and sweat was wiped from her brow. “You cannot Float.” Straightforward words.

I picture Chen, suffering and pale as marble; Anon with eyes of misery—eyes I inflicted once—, and this heart screams at the haunting sound of tolling bells. My hand around the Gohei bleeds. “I cannot,” purple lightning roars as if a living thing, nerves blistering on the surface. A full second has passed; where is Yukari…? “We have to change how we attack, then?” The nature of Kasen’s new—old?—power eludes me, so I leave it to Hana to figure things out.

Hana grimaced. “… Youkai are weak to mental attacks.” She whispers, then widens her eyes. “Mother, I think I have a plan—”

A purple blur appears from a mass of thunderbolts snapping behind her, red flashes.

I move without hesitation, exploding past Hana and battering the Gohei against the crimson blade—

—No sound of iron; the blur dissipated as if a cloud.

Hana had moved out of the way, her Gohei with streaks of blue ready for defense, dodging straight into the real red blade piercing through the liquified electricity. She’d manipulated these thunderbolts to resemble her; the understanding echoed…

Then, a facet of this power sprang against my will, twenty paper-like mikos soaring forward and engulfing themselves in flames, sacrificing themselves as their Gohei piled into the lashing red blade, which cut them like the flaming origami they were, Yukari’s eyes widening at being stopped by nothing yet recovering as the powerful Youkai she is. By then, Hana had already twisted and aimed a slam against her head, meeting only crimson steel. My body hissed. An exchange half a second long.

These mikos seem to answer as much to Hana as they answer to me.

Using that, no wonder she killed a dragon…

Hana was thrown back, body recovering and ready to pounce onto Yukari once more—

“—Before I kill you today, mikos,” any pretense of friendship she had in the past vanished; only hatred seeped into her voice and intonation. “I was intending on giving a gift… The reveal of delightful secrets. Hana-chan’s secrets~”

… Secrets?