Reisen looked at Chris as she spoke. "Can this kid do anything else, other than me, Cute?"
Mokou looked at her as she spoke. "He can teleport".
Reisen stared at Mokou.
"…He can what?"
Mokou pointed at Chris like she was accusing him of tax fraud.
"He can teleport."
Reisen slowly looked back at the child.
"…That's not a kid skill."
Chris tilted his head.
"I can show."
Before anyone could stop him—
FWIP.
Golden light snapped shut like a curtain, space folding in on itself with a VHS-style flicker, the world stuttering for half a second like an old tape being fast-forwarded.
Static hissed.
A ghostly laugh echoed, warped and tinny, like it came from a broken speaker.
Chris reappeared upside-down on a tree branch, wings fluffed out in surprise.
"…Oh."
He blinked, then let go.
Another FWIP—
he rematerialized gently on the ground, perfectly fine.
Reisen's eye twitched.
"…That wasn't teleportation."
Eirin narrowed her eyes.
"That was localized spatial overwrite."
Kaguya clapped.
"He even came with sound effects!"
Mokou crossed her arms.
"Yeah, he does that."
Reisen slowly crouched down to Chris's level.
"…Kid."
"Yes?"
"Do you know how many Lunarians would get executed for doing that wrong."
Chris thought for a moment.
"…No?"
The Grimoire's eye slid open.
'Estimated count: several thousand.'
Reisen stood back up immediately.
"Nope. I'm not touching that."
Clownpiece, somewhere very far away, sneezed violently.
Eirin exhaled.
"…He's not just a spirit."
Kaguya leaned closer, eyes sparkling.
"He's a problem."
Chris smiled politely.
"I try not to be."
Nidhogg snorted in his head.
'You are failing.'
Thirty minutes later.
Eientei had become a battlefield.
Chris was sprinting down the wooden halls, wings fluttering uselessly as his small feet slapped against the floor, laughter spilling out of him in bright, breathless bursts.
"I almost got you!"
Ahead of him, a rabbit girl with black hair and a grin full of bad ideas vaulted over a porch railing with inhuman ease.
Tewi Inaba did not look back.
"That's what everyone says, kid!"
She kicked a bucket behind her without slowing down.
Chris vanished in a flicker of golden static—
—and reappeared directly in front of it.
The bucket smacked him square in the face.
Bonk.
He fell flat on his back, staring at the sky.
"…Ow."
Tewi skidded to a stop, turned around, and burst out laughing.
"Oh my gods, you're amazing."
Chris sat up, rubbing his head.
"That was cheating."
Tewi crouched in front of him, hands on her knees.
"Welcome to Eientei."
Behind them, chaos followed at a dignified pace.
Reisen marched down the hall, twitching.
"TEWI. STOP TRAUMATIZING THE CHILD."
"I'm not traumatizing him," Tewi called back. "I'm teaching him valuable life lessons!"
Eirin stepped out onto the veranda, arms folded.
"…Why is there a snare trap in my medicine corridor."
Kaguya leaned over the railing beside her.
"I was wondering when that came back."
Mokou, sitting against a pillar with her arms crossed, sighed.
"I leave him alone for half an hour."
Chris suddenly gasped.
"Oh! I forgot!"
He looked straight at Tewi.
"I can do this now."
Before anyone could ask what—
The Grimoire snapped open midair.
The world skipped.
Not fast—
not slow—
just… wrong.
Tewi found herself standing exactly where she had been five seconds ago.
She blinked.
"…Huh?"
Chris was suddenly behind her.
"Tag."
Silence.
Tewi slowly turned her head.
Reisen's jaw dropped.
Eirin adjusted her glasses.
"…Temporal recursion."
Kaguya clapped again.
"He's getting better!"
Mokou groaned.
"Why is everyone encouraging this."
Tewi stared at Chris for a long moment.
Then she grinned wider than ever.
"Ohhh no."
She cracked her knuckles.
"Kid, congratulations."
Chris tilted his head.
"For what?"
"You just volunteered."
The lights flickered.
Every trap in Eientei armed itself at once.
Chris's eyes sparkled.
"…Play more?"
Nidhogg sighed in his head.
'This is why civilizations fall.'
Eirin's gaze lingered on Chris as he chased after Tewi again, laughter echoing down the corridor. After a moment, she turned toward Mokou.
"The child doesn't speak much, does he?" she said, voice calm but observant.
Mokou lifted her teacup and took a slow sip before answering. "Reimu told me Chris is still learning Japanese. That's why he doesn't say full sentences yet."
Eirin hummed softly, eyes narrowing in thought. "That explains the structure. He understands more than he speaks."
She watched as Chris abruptly vanished in a flicker of golden light, reappearing on top of a low lantern.
