Yukari Yakumo, the Great Sage of Youkai, was the strongest entity of her era, with few rivals who could stand in her presence. In the minds of most youkai, only the aloof sovereign, Yuuka Kazami, the Mistress of Flowers across the Four Seasons, could truly match her stature.

Yet, few knew that within this dilapidated shrine resided a young Miko whose strength was in no way inferior to Yukari Yakumo’s. “Why is it that every time I visit, you’re occupied with such tedious tasks?” Yukari asked, stepping through the thick snow, her gaze fixed on the Miko perched atop the roof.

“It’s not tedious at all,” the Miko replied, mending a section of the roof where the heavy snow had pressed a transparent crater. “Look, this hole is almost fixed.” “What’s the point of repairing such a decrepit shrine?” Yukari stated coolly.

The shrine was ancient, both in style and age, crumbling everywhere, feeling like a mountain shrine abandoned for years. In her estimation, it was utterly useless, save for its somewhat pleasing location.

The Miko simply smiled, unconcerned. “Though this shrine is a bit worn, it’s the place I’ve always lived.

Being able to keep it standing on this earth by my own hands is the most meaningful thing there is.” “With your power, you could secure something far better…” Yukari sighed. The Miko chuckled softly.

“Yes, right now, I simply wish to make it better, because this place is my home.” “……” Yukari paused slightly, then said no more. A thought stirred in her mind—home… Human concepts were so often opaque.

Why such an intense fixation on that word? What feeling could it possibly evoke?

It seemed she had never experienced such a thing. “It looks a bit cold outside.

Care for some tea inside, Yukari?” Yukari, lost in her musings, was suddenly brought back by the Miko’s voice. She snapped out of her reverie and looked up.

“No, I have no desire to ingest dust along with your tea.” The Miko blinked, then quickly understood, unable to help but laugh. “That’s true.

While I have great confidence in my handiwork, controlling stray dust is beyond me.” Once that was said, silence fell between them. The Miko returned to her dedicated work on the roof, while Yukari simply stood in the snow, watching quietly.

Her purpose in coming here was certainly not to observe roof repairs. After spending time with the Miko, she had learned enough about her personality to know better than to interrupt.

Soon, the Miko hopped down from the roof, clapping her hands. “There, now we don’t have to worry about snow blowing into the house.

Working half the day makes one hungry… Yukari, want to join me?” “I didn’t come to your home to sponge a meal off you,” Yukari retorted, yet she followed the Miko into the shrine nonetheless… Clearly, she was the type whose actions belied her protests. The Miko’s lunch was meager: two steamed buns, a bowl of greens, and a bowl of clear broth.

Although Yukari wasn't overly picky, seeing the spread before her made her raise an eyebrow involuntarily. “Is this all you eat in a day?” “It is.

Is that not allowed?” the Miko countered. Yukari sighed again.

“I can understand the state of this rundown shrine, but being this austere with food seems excessive… I don’t recall any rule mandating Miko’s abstain from good fare. Why subject yourself to such austerity?” “Because I have no money,” the Miko provided an answer that elicited deep sympathy.

Yukari truly did sigh, sighing until she was speechless. ‘No money’ might be a normal explanation for ordinary people, but for the Miko before her, it made no sense… With power as extreme as hers, a quick sweep outside would yield vast amounts of income.

Of course, Yukari knew that despite her immense strength, the Miko never preyed on the weak; asking her to resort to theft or extortion would be harder than killing her. But even without such drastic measures, how could a Miko capable of offering blessings, healing sickness, and warding off disaster possess not a single coin?

Yukari knew the reason: this Miko never accepted payment for her services. Whether healing an illness or fulfilling a prayer, she expended her energy, the matter was resolved, yet she refused any gifts offered by those she helped.

Yukari couldn't comprehend it: was this foolishness or just excessive kindness? “Do you think I am being foolish?” Seeing Yukari’s expression, the Miko guessed her thoughts and asked with a smile.

“Do you want the truth or a lie?” Yukari shot back. “It sounds like the truth won't be pleasant,” the Miko replied, putting down her chopsticks.

Her gentle smile remained, though a touch of longing appeared in her eyes. “I understand what you’re thinking.

