Akyuu listened intently as I expined everything about myself—who I was, my tricks, my encounters, and even the strange ability that had woven me into Gensokyo's story. She remained silent the entire time, only nodding occasionally while her brush danced across the parchment, recording my words in her own way.

  When I finally finished, I let out a sigh. "That's everything. You don't need to exaggerate anything, alright? I don't want to wake up one morning and find out I'm now a 'demon king of illusions' or something."

  Akyuu chuckled lightly. "I don't fabricate information like the tengu do. My records are meant to preserve the truth, not twist it into a story for entertainment." She gnced at the page she had been writing on. "Though I admit, you are quite an unusual case."

  I smirked. "Unusual? I think that's an understatement."

  She took a sip from her bamboo medicine container before setting it down beside her. "Your ability... It's dangerous, isn't it?"

  That question made me pause. "Dangerous?"

  Akyuu tapped her brush against her chin thoughtfully. "Yes. The way you described it, you're essentially bending reality through deception. That means, depending on how you use it, you could change Gensokyo itself in ways no one could predict."

  I leaned back slightly, rubbing the back of my neck. "That's... true, I guess. But it's not as powerful as you're making it sound. It only works in specific situations, and it doesn't make me some all-powerful being."

  She looked at me seriously. "But do you control it? Or does it control you?"

  Her words struck a strange chord in my mind. I had never really thought about it that way. My ability had always been something I used as a st resort, a trick to survive when things got bad. But... had it ever done something I didn't expect?

  I frowned. "I control it. I don't lie all the time. It's not like I can just cim to be a god and suddenly become one."

  Akyuu nodded slowly. "Still, abilities tied to belief can be unpredictable. I'm not saying you'll lose control, but... if someone understands it too well, they could turn it against you."

  That was a good point. If someone figured out exactly how my ability worked and maniputed the situation, they might be able to render it useless or force it to activate in ways I didn't want. It was something I'd need to be careful about.

  Changing the subject, I leaned forward. "But enough about me. I told you my story, now tell me something about you."

  She blinked in surprise. "Me?"

  "Yeah," I said. "I mean, I know you're the Child of Miare and you record history, but what's it like? You basically carry the memory of all your past lives, right?"

  Akyuu hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's... complicated. I remember everything, but at the same time, I don't."

  I raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't make sense."

  She smiled softly. "Imagine reading a book about someone's life. You might remember every page, every word, but that doesn't mean you lived it yourself. My past lives feel like that—a collection of memories that belong to someone else, but are still a part of me."

  I folded my arms. "That sounds exhausting."

  She gave a small ugh. "It can be. Sometimes I wonder if it's really me thinking something, or if it's just an echo of a past life influencing me." Her smile faded slightly. "But that's my role in Gensokyo. To remember and record. It's not something I can change."

  I tilted my head. "Do you ever want to change it?"

  Akyuu didn't answer right away. She looked down at her hands, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the parchment she had been writing on. "...Sometimes," she admitted. "But if I don't record history, who will? If I don't preserve what happens in Gensokyo, then it may be lost forever."

  I thought about that for a moment. "That's a lot of responsibility for someone who looks like a kid."

  She sighed dramatically. "I am a kid, in this life at least. But I don't have the luxury of growing up like a normal one."

  I stared at her for a few seconds before smirking. "You know, you remind me of a certain vampire I met."

  Akyuu blinked in surprise before ughing. "Remilia Scarlet? I suppose I can see the comparison. But she has something I don't."

  "What's that?"

  "Freedom."

  I frowned. "You're not exactly locked in a cage, are you?"

  "No," she admitted. "But my fate is already written. I will live, I will record, and one day... I will die young, only to be reborn again with these memories."

  The way she said it made me feel... uneasy. Unlike most people in Gensokyo, who could live however they pleased, Akyuu was bound by a cycle she couldn't escape. It made me wonder...

  What would happen if I lied about it?

  I quickly shook off the thought. That was too dangerous. Even if I could change her fate, I had no idea what the consequences would be.

  Instead, I simply said, "That sounds rough."

  Akyuu smiled again, though it was weaker this time. "It is. But it's my duty."

  I leaned back and stretched. "Well, if you ever get tired of it, let me know. I'm great at making people disappear."

  She ughed at that. "I'll keep that in mind."

  As we talked, I realized something. Despite her knowledge, her memories, and her wisdom beyond her apparent years—Akyuu was still human. She had worries, doubts, and regrets like anyone else.

  And maybe... just maybe... she wanted someone to see her as more than just the Child of Miare.

  I stood up, brushing off my coat. "Alright, I think I've given you enough material to write a whole book on me. Anything else you want to ask?"

  Akyuu shook her head. "No, I think I have what I need."

  I nodded. "Good. Then I'll be heading out."

  As I turned to leave, she suddenly spoke up. "Mirage Carl."

  I gnced back at her. "Yeah?"

  She hesitated before saying, "Thank you... for telling me the truth."

  I ughed at her words. "I'm a magician who tricks people, so don't trust me too much."

  Akyuu smirked slightly. "Then maybe I should write in my records that Mirage Carl is an honest liar."

  "Sounds like a fitting title," I replied, adjusting my top hat.

  As I turned to leave, I paused at the door. Then, with a grin, I decided to leave her with a little parting gift—a harmless lie.

  "Oh, by the way," I said casually, "I have a rule—I don't let people I know leave this world before me. So you're going to live a long, healthy life. Enjoy it."

  Akyuu blinked, her expression momentarily surprised. Then, she chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That's quite the strange thing to say."

  I just waved. "Who knows? Maybe it'll come true."

  With that, I stepped out of the room, leaving her to ponder my words. As I walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but wonder—would she believe my lie? And if she did... would my ability make it real?

  Well, only time would tell.