"Tewi!" he called, pointing. "Found."
Tewi yelped. "Hey! No fair using teleportation and time nonsense!"
Reisen rubbed her temples. "This place is going to need a new wing by tomorrow."
Eirin continued, almost to herself, "His phoneme selection is precise. Polite forms, minimal filler. He isn't speaking like a child learning naturally—he's translating internally."
Mokou glanced at her. "You saying he learned another language first?"
Eirin nodded. "And one that values restraint. That's not instinct. That's training."
Chris hopped down and padded over, holding up his Golden Freddy plush like an offering.
"Tea… good," he said carefully, then added after a pause, "Thank you."
Eirin's expression softened—just a fraction.
"…Yes," she said quietly. "Very trained."
Kaguya turned toward Eirin, eyes bright with curiosity. "So… can the kid use magic?"
Before Eirin could answer, Mokou spoke up, folding her arms. "Kinda. His Grimoire can copy powers, and I think Patchy's gonna start teaching him soon."
That got everyone's attention.
Reisen froze mid-step. "Copy… powers?"
Eirin slowly closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. "A self-recording thaumaturgical medium that adapts to external phenomena…" She opened her eyes again, sharp now. "That's not kinda magic. That's terrifying."
Kaguya clapped her hands once. "Oh, I like him already."
Mokou shot her a look. "Don't encourage it."
Chris, who had been sitting on the floor lining up his plushies, looked up at the word magic.
"Patchy… teach?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Yes," Mokou said. "Eventually."
Chris thought for a moment, then nodded very seriously. "Okay."
Eirin watched that exchange closely. No excitement. No fear. Just acceptance.
"…He treats power like a tool," she said quietly. "Not a prize."
Kaguya leaned closer to her, whispering with a grin. "You're thinking of adopting him, aren't you?"
Eirin didn't look away from Chris. "I'm thinking the world is already too interested in him."
Right on cue, a loud crash echoed from down the hall.
Tewi came flying past, chased by Chris in a burst of golden light and VHS static.
"COME BACK," Chris laughed, pronunciation a mess but the joy unmistakable.
Reisen stared after them. "…We're doomed."
Mokou snorted. "Yeah. But at least it's funny."
And somewhere deep within the Grimoire, Nidhogg stirred, amused.
'Teach him magic,' the entity mused.
'Let us see what he chooses to become.'
1 hour later
Reimu came to pick up Chris
Reimu adjusted her grip on Chris, one arm supporting him as he leaned comfortably against her shoulder. "Thanks for taking care of him, Mokou."
Mokou waved it off with a tired sigh. "No problem. Kid's… a handful, but not a bad one." She paused, then glanced toward the lingering haze in the distance. "So. Who caused this new mist?"
Marisa answered before Reimu could. "An oni named Suika. She got pissed about the long spring last time—said it ruined the flower-viewing festivals. So she made a mist that makes everyone wanna party harder."
Mokou stared at her. "…That's it?"
Reimu nodded, rubbing her temple. "That's it."
Mokou snorted. "An oni throwing a tantrum by turning Gensokyo into one big drinking hall. Yeah, that tracks."
Chris lifted his head at the word oni. "Big… horn?" he asked, hands miming something large.
"Yeah," Marisa said with a grin. "Big horn. Small body. Drinks like the world's ending."
Chris thought about that very seriously. "Sounds… noisy."
Reimu huffed a small laugh despite herself. "You have no idea."
She looked down at him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. He was already calmer now, the wild energy from Eientei long burned off, eyelids heavy but still alert.
Mokou noticed the way Chris stayed close to Reimu, how naturally he leaned into her. "He's attached," she said plainly.
Reimu stiffened for half a second, then relaxed. "He needs stability."
"That's not what I meant," Mokou replied. "He chose you."
Chris, oblivious to the weight of the words, tugged lightly at Reimu's sleeve. "Home?"
Reimu didn't hesitate. "Yeah. We're going home."
Marisa stretched, slinging her broom over her shoulder. "Guess that means next stop is finding Suika and telling her to knock it off."
Mokou cracked her knuckles. "Want backup?"
Reimu shook her head. "We've handled oni before."
Chris yawned, resting his head fully against Reimu now. His wings fluttered once, then settled.
As they turned to leave, Mokou watched them go—shrine maiden, magician, and a strange little spirit wrapped in destiny far too big for his small frame.
"…Good luck," she muttered. "You're gonna need it."
Meanwhile, far from the lingering mist—
Patchouli dipped her quill once more and finished the last line of a complex magic circle etched into the page. "With this, the Setsubun barrier should hold," she said flatly. "It won't stop an oni forever, but it'll keep them from wandering where they shouldn't."
