Mystia's Magic Sand

[The fanfiction section of Maidens of the Kaleidoscope has really picked up in activity lately. Apart from people posting their stories to be read, appreciated, and critiqued, the Librarians there have set up a Weekly Writing Challenge - a theme is given, and you have a week to complete a story based on that theme. The following story was my submission to the theme, "In this week's writing challenge, you must involve one of the Touhou characters setting up a "medical" "practice". It can be hypnoregressive therapy at Koishi's hands, THC-certified products sold in the SDM, you name it! (And because this is a question that's bound to pop up: Yes, Eirin's canon medical practice is fair game, so long as you do it well." I thought Eirin would have to sit out for this one, and turned again to Team ⑨.]

Mystia sat by her grilled eel stand, leaning against it dejectedly one late summer night, looking up at the stars and trying to invent her own constellations. As usual around this time of night, Wriggle came by to visit her.

“Hey, Mystia,” Wriggle greeted her warmly, then paused, looking at her a moment. “What's the matter? You seem down.”

“I am down,” grumbled Mystia. “I blinded eight people tonight, so you'd think I'd be in a good mood. But you're the first person I've seen tonight.”

“Huh, that's weird. You think they might've gotten lost?”

“Nah, they didn't. Normally when they do, you hear them get attacked by youkai, crying out in terror, at some point in the night. It's pretty hilarious. No, Alice and Marisa probably got to them before I did.”

“Marisa and Alice are killing people?”

“What? No. They're curing their blindness. I've got no business. You think people would eat this stuff if it wasn't to cure blindness? Forget it. I'm going to have to close up shop.” Mystia sighed.

Wriggle thought about the situation a moment, hoping to offer a suggestion that could cheer her friend up. “Well,” she thought out loud. “You know how to do other things, right?”

“You're right.” Mystia considered, nodding. “There has to be another way to make money off of people by blinding them.”

“You could just rob them. They can't see you.” Wriggle shrugged.

Mystia looked appalled. “Touch one of those things? Are you kidding me? Never.”

“Hm. Do you know any magic?”

Mystia laughed wryly. “Apart from blinding people, I can dance, and that's really about it.”

“Well, you also got pretty good merchant sense,” Wriggle offered. “You could open up a shop somewhere. Of course you'd have to consider where, and what you'd sell, who would buy it. And you couldn't really blind people. Or, maybe you could, after they bought something. If you really wanted to.”

Mystia didn't appear to be listening. She was staring at a point a few yards behind Wriggle, an idea congealing.

“Wriggle … I think I know what to do. OK. You have to swear not to tell anyone this, but the sand of the shores of the Misty Lake has magical properties.”

Wriggle started back a little, surprised. “What? I never heard that.”

Mystia paused. “Well, actually it's not true. But it doesn't matter. We can sell it as magic sand, tell people it's a secret where it's from.”

An owl hooted. “What?” said Wriggle at last.

“We tell people it's magic sand, and that it can do all kinds of things like … like cure headaches and stomach aches, and heartburn, and fevers and … yeah. Anything.”

“Hang on a moment.” Wriggle cut in. “How- Why magic sand? Won't people find out it's not magic?”

Mystia chuckled. “Are you kidding? You think what Marisa and Alice do is something special? I'll tell you what – almost all magic is just making someone think you used magic on them.”

“Eh? Really?” Wriggled laughed. “Wow. Anyone could do it.”

“You know it. And if one or two people say it doesn't work, we'll just tell 'em they didn't use it right. Ha!”

Mystia stood up, her eyes gleaming with joy. “Alright, Wriggle. Guess we're going to the lake.


2.

Wriggle and Mystia spent the better part of the night on the shores of the Misty Lake, a half-moon lighting their work, as they scooped handfuls of sand, one by one, into little cloth swatches of brown cloth, which they'd bind up with string.

The following evening, Wriggle and Mystia covered the unused eel grill with a cloth and arranged the little pouches of sand on it. There were forty in all. While they waited for customers, Mystia practiced dancing, and Wriggle watched her.

