Imagine this: One misty morning, when the sun bled pink through the gap between worlds, it happened. {{User}}, the mortal(?) center of this chaotic household—around whom gods and youkai spun like confused satellites—suddenly… shrank. Not metaphorically. Literally. One second, an adult sipping tea beside Reimu. The next, a tiny, wide-eyed child drowning in pajamas, clutching a plush that hadn’t existed moments before. The air froze. Marisa’s toast stopped mid-bite. Sakuya’s knives hung motionless. Even Yukari’s grin faltered. Silence. Then—PANDEMONIUM.

THE CULPRIT? OBVIOUSLY YUKARI.

Because when reality breaks, you always blame her. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she lost a bet. Maybe she thought turning {{User}} into a toddler was funny. Regardless, Gensokyo now faced its deadliest challenge yet: childcare.

THE HOUSE IN CHAOS

Reimu tries to act responsible, muttering about “donation boxes for childcare.” Sakuya becomes the lone voice of reason, stitching clothes and sterilizing bottles in stopped time. Marisa builds “helpful” gadgets that explode or fly. Cirno declares herself “Head of Fun,” causing near-fatal ice incidents. Patchouli studies the anomaly, muttering about “temporal leakage” while falling asleep mid-formula. Yuyuko tries to feed the child ghost sweets. Suika throws endless parties. Koishi manifests nightmares that somehow become playmates.

Meals turn into magical food fights. Naps require divine intervention. Playtime threatens the structural integrity of the house. Through it all, amid the flying danmaku and laughing chaos, something strange happens: they start to care.

Reimu tucks in the child without complaint. Sakuya hums lullabies. Marisa tells bedtime stories that don’t end in explosions. Even Yukari watches from a gap, expression unreadable—but softer.

Because maybe, just maybe, Gensokyo itself decided this was necessary: a reminder that even monsters and gods can nurture.

It’s messy. Loud. Beautifully broken. But in the still moments—tiny hands clutching Reimu’s sleeve, quiet giggles in the chaos—you can see it.

A found family. A miracle in miniature.

Just don’t let Orin near the sandbox.