The chalk sigils beside her glowed faintly, then settled into dormancy.
Across the table, Akyuu tied off her scroll with practiced precision. The title written along its edge was neat and deliberate:
Touhou 7.5: Immaterial and Missing Power
She set it aside, satisfied. "This incident has been fully recorded."
Patchouli glanced at her over the rim of her teacup. "I've always wondered," she said. "What exactly qualifies as an event in your records?"
Akyuu smiled—small, knowing, and just a little tired. "An event is when Gensokyo changes," she replied. "Not loudly. Not always permanently. But enough that the world can't pretend it didn't happen."
She tapped the scroll lightly. "An oni disrupting the balance, a shrine maiden restoring it, and a child who shouldn't exist yet already does."
Patchouli's gaze drifted, uncharacteristically thoughtful. "…So this counts."
"Yes," Akyuu said simply. "Because from this point on, things will no longer unfold the way they did before."
Patchouli closed her book with a soft thump. "Tch. Figures."
Somewhere beyond the mansion walls, the mist thinned, laughter echoed, and Gensokyo quietly adjusted itself—just enough for history to notice.
Patchouli stared at her.
"…That's it?"
Akyuu nodded, utterly serious. "Yes."
Patchouli pinched the bridge of her nose. "An oni manipulating density, half of Gensokyo getting drunk out of their minds, reality literally losing its grip, and that's not big enough?"
Akyuu tilted her head. "No one died. The balance wasn't fundamentally rewritten. And the Hakurei Shrine didn't collapse."
Patchouli paused, then clicked her tongue. "Damn reasonable standards."
Akyuu smiled faintly. "A .5 incident is what happens when Gensokyo hiccups instead of choking."
Patchouli leaned back in her chair, eyes half-lidded. "So Scarlet Mist was a cough, Eternal Night was a fever, and this—"
"—was a hangover," Akyuu finished.
For a moment, the library was quiet.
Patchouli sighed. "I hate that I can't argue with that."
Akyuu carefully placed the scroll alongside the others. The shelf adjusted itself, making room—as if it already knew it belonged there.
Outside, laughter faded, the last traces of mist dissolved, and Gensokyo moved on.
As it always did.
But now, with one more footnote added to history.
The next few days passed quietly.
Well—quiet by Gensokyo standards.
Eientei started visiting the Hakurei Shrine more often. At first it was under the excuse of "checking on things," then "bringing medicine," and eventually it became obvious what the real reason was.
Chris.
Eirin would sit properly on the veranda, sipping tea and pretending not to watch him out of the corner of her eye. Kaguya, on the other hand, made no such effort—she praised him openly, declared him "precious," and once attempted to claim him as a national treasure of the Moon before Eirin dragged her away by the sleeve. Reisen tried to maintain discipline, failed within five minutes, and ended up letting Chris braid her hair.
Reimu pretended not to notice how often they showed up.
As if Ran visiting with Chen so the two could play together wasn't already enough. Chen adored him openly, following him around like a shadow while Ran watched with the expression of someone who was this close to asking if adoption paperwork existed in Gensokyo.
And then there was Suika.
[Insert image of Suika]
She appeared whenever she felt like it—usually with alcohol, always with noise, and somehow always gentle when it came to Chris. She let him sit on her head, shrank herself so he could tug her horn, and loudly proclaimed him the "strongest little guy" she'd ever met.
Yukari, inevitably, followed.
She lounged beneath the shrine trees, teased Reimu mercilessly, offered Chris sweets he absolutely should not have had, and watched the Grimoire with eyes that held far too much understanding. Marisa, of course, was constant—dropping by daily, teaching Chris things Reimu had to immediately un-teach, and stealing snacks while pretending she wasn't.
It became clear very quickly that Reimu's normal, peaceful days were over.
And honestly?
She didn't mind.
The shrine was louder now. Messier. Warmer. There was laughter, tea that ran out too fast, footsteps that didn't fade when evening came. Chris slept curled against her side most nights, wings twitching faintly, clutching either his plush or her sleeve.
Even the Grimoire—still unsettling, still watching—became something she simply… lived with. It floated quietly most of the time, reacted when Chris laughed, and only made her uneasy when she remembered what it was.
Reimu stared up at the sky one evening, shrine full of voices behind her, and exhaled.
Gensokyo was strange.
But for now—
It felt alive.
One thing Reimu—and eventually everyone—started to notice about Chris was that he flinched.
A lot.
At first, it was easy to miss.
Reimu would pull out her purification needles and feel a small weight press against her side as Chris stiffened, wings drawing in just a little. The first time, she assumed it was just the sudden movement.
Then Youmu visited.
She greeted them like normal, hand on her sword. The moment the blade slid free of its sheath, there was a sharp, quiet sound—Chris inhaled and ducked on instinct, hands coming up as if to protect his head.
