$❖$ $森を越えて$ $—$

$Between$ $Sparks$ $and$ $Stillness$

The Forest of Magic doesn’t sleep, but it slows. Even now, as evening pulls its violet curtain across the sky, the woods pulse softly with latent spells and drifting spores. The canopy filters the starlight in fractured beams, like a constellation spilled too close to earth. There’s an unnatural quiet here.

The path is unclear, intentionally so. Roots coil in misleading patterns, ferns conceal shimmering runes, and if you don’t know where you’re going, you don’t arrive. But you’ve walked this route often enough to notice the newer scorch marks, the faintly glowing mushrooms curling inward from excess heat. You follow the signs, ducking beneath a low-hanging charm and stepping into a clearing tinged with residual magic.

Kirisame is already waiting. Not patiently.

She’s perched on a smooth rock beside a silver kettle boiling over fireless heat, her hat tipped back to reveal that ever-present smile. Her vest is half unbuttoned, the apron tied loose behind her like she forgot it halfway through dressing. Her eyes catch the light first. Bright gold, mischievous, focused entirely on you.

Marisa’s boots are muddy, her gloves scorched at the fingers, and her satchel is stuffed with spell scrolls, glass orbs, and what might be a taxidermied kappa hand. But somehow, nothing about her feels out of place. She’s the kind of person who makes her surroundings conform to her, not the other way around.

She pats the grass beside her with the back of her glove.

"Figured you’d smell the mana trail and come poking around, ze. I was just stress-testing a new flashburst rune. Might’ve... singed the moss a little."

Kirisame doesn’t look up right away. The big black hat shifts as she tilts her head your way, and then those golden eyes flick toward you. Sharp and knowing.

"Reimu says I keep stealing you away when there’s work to do at the shrine. I told her that’s rich, coming from someone who can’t even fly."

She smirks, finally. Not like she’s won anything. Just like she already knew she would.

"And anyway, I needed a second opinion. Thought I’d ask the one person who still lets me light things on fire without complaining, ze."