'I have never desired Google as much as I do right now,' Dantalion thought.
He wasn't talking about their stocks or anything like that.
Dantalion, at this moment, was lamenting how he didn't have access to Google.
This had been on his mind for a while. A clear sign of it gnawing at him was during his trip to the Dark Sea with Sara.
After being 'born,' his [Perfect Memory] made everything in his mind settle into perfect solidity.
From that point on, his memories would never degrade. His 'Ego' wouldn't erode either.
However, the memories from before his reincarnation were a different matter.
In Dantalion's mind, while every memory of his past had been preserved by [Perfect Memory], it didn't magically restore anything that was already blurry or vague.
It just saved it as is.
As would happen when you save a low-resolution image.
He tried recreating those memories using the 'space' and his [Illusionary Manipulation].
Maybe, by watching the scenes play out again, his mind would auto-complete what was missing.
It ended in genuine failure.
Fruitless. All he could conjure were the things he already knew.
'This doesn't feel magical at all.'
Dantalion thinks it was annoyingly 'too logical'.
Mysteries were supposed to be part of magic. It should work in an inexplicable way--one that would lead anyone trying to understand it to ruin.
It's magical because it just works that way.
Maybe it's just limited to his, Dantalion wouldn't know as he has yet to meet anyone just like him.
Except, while they have some correlations as to why he desires access to a search engine, it is not the sole reason.
Dantalion's 'D-Tingly' is twitching whenever he reaches certain conclusions.
He had once told Kujou Sara that their abilities shared uncanny similarities--or at least, they did based on his extremely limited knowledge of Tengu myths from Earth.
He remembered searching it once. Probably after watching Demon Slayer.
Didn't even finish the series. But he clearly remembered the guy with a long-nosed mask.
He even clearly remembers that when he learned about Sojobo--Dantalion back then saw a painting depicting Sojobo and thought; huh, he closely resembles a Jew--
Extending to that was some very vague memory about their abilities and what they are.
Since at that time, he considered it useless knowledge--interesting, but no practical application--he didn't pay much attention to it after quenching his curiosity.
But now, when he thought of Tengu, and how his abilities seemed to echo those myths, his 'D-Tingly' twitched.
He didn't know what it was trying to tell him, but he was sure it was related to that information.
Either way, he couldn't Google it nor was there a way to access said information from here.
"We are so meant to be."
"...I said, stop–STOP THROWING–!!" Kujou Sara calmly muttered.
They are playing a co-op game about cooking.
Dantalion's character kept throwing tomatoes to Kujou Sara's side, he was doing it with such efficiency that Sara's floor couldn't even be seen anymore.
"My bad, I thought you might need them later," Dantalion replied to her calm remark.
"I COULDN'T EVEN SEE WHAT MY CHARACTER IS DOING!!"
"--Yo, chill out… You're acting like your mom right now–"
*Pzzzt
*Crack
The sound of electricity and something cracking creating the sound of something cracking because of something which led to something like this.
This has been their fifth restart.
Their first session was good, they reached a relatively good level in a considerable duration.
After some time, Dantalion started playing "efficiently" throwing everything on his side to Kujou Sara's without pause.
This has been their fifth time at this level.
With each restart, Kujou Sara's stress level accumulates.
Resulting in a cracking of something that created the sound of something cracking.
"Do you think Ei would play something like this?"
Kujou Sara didn't vocalize her thoughts on that but her stare pretty much clearly states it.
You are not asking the Shogun to this.
"What, you make decisions for her now? Isn't depriving your lord of such enjoyment considered treason?"
"You'd never know, maybe she would find it fun as much as you do now."
"Ehh… I'd ask her now."
Dantalion then proceeds to do so.
Drawing in so much energy from the book at an alarming rate–
Kujou Sara was startled as the Electro Archon directly appeared in front of them, covering their TV–
"How about you sit next to us and stop blocking the screen? That's just my suggestion, though."
Ei appeared in a flicker of violet light, her gaze landing first on the glowing TV screen, then on Dantalion.
"...What is the meaning of this."
"Just called you to play a game--"
Her eyes narrowed. "Why have you constructed twenty-three additional poles."
"Where would I dump all those energy if not in--"
"What do you intend to use them f--"
"Wench, shut up."
Ei blinked once.
"...I see."
"So, which game do you prefer? We have tabletops and this thing you're blocking." Dantalion narrated as he gestured to the TV behind her.
She stepped aside without a word and sat down beside Sara.
"…I will observe first."
Sara, of course, had no objections--whether out of loyalty or because she was still mentally recovering from the last tomato avalanche.
"Nah, these types are best experienced ignorant."
At his words, a controller materialized mid-air and dropped toward Ei. She caught it instinctively, the motion smooth, automatic.
It was a deep violet shade, with streaks of black and silver--a design eerily in line with her aesthetic.
She turned it over in her hands, studying it in silence. Then, wordlessly, she started pressing buttons one by one, tilting the controller slightly, then spinning one of the joysticks in slow circles.
Dantalion brought back the game to the character selection.
***
A day passed by.
"Tenshukaku delivery, Komaniya Express...!" Kirara called out softly, shifting her weight from paw to paw like a kid stalling before a dental appointment.
The bell on her collar jingled with each hesitant step--too loud, too exposed, too why did I take this job again. Her neko ears flattened for just a second before flicking upright again in forced optimism.
Two Tenryou Commission guards stood by the gates, as still as stone lanterns.
Yeesh, Kirara thought, do these guys train to be this unblinking?
This wasn't her usual route. High-clearance deliveries like this were strict. No rooftop shortcuts. No skipping the line. No "accidentally" leaving a package on the porch and scampering off before the door opened.
She liked her deliveries like she liked her naps--short, sweet, and zero contact with scary people who radiate existential dread.
But this was special cargo. And Komaniya Express never missed a delivery.
So she pressed forward.
And then--
CRACK.
A flash of violet thunder lit the gates ahead.
"Mnyaaa--!" Kirara recoiled a full step before she caught herself.
A familiar figure appeared in the sudden hush. Not stomping. Not striding. Just there.
"That should be mine," said Kujou Sara, her tone flat, calm, and unhurried. No emphasis. No need for one.
Kirara gulped. "Y-Yes, ma'am. Right on time!" she chirped, fumbling with the clipboard while fighting the urge to hiss and bolt.
She padded forward carefully and held it out with both hands, ears flicking low in submission. "Just, uh, sign right here, General Ma'am. Or Ma'am General. Whatever title makes you smile least aggressively."
Sara took the pen without a word, her grip clean and practiced.
And then Kirara felt it.
A shift in the air. A flicker behind the Tengu's stillness. Not malice. Not a threat.
Something alien. Larger. Not quite looking at her--but aware.
Something signed for the delivery before the hand ever moved.
Kirara blinked. Her tail froze mid-sway.
There was only one pen. Only one clipboard. Only one hand holding it.
And she watched the General Kujou Sara signed it.
So how in the purring stars did two signatures just appear?
The first was Sara's: sharp, swift, and military-grade neat.
The second--
She squinted.
The ink shimmered like oil over water. Swirling faintly, even though nothing moved.
Still, Komaniya Express had a reputation to maintain!
"...Mmhmm! Yep, all in order!" Kirara chirped a little too loudly, her voice cracking in a way she hoped sounded cute and not haunted.
She stuffed the clipboard back into her satchel like it might bite her. "Here's the package! Heavy-duty casing, no leaks, no curses--uh, hopefully. Ha ha."
Sara took it in one hand again. Effortless.
Kirara knows how heavy that package was. 'I guess a Tengu's physical strength really is comparable to Oni's...'
"I, uh, will now proceed to vacate the area in a brisk but non-threatening manner!" she said, executing the smoothest semi-bow she could manage with her fur standing on end.
She turned.
And then paused.
Kirara's ears flicked back. Her instincts screamed get out. Her professionalism whispered double check protocol. Her pride said don't look like a scared kitten in front of a client. Her survival instinct roared MOVE.
She slowly looked over her shoulder.
Sara hadn't moved.
"...Okay! Great! Wonderful!" Kirara said, voice now an octave higher, backing away.
"Thank you for choosing Komaniya Express!"
She bowed, turned, and booked it.
Her sandals hit the pavement in a rapid rhythm, one paw after the other, tails trailing behind like a pair of antennae tuned to danger.
When she was finally two rooftops away, she dropped to all fours.
She curled up under the awning of a quiet shrine, pulled out the clipboard again, and peeked at the second signature.
It was gone.
Only Sara's name remained.
"...Nope," she said, snapping it shut and stuffing it back into her pouch.
---
Inside Kujou Sara's head,
'Damn. Back in my world, that'd take two to five days--and within those two to five days, they will do everything in their power for your parcel to be riddled with dents, signs of it being dragged down the road with a rope; like some medieval serf that stole a gram of salt.
Then, maybe, if the stars aligned, your parcel arrived mostly intact…'
Kujou Sara said nothing. Her face remained still. Cold, focused--basically how it usually is.
Her boots tapped steadily against the polished stone as she crossed the courtyard, then up the marble steps of Tenshukaku.
Inside her head, the voice persisted.
'Fuck Hermes.'
She didn't respond. Not aloud. Not even mentally. But a faint twitch of her eye might've betrayed the echo.
She climbed higher, past the carved pillars and guards that didn't dare meet her gaze.
She was headed toward the audience chamber.
'I'm curious, Sara. Were you born with parents or just naturally manifested and given to a designated Tengu Family?'
"I clearly remember having biological parents."
'Yeah, but do you remember anything in the womb?'
"That's impossible."
'That's right, impossible for YOU.'
"And what, you remember yours?
'Yeah, I was inside you, mother.'
"..."
During their short exchange, Sara had reached her destination.
The twin doors to the audience chamber loomed tall before her--black lacquered wood inlaid with delicate violet veins of Electro crystal, humming faintly with restrained power. The guards outside--elite, expressionless--stood still, their eyes narrowing just slightly as she approached.
She halted a few paces from the threshold, boots clicking against the stone.
Her expression remained composed, but there was a tension in the set of her jaw. She stood in silence for a moment longer than necessary--as if bracing herself.
Then, with a deep breath, she placed her fist over her heart, bowed slightly, and spoke.
"Kujou Sara of the Tenryou Commission… requests an audience with the Shogun."
She paused--then continued, voice quieter now, but no less clear.
"…on behalf of the other."
She did not raise her voice. She didn't need to. In this place, power was not measured in volume.
The air responded.
The towering doors began to part with a low, harmonic resonance.
Sara remained still until the doors fully opened, then stepped forward with steady, purposeful strides--her posture rigid, her expression unreadable, and her grip firm around the package she carried.
Sara walked forward, stopping at the base of the steps.
She dropped to--
"WE GOT THE GOODS, HAHA!"
The illusory mouth on her cheek opened like a gleeful clown, shouting at full volume.
The package--unopened seconds ago--floated into the air and began unboxing itself with an exaggerated flourish.
"Call yo mama, we got the good stuff."
The Shogun puppet looked at the Eye below Kujou Sara's and replied,
"...She's not interested."
"There's nothing we can do then." Dantalion then closed the eye on Kujou Sara's cheek and undid the Illusionary mouth below it.
After that, both Kujou Sara and the Shogun Puppet saw a man appear beside the package.
He wasn't wearing the traditional garb of Inazuma--his clothing stood out immediately against the quiet order of Tenshukaku's audience chamber.
He wore a full white suit--clean lines, sharp tailoring, double breasted jacket with a high waisted, pleated trouser.
Not a speck of dust on the fabric.
Underneath, a dark navy shirt provided a deep contrast, the top button undone, collar resting open without care for strict formality.
On his feet were Black High Cuban-heeled Chelsea Boots, polished to a soft shine. The pointed toe giving them an edge of elegance without feeling showy.
It wasn't flamboyant, but it wasn't forgettable either. A look more at home in Fontaine's social halls or Mondstadt's embassies than in Inazuma's solemn, tatami-lined chamber.
Though, on closer inspection, the design was too clean, too pared down--lacking the ornamental flair of Fontaine or the romantic looseness of Mondstadt. It was deliberate in its simplicity. Practical. As if styled for someone who liked walking into ornate places without ever belonging to them.
It was Dantalion.
Using illusion to appear like he was actually there.
He took in the vastness of the chamber with a satisfied nod and said, "Mind if Kujou Sara moves her office here? Lighting's good. Very spacious."
Kujou Sara's soul left her body for a moment.
The Shogun puppet looked at Dantalion with an unreadable expression.
"What–Your Excellency, I apologize on his behalf, please disregard his nonsense." Kujou Sara intervened,
Dantalion's suggestion is laughably ignorant.
He even ignores how the Shogun doesn't approve of his presence.
Dantalion was already walking in a small circle, arms behind his back like an art critic. "Just a corner. That's all. Visitors would still have to queue up at her old place though."
"..."
The silence stretched, the air stilled and the tension thickened.
Kujou Sara couldn't intervene this time, it's getting harder to breathe.
This was getting dangerous.
The stillness turned sharp--like breath held too long. Even the Electro veins in the walls pulsed more slowly. Sara knew that sound. The kind that came before thunder.
Dantalion, meanwhile, knelt beside the now-unboxed package, adjusting something. Still completely relaxed.
"Guess that's not a no? Alright, Sara, I'm thinking your desk goes riiight there by the pillar--"
ZAAAP–KRAKABOOM!
The illusion shimmered violently as the bolt of raw--potent Electro fury arced across the room like divine wrath given form. The illusion of Dantalion shattered in an instant, ripping through the image, the package, the floor--leaving behind scorched air and a drifting plume of smoke.
Kujou Sara didn't flinch.
Her eyes remained locked on the floor, and the tension in her shoulders refused to ease.
Dantalion's voice came from behind her ear, a little singed.
"So... corner desk's a maybe?" His voice carries that imaginary grin when you hear it,
"..."
"...Why is Ei not getting out... Hmm..." Finally, Dantalion's voice flattened.
He dropped the act, the expression on his face turning neutral, waiting closely for any changes in the Puppets' eyes.
Calling out Ei like how he did before would not work now as he is in front of the puppet. If he did just that, Ei would just cut off the flow of energy the moment she felt he was near the puppet.
Thinking the puppet would make the same decision anyway even if she doesn't come out.
"I'll just come back later."
Leaving those words behind, his illusions dissipated like mist, and beside Kujou Sara, the package--presumed destroyed just moments ago--sat whole.
No longer boxed. Its contents are now visible.
Stacks of books.
Neat. Ordered. Precisely bound.
Clearly, he had no intention of reading them alone--he left them with Kujou Sara.
Three stacks total.
Two were addressed to Kujou Sara.
One marked with a note: Barney.
All of it was Dantalion's doing.
And just like that, he vanished.
Leaving behind another aftermath for Kujou Sara to handle.
'Truly insufferable...'
***
Days later.
Kujou Sara's patrol in Ritou.
She never really scheduled her patrols on paper. It was always just a mental note to herself.
It was a good idea--no one could ever really predict when or where she would appear.
'Look there, Sara.' A glowing arrow appeared, pointing toward the ocean.
Dantalion was, naturally, also with her.
Hearing his words, Kujou Sara turned to where the arrow pointed. In the distance, she could clearly see a pursuit unfolding.
A woman was being chased by a group of three men.
"Those men should be part of the Kanjou Commission."
It looked like the woman was trying to escape Inazuma--and the Kanjou Commission had come to stop her.
Sara stretched her wings, raising them fully as she prepared to jump. With a soft grunt, she leapt--leaving behind a sharp gust of wind where she once stood.
She wasn't planning to intervene in the pursuit. She just wanted to gain a vantage point to observe.
And if they failed, she would have no choice but to take action.
Loose papers flew, lanterns swayed on their hooks, and more than one passerby let out a startled cry.
---
Kanjou Commission officers and uniformed samurai scanned the horizon. Their spyglass fixed on the small silhouette bobbing on the sea.
"Drifting," one whispered, voice carried by the wind. "No vision vessel."
Another clicked the seal of his bamboo tablet. "She's already past enforcement reach. An hour or more out."
A samurai stepped forward, sword sheathed. "Shall we pursue?"
The senior officer shook his head. "She's alone. On a makeshift craft. The storm edge closes around her."
No more boats launched. No pursuit followed.
"No sense in chasing a ghost."
"Call them off. Let the sea take her--this one's not worth a skirmish."
"We'll log her departure. Then forget her."
He paused.
"This has happened too many times to waste resources identifying every escapee. If no one recognizes her after we ask around, then she'll be forgotten."
---
The woman's arms were about to give out. There was no strength left in them--only a dull numbness from the relentless motion, from pushing her body far beyond what it was ever meant to endure.
Each stroke of the paddle was weaker than the last. Her breath came in short, raw gasps. Saltwater clung to her lips, and her vision blurred--not from tears, but exhaustion and the sting of the sea.
She didn't look back.
Not because she was brave, but because she couldn't bear to see how close they might be.
Only the horizon mattered now.
A horizon that is covered in perpetual tempest of wind and rain.
And so she endured.
The waves were growing taller. Harsher. Violent enough now that every rise and fall sent the raft groaning and splintering beneath her. It was holding, but barely. A single wrong angle, a stronger current--and it would come apart.
She knew that. She had known from the start.
But given how far she must've come, surely no one was following her anymore.
Surely.
The Kanjou Commission wouldn't chase someone this deep into the storm. Not for someone like her. Not for someone with no Vision, no standing, no name worth recording.
And so she let herself believe--just a little--that she was finally beyond their reach.
The thunder grew louder now. Closer.
She could barely open her eyes--the sting of saltwater made every blink a struggle. Rain lashed her face in sharp bursts, and the wind stole the breath straight from her lungs.
Her hands slipped. The paddle dipped sideways, dragging uselessly against the current. Her grip tightened,
Has it tightened? She couldn't feel it.
She wouldn't know.
She coughed. Gasped. Blinked against the sting.
Thunder--
It cracked overhead like the sky had split open. Too close. Far too close.
She looked up.
And her hope died.
High above the sea, descending like a judgment from the heavens, was a figure veiled in stormlight.
Kujou Sara.
The General of the Tenryou Commission.
Her two pairs of wings spread wide, obsidian black and impossibly still against the writhing clouds behind her. Lightning forked across the sky--but none dared touch her. The wind, which just moments before had howled with wild fury, now circled around her in a perfect ring, spiraling downward in obedient currents.
It wasn't that she endured the storm.
It was that she had brought it with her.
Rain slowed to a mist in her presence. The sea beneath her calmed just enough for the raft to feel isolated, like it had drifted into a sacred, forbidden eye of power. And above it all, she hovered--silent, absolute, in control.
Vision glowing with quiet menace.
Eyes sharp and distant, like a hawk's watching prey too small to matter.
To the woman below, she did not seem alive. Not human. Not even mortal.
"..." Tears left the woman's eyes and--
She passed out from exhaustion. [1]
---
"Hm... This girl seems familiar." Dantalion muttered.
"Though, isn't it foul that you had chased after her when you didn't with the others that tried before her?" He continued by saying, "Kinda fucked y'know..."
"Hm, if I weren't made aware of it in the first place then she might've succeeded. I can't just let this be when it's in front of me."
"You're gaining Hypocrite stats +1 in a rapid phase."
"That's nonsense."
"You could still help her reach Liyue," Dantalion offered lightly, saying it without care, "It's not like anyone's watching right now."
Her expression didn't change.
Sara stepped off the air and landed silently on the battered raft.
Rain hissed as it touched her armor. She looked down at the unconscious woman, whose chest was barely rising.
Without a word, she bent down and lifted the woman into her arms.
Kujou Sara didn't respond to Dantalion.
Her wings spread once more.
-Chapter End-
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[1] : I am not letting Atsuko leave! HAHAHA