“There exist infinite worlds and infinite possibilities. If there were a way to interact with them, that would be most intriguing. However, one ought not to forget that doing so risks warping the very fabric of time and existence.” I forget when, but I think I might have read that in one of the books I sorted… This paradoxical tale is one that could have been. Or perhaps indeed it was. It’s but one of many possibilities.

On that day, Koakuma was doing what she always did. She was sorting books in the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s Great Library. While doing so, a certain book may have caught her eye. And the contents of this book could have been the catalyst for a new possibility. Intrigued by the old book, Koakuma flicked through its tattered pages. She could only make out but a few of the words inscribed. And yet, she felt compelled to continue reading. Her eyes scanned the pages, gleaning what information they could, as her mind tried desperately to make sense of it all. “Is this… a summoning ritual? And this looks like… a description of Makai…” she muttered, the book laid open in her hands.

Intrigue is a force that drives people, and Koakuma felt it, pulling her toward the book’s summoning ritual. Where intrigue goes, the heart follows. She attempted the ritual. The summoning circle shone with light. Through the circle, she saw a different possibility. She saw herself from another world. Shock stole the words from Koakuma’s mouth. She felt as if the “her” on the other side spoke, but that may not have been the case. Alas, the words rang clear in her ear and lingered in her mind.

Both Koakumas spend their days in the vampire’s residence, and both lack a real name. But they are both mere possibilities contained within the concept of “Koakuma.” That’s why their hair and attire are different. So too are their roles, their standings, and the fates they carry. The Koakuma who performed the summoning ritual, for example, sorts books in the Great Library and performs puppet shows on the shores of the Misty Lake. The summoned Koakuma, on the other hand, is a butler sworn to serve the witch she is bound to. Won’t their body types differ as well, you ask? Yes, well… if you take a closer look― …On second thought, some things are better left unsaid.

“Koakuma, what have you been doing?” Patchouli asked having returned from her outing. By that time, Koakuma had resumed sorting books. But there was something not quite right. Something… different. “Welcome home, Lady Patchouli. Shall I prepare some tea? Or perhaps coffee?” Indeed it was Koakuma… but which one? The old book lay bare on the floor, the words vanished from its pages.