But for me, the reward has already been collected… Seeing those trapped by misfortune, afflicted by sickness, and being able to use my power to help them, to let them live on healthily—that is the greatest reward.” “You only help others because you want to help them?” “Yes. The fact that everyone accepts my help is satisfaction enough for me.” “Still very foolish,” Yukari scoffed, seemingly dismissive of the Miko’s noble sentiment.

“Since humans mean so much to you, why do you also aid youkai? Don’t you know that youkai eat people?” “I know that,” the Miko’s smile didn't waver.

“But what I value is not limited to humans. To be precise, I cherish life itself.

Whether human, youkai, or any other animal, they are equal in my eyes. I love them, so when they are in difficulty, I help them… As for youkai eating humans, that is merely for survival, just as humans slaughter livestock to survive.

It is all the same.” The Miko spoke with ease, yet Yukari was momentarily stunned. She suddenly realized this Miko was, in a way, very much like herself.

“I see. But if that’s the case, then you can’t eat these greens, because they are also life.” As she spoke, Yukari pulled the only dish of greens on the table closer to herself.

The Miko shook her head at this, sighing wryly. “It seems that’s logically true.

Perhaps from now on I’ll have to subsist on air.” Despite her words, the Miko’s hands moved swiftly. Before Yukari could look away, her chopsticks darted out like lightning, and a small pile of greens disappeared onto her own bun.

“Such a Miko, saying one thing and doing another.” “Humans are inherently contradictory,” the Miko replied. … After lunch, the Miko began her rites to the resident deity.

Even in such a wretched shrine, the presence of a divine being was still felt, which piqued the curiosity of Yukari, who had been watching nearby. When the ritual concluded, she grumbled, “Just what kind of deity is attached to the Hakurei Shrine, anyway?” “I don’t know.

Perhaps there is one, or perhaps not,” the Miko responded. “You, a Miko, don’t even know if your shrine has a god?

You’re quite unprofessional,” Yukari continued her teasing. The Miko smiled, unperturbed by Yukari’s deliberate provocation.

Her gaze drifted toward the ceaselessly falling snow outside. “Once this snow stops, it will be time to properly renovate the shrine.” “You really put the shrine’s affairs first, don’t you?” Yukari observed.

The Miko nodded. “I am an abandoned infant, left at the Hakurei Shrine.

At that time, there was no Miko here, but I survived. I have always believed that the deity raised me and endowed me with power others do not possess.

So, once I grew up, I became the sole Miko of this shrine… This shrine gave me a place to exist; now it is time for me to repay that kindness.” “… Did you name it Hakurei?” Yukari asked. “I did.” “And what about you?

I realize you still haven’t told me your name.” “I don’t have a name.” “No name?” This answer genuinely surprised Yukari. The Miko remained perfectly calm.

“Is that so…” Yukari responded noncommittally, then looked up at the sky, clearly lost in thought about something. “You seem idle today.

Weren’t you planning to fight me?” the Miko inquired. “That was the original intention, but suddenly I’ve lost the desire…” Yukari paused mid-sentence, turning back.

“I often come here to fight you, interrupting your duties as a Miko. Doesn't that bother you?” The Miko shook her head and smiled, her gaze meeting Yukari’s.

“No, not at all. Because Yukari, you are my friend.

I’m happy you visit often to keep me company.” “Eh…” Yukari froze instantly. Friend?

They had only fought a few times and exchanged mere words; could that really qualify as friendship? Yukari was skeptical, yet looking at the Miko’s gentle smile, she found herself believing they truly were friends.

An inexplicable emotion began to stir in Yukari’s heart. Suddenly, she spoke, “There is something I wish to accomplish: to build a paradise where both youkai and humans, the weak and the strong, can coexist in peace… Can you help me?” “Yes, I will help you,” the Miko nodded without hesitation, then extended her hand, smiling.

“Yukari, please allow me to join you in building a paradise where everyone can live happily.” Yukari clasped the Miko’s hand and laughed. “Yes, together.” “By the way, have you decided on a name for this paradise?” “Stop thinking.

You’ve lost the chance to name it.” “Oh? What shall it be then?” “Gensokyo.” “That’s a fine name.” “I agree.” A youkai and a human Miko, as the two founders of Gensokyo, decided their future—and the future of Gensokyo itself—under the guise of casual banter.

: This chapter was truly laborious; it took a full six hours to write. Indeed, in my style, writing a Miko who adheres perfectly to upright principles is difficult, but… in my mind, the first generation was meant to be exactly this way.

To be continued...