About two hours later, Rinnosuke stopped by. Mystia was dancing, and Wriggle sat with her back to him. Mystia waved to him happily, and ended in a half-hearted split. Wriggle clapped gleefully.

“Well, what brings you by here?” Mystia asked. “Eyeing up the competition?”

Rinnosuke looked at the little cloth bags, then looked at her. “No. I don't sell eel. I heard you're not selling it anymore, either. Or rather, that 'we ran that little squab out of business', as Marisa put it to me today. So I was just curious to see what you'd be-” He looked down at the cloth sacks. “What are these things?”

“Magic sand,” Mystia chirped.

“Magic sand.” Rinnosuke repeated. “Is that right?”

“That's right. And it can do anything,” said Wriggle, punctuating it with a nod.

Rinnosuke suppressed a smile. “Anything?”

“Well, not anything of course,” Mystia shrugged. “But it can take care of, uh, headaches, and fever, and bad stomach. That kind of thing.”

Rinnosuke picked up a bag, weighing it in his hand. It was no bigger than his palm. He turned it over in his hand, and then put it down. “And how did you get this magic sand?”

Mystia cleared her throat. “It's a trade secret. Sorry.”

“Hm. Of course.” Rinnosuke rubbed his chin. He saw an opportunity take shape. “You know what? I'm going to help you out. I'll recommend people stop by here.”

Mystia's eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Of course,” Rinnosuke smiled. “It's not easy starting a new business. I admire your entrepreneurial spirit.” He picked up the same bag he'd inspected before. “May I have one? How much?”

Mystia and Wriggle froze. They hadn't actually thought of a price. Rinnosuke reached into his pocket, dropping a one yen coin onto the cloth over the grill. He turned, walking away. “Good luck, you two,” he called back. This ought to be fun, he thought to himself.

3.

The next day, Rinnosuke paid a visit to the human village. He brought up Mystia's magic sand frequently in conversation. As outlandish as Mystia's claims of the sand's power were, Rinnosuke offered that at one yen a piece, it wouldn't hurt to try it. Worse thing that happens is, it doesn't work, he'd say. Which is what he imagined would happen, as one person after the next would invariably ask for their money back, teaching Mystia a little lesson in swindling people. At Rinnosuke's recommendation, dozens of people visited Mystia's stand.

Mystia couldn't believe how well business was doing. She and Wriggle spent the first few nights digging sand until dawn, busy making the little pouches of sand under the stars.

And then business began to really pick up.

Much to Rinnosuke's surprise, people began to claim that the sand worked. Headache gone, stomach calmed, dandruff cured – all because of the sand. He couldn't believe it. Did it actually have magical properties? Did that stupid sparrow stumble upon it due to sheer luck? Stranger things have happened in Gensokyo, he had to admit. Still, he had to be sure.

4.

Marisa stood outside her home one afternoon, airing out a blanket, flapping it in the air with both hands. She'd had a lot of free time lately, and got bored enough to give her place a cleaning. She smiled, a bit relieved, to see Rinnosuke approaching.

“Hey there, Rinnosuke!” Marisa said, letting the blanket drop. “What brings you by?”

Rinnosuke took the bag of sand from his pocket, holding it out for Marisa. “Mystia has been selling these. It's supposed to be magic sand.”

“Magic sand, eh?” Marisa smiled, snapping it up. “Hm.” She smelled it, then opened it, looking inside. She shrugged. “Looks like regular ol' sand.”

“Would you mind … checking it?”

“Check to see if it's magic? Sure, I've got nothing better to do. What's it supposed to do?”

Rinnosuke sighed. “It's supposed to be a type of medicine. Cures an array of symptoms.”

Marisa chuckled, looking into the bag. “So Mystia's still a con artist.”

“Well, probably. But you know, I'd like to be sure.”

Marisa considered Rinnosuke a moment. He rubbed his nose.

“Why do you care, hm?” Marisa asked, smirking. “People not buying your roots and berries?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “There has been a … not insignificant drop in sales in that area, yes.”

Marisa nodded. “Yeah, alright. I'll check it out. You head on back and do whatever it is you do all day.” With that, she turned, and went back in the house.

