Inazuma, Narukami Island.
"Hurry, hurry! If we're late, all the good spots will be gone!" A cheerful little girl urged excitedly.
"Yaya, slow down. It's still early—the sun hasn't even come up yet," her father said, slightly out of breath as he carried a heavy load on his back.
"It's not early at all! If we wait any longer, we'll only get stuck at the edge!" Yaya, clearly familiar with the place, pulled impatiently at his sleeve.
As they spoke, more people appeared along the road, lugging bags and baskets of all sizes.
"Dad, come on! They're taking all the good spots!" Yaya grabbed her father's hand and hurried ahead. Seeing this, the others quickened their pace too, heading toward that lively, dreamlike grove.
This was no ordinary festival—it was so special that even before sunrise, people from Watatsumi Island and Yashiori Island were already sailing toward Narukami Island.
Every face carried a bright smile. In their hands were bundles of food prepared for the day and simple paper games to pass the time.
Members of the Tenryou Commission had arrived even earlier, stationed at the docks. When the ships from Yashiori Island came in, they greeted the passengers with polite smiles.
"Happy festival!" called the people stepping off the boats, addressing the shogunate guards first.
"Happy festival to you too. You've come quite early," one of the soldiers replied, smiling faintly.
"Of course! We were late last year and lost all the good spots. This time, we had to come early," one of the men said with a laugh.
"Even if you don't make it into the cherry blossom grove, there's still plenty of fun to be had on Narukami Island," a guard remarked.
"True, but we want to be there to welcome that Lord," an elderly man said kindly.
At those words, the soldier froze for a moment before his smile deepened, pride swelling quietly within him.
Since that great battle, among Inazuma's three Commissions, the Tenryou Commission had become the hardest to join.
No matter how strict the exams grew, countless people still tried year after year. Some had even attempted the assessment four times in a row—never passing, but still promising to return the next day.
Each year, the number of applicants for the Tenryou Commission was more than double that of the other two combined.
Aside from the Raiden Shogun herself, the Tenryou Commission held the greatest authority in all of Inazuma. Every member had passed through the most demanding trials and evaluations.
And the reason behind this devotion traced back to the first Head of the Tenryou Commission—Sasayuri. Alone, he had faced and destroyed the monstrous horde that threatened to swallow the seas. That disaster had been carried on his shoulders alone.
His heroism was engraved deeply in the hearts of all Inazuma's people.
Since then, a statue of Sasayuri had stood within the cherry blossom grove. The statue's single arm held a gleaming blade, and his lifelike eyes seemed to radiate both gentleness and unyielding resolve.
Every year, when the cherry blossoms bloomed, Zebul, Kitsune Saiguu, Chiyo, Yae Miko, and Baal would gather beneath that statue.
At first, it was only the five of them. But as people began to notice, more and more joined in. Eventually, it became one of Inazuma's grandest festivals.
Despite its joy, two unspoken taboos governed the grove.
First: play as much as you like, but not a single piece of trash may be left behind.
Second: never speak ill of Sasayuri—no slander, no mockery.
These weren't rules decreed by Zebul or the Tenryou Commission; they were rules held in the hearts of every Inazuman.
Once, a family of outsiders came to enjoy the cherry blossom festival. They littered carelessly and, when caught, refused to clean up—acting even more brazenly instead.
They were soon beaten half to death by the crowd and thrown out of the grove together with their garbage.
Another time, a visitor mocked Sasayuri's sacrifice, claiming that losing an arm was foolish and that he should have simply left the fight to the Raiden Shogun.
He met the same fate as the first offender—except his swollen face and mouth were proof of a more thorough beating.
Zebul knew of these incidents but didn't intervene, nor did the Tenryou Commission. Both silently approved.
Because of their positions, they couldn't act directly—but the harsher the mob's response, the more satisfied they felt.
And so, these two unwritten rules became law.
As the morning sun rose, the cherry blossom grove filled with people.
Besides the lunches everyone brought, there were locals who came just to share food: rice balls, sushi, handmade drinks, sweet dumplings… all freely given, shared with laughter among friends.
At that moment, Kitsune Saiguu, Zebul, Chiyo, Yae Miko, and Baal stepped into the grove. Passersby greeted them warmly, and they returned every smile.
They made their way through the crowd to the center—beneath Sasayuri's statue—and spread out their picnic blanket. It was their reserved spot. No matter how crowded the grove became, this place always remained clear and open.
"Hehe! We're back! Did you miss us?"
Yae Miko grinned and patted the statue, as though greeting Elliot himself.
Beside her, Kitsune Saiguu lit a bonfire at their usual spot and set water to boil. When it was ready, she poured a cup of tea and placed it at Elliot's spot.
"Try this—I made these sugar-coated hawthorns myself."
Smiling softly, Zebul placed a skewer beside Elliot's place.
"Oh, right! I made stewed meat soup for you too—almost forgot," said Chiyo, scratching her head as she opened her lunchbox and set down a steaming bowl.
Baal laid out all the bento boxes, leaving a small empty space in the center of the blanket.
When everything was ready, Kitsune Saiguu pulled out a set of karuta cards.
"Same rules as always—the winner gets to choose what to eat, and the loser just gets to watch," she said, skillfully arranging the cards.
"This year, I'm definitely going to win!" Zebul rolled up his sleeves, ready for battle.
"You said that last year too, and didn't get a single bite," Yae Miko teased.
"That's not true! I got one bite!" Zebul shot back immediately.
"That was only because Baal felt sorry for you," Chiyo said with a quiet laugh behind her hand.
"Ahhhh! I'm not listening! I'm definitely winning this year!" Zebul clamped her hands over her ears, shaking her head furiously to block out their teasing.
They played karuta here every year, and every year, Zebul lost the worst.
But...
Before Elliot passed away, when they used to play together, he was always the one who lost. Back then, Zebul managed to win a few rounds—and a few bites of food.
After his death, she never won again. Every year since, she had been mercilessly teased by Chiyo and the others.
"Miko, Baal, you two go first," said Kitsune Saiguu as she finished arranging the cards.
"Alright!"
And so, the lively, thrilling game of karuta began.
A faint, flickering figure seemed to appear among them—Elliot, smiling softly as he took a quiet sip of tea and watched them play in silence.