The Outside world is a strange place, and there are no doubts about it. From men that thrive on the idea of being eaten alive, to the trogs that make new anthropomorphic hedgehogs, the human world slowly becomes more and more bizarre each day. Now, I could call it a day right there and you would be left without a doubt as to the pure insanity of a human fetish, but there is one that is prosaic to nearly all in society, one so commonplace that it is almost synonymous with fetish itself. That is, of course, bondage. There is no social class or ethnicity wherein bondage is not part of, from the bus driver to the socialite. You and I could walk into any dodgy couples’ store and easily obtain ropes and handcuffs for a kinky night of nights, but what would happen if y’ins take the store out of the equation? The answer, very simply, is that you jazz, or improvise. Due to tariffs, many inhabitants of Gensokyo took to creating their own ropes, borrowing from Yamame, or smuggling from the few bus drivers, as they had permits to sell anything in Gensokyo. One of those affected was Sanae Kochiya, the miko of Moriya Shrine. Sanae was from the outside world, and as such could not just “make do”. She paid a bus driver, one Scion Xingdong, to bring her a new pair of ropes. She went to pick them up, but before she was able to obtain said ropes, Scion stopped her, for an exchange, and it went something like so:

“Yo, got a package for a Sanae Kashiya, you called for this, right,” said Scion, “Huge set of BDSM gear, no?” the bus driver paused between words, as though he didn’t know what to say next.

“That would be me, yes, Sanae Kochiya, not whatever you said,” replied her, “and may I see the goods prior to payment?”

“Hold on, mamacita,” replied Scion, as there are no translations for what he said, “By Gensokyo law, I can’t just hand it over to you, because that would be smuggling. I need to see your money, as then it would be business, and therefore legal.”

Sanae begrudgingly agreed, and opened the briefcase she was carrying to reveal a stash of food, replete with items there are no words, English or Japanese, to describe them. “Are you happy, old man?” Sanae replied, attempting to hide her glee, “I know how much you love these, so could you please give me my stuff now?”

Scion smiled. Not much gave him happiness those days, excluding food and evading authority, but the upfrontness of Sanae seemed an equivalent to those. “Alright, ma’am. Let me get to the trunk of my bus, it’s in there. I’ll warn you, the guy who sold it to me didn’t seem that trustworthy, so you might want to check it out first. I heard Cirno tests that stuff out for a pithy sum.” He went to the side of the bus, and kicked the side, in a way that no man who didn’t understand the ways of the bus would see as healthy. As the trunk opened, several CDs of the latest touhou game fell out. From their piteous shape and the poorly made labels, even a secondary could discern that they were bootlegged. “I, uh, you shouldn’t, you know, please don’t tell Customs, please Sanae, just don’t,” he said, clasping his hands together in a plea, “Let me look for it, and you keep watch.” Sanae went to a state of heightened awareness only a shrine maiden could, while Scion threw out several items that could only be described as high comedy. After a great deal of falaana and jamaca, Scion threw out a suitcase labeled “Sanae’s Booty Jams” and a keyring with a frog on it. “How...quaint,” Sanae said, blushing, “I believe I shall take those and leave you.”

“Yeah you really should, I’d hate for you to get caught up with the cops, man, it could be the next Watergate if you were found here,” Scion replied, “Forget I said that. You aren’t supposed to know about that.”

“You know I will, and if they ask me, I’ll say: ‘What’s Watergate?’” Sanae said, with the suitcase and keyring in tow, slowly lifting off the ground. With that, she was off, back to her shrine. Despite the story shifting away from Scion at that point, I have, through callous disregard for boundaries and a lot of food, been able to find a non apocryphal or poetic telling of what happened to Scion after she left. As Sanae flew off away from the bus, Scion turned around, and winked, possibly as some real-life fourth wall break, and said, “Boy, I hope Sanae checks that with someone, because that guy who sold the gear to me didn’t seem like a guy who would just give out that without some sort of a monkey paw to it.” After that entirely true statement, Scion climbed onto his bus, and drove away, Pachelbel ringing out as a metaphorical middle finger to all.