The sword never came near him.
But the reaction was immediate.
After that, it became impossible not to see.
Kitchen knives. Arrowheads. Sakuya's throwing knives appearing midair. Even broken glass catching the light. Every time something sharp enough to cut flesh was revealed, Chris reacted the same way—shoulders tensing, eyes flicking toward it, body bracing for pain that never came.
Not fear like a child startled by danger.
Fear like someone who remembered it.
The mood shifted.
Reimu stopped pulling out her needles around him. She didn't say anything—she just noticed that she kept them tucked away until he wasn't nearby. Youmu began announcing herself before drawing her blade, awkward and apologetic in a way that made no sense unless you knew why.
Even Marisa, loud and careless as she was, stopped tossing sharp junk around the shrine.
No one said it out loud at first.
But the thought sat heavy in the air.
They all knew Chris was a spirit.
They all knew he was already dead.
And reactions like that didn't come from imagination.
They came from experience.
Reimu watched him one evening as he sat on the engawa, swinging his legs, expression calm again like nothing had happened. She felt something tighten in her chest—an anger she didn't fully understand yet.
Whatever had happened to him before he arrived in Gensokyo—
It had involved pain.
And blades.
And far too much of both.
Patchouli adjusted her hat as she looked from Chris to Reimu, her expression unusually careful.
"Does he have aichmophobia?"
Reimu blinked, then looked back at her. "What?"
Patchouli set her book down, fingers resting on the cover as if grounding herself. "It's a fear response—specifically to sharp objects. Knives, blades, needles. Not a general fear. Not panic." Her eyes flicked briefly to Chris, who was quietly lining up his plushies on the tatami. "A conditioned reaction."
Reimu frowned. "You're saying he's scared of them?"
Patchouli shook her head. "No. Fear is messy. This is… precise." She paused, choosing her words. "It's the kind of reflex you see when the body remembers something the mind refuses to surface."
Reimu's grip tightened on her sleeve.
Patchouli continued, voice calm but heavy. "Most beings with that response didn't see blades. They were hurt by them. Repeatedly. Often when they couldn't escape."
Reimu didn't answer right away.
She looked at Chris again—how relaxed he seemed now, how carefully he avoided looking at Sakuya's knives even when she made them vanish. How his wings always tucked in whenever something sharp was nearby, like muscle memory taking over.
"…He never said anything," Reimu finally muttered.
Patchouli gave a small, humorless smile. "He wouldn't. Trauma like that doesn't sit in language. Especially not in a soul that's already fragmented."
Reimu's jaw clenched. "So what, it's permanent?"
"No," Patchouli said. "But it won't disappear just because he's safe now." She glanced back at Chris, softer this time. "It fades when the soul learns—slowly—that pain is no longer guaranteed."
Reimu exhaled, long and unsteady.
Then she stood, walked over, and sat beside Chris. She didn't say anything—just gently placed herself between him and the table where a knife had been left earlier, subtly blocking his view.
Patchouli noticed.
She didn't comment.
Some spells weren't written in grimoires.
Few hour's later
Eirin set her teacup down with a soft clink, her sharp eyes lingering on the barrier talisman Reimu had laid out earlier.
"So the Great Hakurei Barrier will block any direct attack."
Reimu nodded, sipping her tea while Chris sat quietly on her lap, half-asleep and clutching his plush.
"Yes. Anything that tries to force its way in from the outside gets rejected outright. Lunar technology, divine interference, even large-scale spell formulas—none of it crosses without my permission."
Eirin's lips curved into a thin, thoughtful smile. "That simplifies things. It means the Lunarians can't abduct Reisen to conscript her into another war."
Chris shifted slightly at the word war, wings twitching before settling again. Reimu absently adjusted her grip, grounding him.
Kaguya, who had been scribbling furiously on a scroll, froze.
She stared at the page.
Then, with exaggerated seriousness, she drew a thick line through the title:
Plan A: Fake Moon
She sighed dramatically. "Shame. It was a very elegant plan."
Reimu didn't even look. "It involved dropping a false celestial body over Gensokyo."
"It was temporary," Kaguya protested.
Eirin pinched the bridge of her nose. "It involved rewriting orbital mechanics."
"And fireworks," Kaguya added.
Reimu finally glanced over, unimpressed. "You are never allowed near my barrier design notes."
Chris looked up at Kaguya, tilted his head, and asked in clearer Japanese than before,
"Fake… moon?"
Kaguya brightened instantly. "See? He's interested!"
Eirin deadpanned. "No, Princess. He's confused."
Chris nodded. "Confused."
Reimu sighed, but there was a faint smile at the corner of her mouth.
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy