"What are you doing, young man?"
The voice was very gentle.
Pure-white sakura drifted down and gathered upon a paper parasol, layering it with a thin covering of blossoms. Seen from afar, it looked as though the parasol had collected a small snowfall.
Early-winter sunlight poured down, most of it caught by the parasol and softened into a warm shadow. That shadow fell across the young retainer, and he raised his head to look at the woman holding it.
The boy named Kiyono Raimei lifted his violet eyes. Her face was reflected within them as he answered with complete seriousness:
"I am working on a recipe, Your Excellency."
"...A recipe?"
The woman beneath the parasol tilted her head with mild curiosity. She wore a pure-white kimono embroidered at the hem with hydrangeas. One pale hand emerged from her long collar to hold the bamboo parasol while white sakura rained softly upon it, lending her a hazy, solemn beauty.
She examined the things arranged upon the table. Alongside the cooking utensils were rice, fruit and vegetables, and all manner of seafood...
Were personal retainers always this idle?
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Kiyono Raimei addressed her with sincere respect. She was Baal, the true Narukami who governed Inazuma.
He had known this revered god for more than a year.
Contrary to the impression held by most mortals, Baal was an easygoing deity.
Her exquisite face was identical to Beelzebul's. Only their eyes differed. Ei's were cool and earnest, like the clearest violet lake; Makoto's were gentle and beguiling, like the last snow melting beneath the warm sun of early spring.
"I'm trying to come up with a recipe," Kiyono Raimei said thoughtfully. "Beelzebul—Her Excellency Raiden Ei—does not seem to care for food. I want to create something she could fall in love with."
"Oh?" Makoto lightly twirled the paper parasol. "So the young man wants to make her fall in love?"
"...Please do not phrase it in such a misleading way," Kiyono Raimei immediately protested.
"Oh-ho."
Makoto tilted her head again, her beautiful violet hair falling across one shoulder.
"So she does not appreciate you?"
"...That is true." Kiyono Raimei sighed. "Her Excellency Raiden Ei seems entirely uninterested in mortal food. To be honest, she has always found me rather tiresome."
"Would you like my help?" Makoto blinked her lovely eyes. "With the recipe."
"Yours?"
Kiyono Raimei was not merely surprised. He was almost alarmed.
"But you are Narukami. You have official affairs. You govern all of Inazuma..."
"I actually have very little to do."
Raiden Makoto lowered her paper parasol and sat beside Kiyono Raimei. Even the way she settled herself was elegant. She slipped off her wooden sandals and placed her feet, clad in traditional white tabi, neatly together.
"Let me find something to occupy myself."
"Is Inazuma truly that peaceful?" Kiyono Raimei was stunned by Narukami's brazen neglect of her duties.
Were gods always this idle?
"That is a good thing." Makoto turned to look at him, thin and mellow sunlight warming the side of her face. "So, what do you intend to make?"
"I am quite confident in my cooking."
The revered deity rolled up her long sleeves and bared her smooth, pale wrists, looking ready to undertake some grand endeavor.
"I don't know," Kiyono Raimei admitted frankly.
"Let me think... Hmm."
Makoto looked thoughtful.
"What about something sweet? Dango would be delicious. I... Mm, Ei likes dango. Yes. And milk—we should flavor it with milk. Ei will certainly love it. Let's make that."
"That's right. I know Ei. She loves sweets."
As she described the dessert, sunlight pooled in her gentle, languid eyes. A faint smile touched her lips, and she licked them lightly, like a cat lounging in the sun while imagining the taste of dried fish.
No matter how one looked at her, she did not resemble a divine ruler in the slightest.
"Your Excellency," Kiyono Raimei said gravely, "aren't dango and milk simply the things you want to eat?"
"Eh?" Makoto's eyes widened. "You saw through me."
"You only want me to make it for you, don't you?"
"I do."
Makoto nodded and confessed her intentions without the slightest shame.
"Young man, you are a genius in the kitchen. You created Kiyono Tofu, so naturally I became curious what sort of dessert you could create from milk and dango."
"Would you consider changing professions?" Her expression became serious. "Rather than spending your entire life as Ei's retainer, why not become my cook?"
Kiyono Raimei gave a helpless, wry smile.
"I can teach you," Makoto said with a confident nod.
She smiled once more. Pure-white sakura framed that warm and beautiful smile.
"We can work on it together."
I can teach you.
"Will Ei really like milk and dango?"
"Well, I like dango, and Ei does not dislike milk."
Raiden Makoto rested her cheek upon one hand. Dappled sunlight slipped through the gaps between the leaves as Kiyono Raimei listened to her.
"Young man, let's make a dessert someone could fall in love with."
...
Winter passed, and then half the spring disappeared in just this fashion.
Their days were simple. Kiyono practiced the sword with Ei until dusk, then finished his duties and experimented with Makoto in the kitchen.
Combining milk with dango sounded like a fine idea. Putting it into practice was far more difficult. The amount of sugar and the time spent in the steamer had to be tested little by little.
"Burned," Makoto said. "Ei will not like it."
"Oh, all right. I'll try again tomorrow."
...
"Far too rich. Ei will hate it."
"I'll improve it at once."
...
"How does this batch taste, Makoto?"
"...Rich and burned. Ei will not like it."
...
"And this one?"
"...Why don't you taste it?"
"I would rather not." Kiyono Raimei hurriedly waved both hands.
"This is an order from Narukami. Aah—" Makoto pinched the little confection between her pale fingers and held it to Kiyono Raimei's lips. Her smile was like the sakura overhead. "Open up. Aah!"
"Is it good?"
"...Ei will not like it."
...
The rest of spring passed in tasting and revision.
Ei will not like it.
Too burned.
Impossible to chew.
The early sakura eventually gave way to crimson foliage. The days began to shorten, and autumn light, clear as water, spread across the courtyard of Tenshukaku.
Kiyono Raimei slowly released a breath. He had never been so nervous. His violet eyes remained fixed upon the woman before him.
After countless attempts, he had finally completed the dessert.
Makoto raised one long sleeve to partly hide her face as she took a small bite. She chewed carefully, her eyes narrowing as though savoring the flavor.
"What do you think?" Kiyono Raimei asked. "Will Ei like it?"
"Mm."
Makoto raised her eyes and tilted her head at him.
"I don't know whether Ei will like it."
"I see."
"But I like it." Makoto looked at the boy. "I think it is very good."
"Then I'll take some to Ei." Kiyono Raimei eagerly lifted the food box. He had only just turned when he felt a gentle tug upon his collar.
He lowered his eyes to Makoto.
"If Ei likes it..." Lonely autumn sunlight lay across Makoto's face like still water. She looked at him earnestly. "Will you still make it for me?"
"Or perhaps Ei will not like it. No matter what you do, food may never make her happy." Makoto tilted her head, autumn pools reflected in her eyes. "Will you become my cook? Milk and dango—which do you like more?"
"No matter which of those things happens..." Kiyono Raimei paused, then answered with equal seriousness. "I will still make it for you, Makoto. I will always be your cook."
"Promise?"
"Promise. One question, though—what should we call this dessert?"
"Dango Milk," Makoto said. "Ei likes milk, and I love dango. This way, both milk and dango will always be there."
"Dango Milk... Very well. Dango Milk it is."
—
When Kiyo Seigan awoke from the dream, he felt an icy pain deep within his organs. The tangled visions still lingered in the depths of his mind.
He released Kamigiri, which he had been gripping tightly all this time. The dreams and phantoms vanished.
Hah... Hah.
He slowly exhaled.
Stories had been engraved within Kamigiri. He had noticed nothing unusual while in Liyue or Mondstadt, but from the moment he stepped onto Inazuman soil, the sword had begun to stir.
That stirring was not entirely a bad thing. The tempering Kamigiri had put him through had brought astonishing improvements to both his technique and his body.
Kiyo looked at the system panel before him.
[Kiyo Seigan]
[Steps of Ascension: Second Step]
[Lv. 50]
After he unleashed that slash, his body had broken through along with it. His level had leapt by more than ten in succession, carrying him directly to Level 50.
But it was another line of text that made his eyes widen.
[Twelfth Covenant: Go to Musou Isshin]
[Reward: One seed]
This Covenant actually offered a reward.
And what was Musou Isshin?
Kiyo Seigan was thoroughly bewildered.
He struggled upright. Every part of his body ached, but the wounds that had torn open were already healed. He flexed his wrists and found that nothing was seriously wrong anymore.
He had no idea how long he had slept. One day? Two?
Kiyo patted his cheeks and tried to clear his head. He rose somewhat unsteadily and pushed open the wooden door.
Brilliant sunlight struck him full in the face. He narrowed his eyes against its harsh glare.
Then he paused.
Someone had embraced him from behind.
The girl's body was warm and soft, but her strength was terrifying. Kiyo's face turned blue beneath the crushing grip. He could scarcely breathe.
"Chiyo?" Kiyo managed to turn his head, his expression openly pleading. "...You're going to kill me."
Mikoshi Chiyo raised her eyes and stared at him with stubborn intensity. Her nose twitched as she tested his scent.
Only after a long while did she release him.
Following one Nuo Exorcism treatment, Chiyo's condition had already improved considerably. A few more might restore her reason completely.
"Where are we?" Kiyo asked her.
Then he shook his head, rejecting the idea himself. Of course silly Chiyo would not know the answer.
The buildings around him were ancient and weathered. A great pine stood before the courtyard, its dense branches woven across the sky. Afternoon light shone through the autumn air and turned every puddle in the courtyard bright and clear.
"The Pillar General's mansion," someone answered.
Kiyo turned around.
The valiant Miss Kiyono Sara was walking toward him.
"This is the Pillar General's residence—the safest place in all Inazuma," she said with solemn pride. "Not even the Fatui can enter. They would not dare set foot here, so please be at ease."
So that was where they were.
Kiyo nodded.
Perhaps they were safe for the time being.
In some respects, the Pillar General's mansion held the same standing as Tenshukaku. Intruding upon either place would have only one result: the offender would enrage Her Excellency Narukami and end up split in two by a single slash.
For now, at least, they had escaped danger.
He needed to find some way to contact Lumine as soon as possible. He could not let her keep worrying.
"Where are you going now?" Kiyo asked, looking at Kiyono Sara's samurai uniform. "Aren't you staying at the mansion? And where is Teppei?"
"That young man has been enlisted among the Pillar General's household troops. You will see him later."
"This humble one must report to Tenshukaku."
Kiyono Sara answered with complete seriousness. She was indeed Kiyono Raimei's adopted daughter—even her habit of referring to herself was identical to his in his youth.
"This humble one is the Shogun's personal retainer and cannot neglect her duty."
The Shogun...
Ei?
If Sara was her personal retainer, then she was one of the people closest to the Shogun.
Kiyo's eyes suddenly lit up.
"Could you do me a favor?"
"Yes," Kiyono Sara answered immediately.
Only after the word left her mouth did she find her own response strange. For some reason, she found it difficult to refuse any request from the young man before her.
"Please deliver a letter for me."
Kiyo reached into the inner fold of his kimono and took out the letter he had prepared long ago—the invitation.
He handed it to Kiyono Sara.
"Please give it to Her Excellency Narukami."
"...Very well."
Kiyono Sara accepted the envelope with a complicated expression. Her brows drew faintly together.
"But..."
"But?"
"The Shogun has ordered that all paper documents be refused, including letters." Kiyono Sara hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. "Of course, I will see that it reaches her. But... it will serve no purpose."
"I see." Kiyo smiled bitterly and considered it for a moment. "Still, I have to try, don't I? I'm counting on you."
"I will do everything I can."
Kiyono Sara nodded with her customary precision. She was about to leave, but before departing to make her report at Tenshukaku, she gave Kiyo one final message.
"My grandfather is waiting for you at the Pillar General's mansion."
—
Chinju Forest.
Puppets could be injured too.
When two Harbingers fought, neither side could emerge unscathed.
There was one difference between Kunikuzushi and La Signora: he had initiated the conflict. Because of his interference, La Signora's mission had been obstructed, and the bearer of the Gnosis had escaped.
His actions gravely violated the Fatui's oath. They had also broken the laws of Snezhnaya.
Snezhnaya had never possessed anything resembling mercy. His actions were judged a betrayal, and so the badly damaged puppet was now being hunted by Fatui soldiers, just like Kiyo Seigan.
He was alone again.
Only himself.
Wandering Inazuma with nowhere to return to, just as he had centuries ago.
Because of some inexplicable obsession, he had thrown away his chance to possess a Gnosis.
Why?
Why had he done something so foolish?
Kunikuzushi did not know.
Why had he needed to learn where that heart came from?
He had attacked La Signora merely to pursue an answer that should have meant nothing. That was entirely unlike him.
Meaningless things disgusted him more than anything.
Calculate shrewdly. Plan meticulously. Execute without mercy. Then watch foolish mortals twist in pain.
That was Kunikuzushi.
That was his true nature.
Any means were acceptable if they achieved his purpose.
So when had he become as foolish as those mortals?
He had suffered three betrayals, and no one had ever saved him.
From beginning to end, he had been nothing more than a tool. A puppet used by everyone around him. Ei had created him as an experiment. Kiyono Raimei had used him, then died and abandoned him. And in the end, even the Fatui had cast him aside.
A vast hole had been torn through his chest. Cryo raged within the wound, sending wave after wave of agony through his body.
Lonely autumn light lay across the somber forest. When he grew too tired to continue, he simply stopped.
He leaned against a dead birch and lowered his eyes. Not far away, firelight blazed. The pursuing Fatui were already drawing close, but Kunikuzushi could no longer be bothered to flee.
His head remained bowed as he murmured to himself:
"Tell me. Why did that heart beat?"
"That heart came from Kiyono Fugin."
"And it also came from Kiyono Raimei."
A girl's cool voice suddenly sounded behind him.
Kunikuzushi looked back. The figure of a blonde girl was reflected in his eyes.
Lumine slowly emerged from the shadows.
At her words, Kunikuzushi's eyes widened faintly.
"When La Signora killed him..." Lumine's golden eyes trembled. "He entrusted that heart to her and asked her to give it to you."
"Impossible. Another lie." Kunikuzushi stared at Lumine, a bleak smile upon his lips. "You are deceiving me too. You want to use me against La Signora. It is a lie—that old thing died long ago."
"Yes, he died long ago. Kiyono Raimei and Kiyono Fugin both did."
Lumine looked directly at him and took out a slip of paper.
"This is the last testament he left behind. I do need your help, but I have not deceived you."
Kunikuzushi paused, then accepted the paper.
It was made from two layers.
Upon the first was written:
[I buried a barrel of hundred-year-old beer under the big pine tree in the courtyard of the Pillar General's mansion. Remember to retrieve it.]
It was the old man's handwriting.
His manner of speaking too.
Kunikuzushi had exchanged letters with him year after year. He knew that handwriting extremely well.
Handwriting could be forged.
But the emotion that rose within him at the sight of those words could not.
Emotion could never be forged.
"Idiot..." He pinched one corner of the note and cursed with habitual cruelty. "Thinking about alcohol even when he was about to die... No wonder he died so young."
He paused, then peeled back the second layer.