Rinnosuke watched the door close. Shaking his head, he turned and headed back to his shop.

5.

As Marisa had discovered, the sand had no magical properties whatsoever. It was just regular sand. She'd seen this happen before. When she was a girl, there was a man who claimed to have discovered a tree bark that could cure colds if you chewed it. One by one, more and more people began noticing that it worked, and soon they started looking for the trees themselves. When the miraculous healing trees were unfound, the man who sold the bark confessed that it had been a hoax.

Mystia was trying to do the same thing with her sand. It boggled Marisa's mind just how short-sighted the idea was, but she wasn't surprised by the source. Neither was Rinnosuke to hear it. Mystia's comeuppance is going to be sweet, he mused.

And yet as the week passed, the number of customers only built and built. At first, Mystia was delighted, but as demand grew, so did she and Wriggle lose more and more sleep, digging into the sand of the Misty Lake for hours on end. Her back ached from the work. Her nerves frayed from lack of rest. Their clandestine operations were starting to leave a dent in the sand about half a meter deep and a meter wide.

She knew it was only a matter of time before this had to end. And then what? When she was able to catch an hour or two of sleep, she dreamed of angry mobs of people, chasing her.

Mystia had to sneak out of this situation somehow. After giving the matter some thought, she decided she would again ask for Rinnosuke's help. Only this time, to tell people that the sand was all finished, and that was that. Mystia would lay low for a while, and try to come up with another idea. The matter decided, she made off for Rinnosuke's. Being human, Mystia reckoned he lived in the human village.

On the outskirts of the village, early in the evening, Mystia moved furtively behind the trees, eyeing up the houses and shops for any sign of Rinnosuke. She didn't see him, and couldn't read any of the signs. She made her way into the village center, looking around.

“There she is!” a voice called from behind her. She spun around, startled, and saw five men standing in front of a noodle stand.

“That's the youkai I was telling you about,” said one of the men to the others. “The one who sold me that sand that got rid of my bad back.” They looked at her, impressed, and began to approach.

“Where's it come from?” asked one of the men.

Mystia laughed nervously. “It's a trade secret, ha. Sorry.”

“Come on,” said another. “Tell us. It's not fair. Why should you be the only one to know?”

“Yeah,” the one with the bad back added, his tone hardening a little. “Who are you to stand in the way? People get sick, you know.”

Mystia could feel her heart pounding. If she ran, she knew the whole village would be after her within minutes. Her eyes darted around.

“OK, a- alright!” she stammered. “Listen, it's … it's just regular sand.”

The men stopped. A stray dog barked somewhere.

“What do you mean?” asked the man with the bad back, his eyes cold. They began to approach her again. Mystia could feel her wings beginning to tense up for flight. Fear pounded in her veins.

Marisa stepped up from behind Mystia. “She uses special youkai powers,” the magician said. Mystia turned, looking up at her with a pleading expression.

The men stopped. “Youkai powers?” asked one.

“Yep,” confirmed Marisa with a nod. “She takes ordinary sand, holds it, and shines her special magic youkai power light into it, and just like that – it's magic sand.”

The men appeared incredulous for a moment. Marisa leaned against her broom, smiling. Mystia could feel her stomach trying to curl up into a tiny ball.

“Oh,” said one of the men at last, cautiously. “I … don't really know anything about youkai. But you know your stuff, so …” Mystia could feel every nerve in her body relax. She looked at Marisa. The magician really did have a good heart after all. A smile grew across the sparrow's face. The man reached into his pocket, taking out an iron key, he held it out to Mystia. “Show us.”

Mystia looked at the key, then looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Make the key magic,” he said matter-of-factly. “Make it do what the sand does.”

Marisa put a hand on Mystia's shoulder. “Well, night sparrow, this bird's gotta fly.” She mounted her broom. “You have a really, really good evening, hear? See ya!”

Mystia watched as Marisa zipped off into the sky. She turned back to the man with the key. Marisa Kirisame, Mystia thought, reaching for the key, I will get you for this.

(Image: Pixiv)