RITOU PORT - KANJOU COMMISSION HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT
The conference room was thick with pipe smoke and tension.
Commissioner Hiiragi Shinsuke sat at the head of the table, his weathered face illuminated by lamplight as he reviewed the latest intelligence reports. Around him, his senior officials waited—administrators, customs inspectors, security chiefs—all wearing expressions that ranged from concerned to calculating.
"Let me ensure I understand the situation correctly," Hiiragi said slowly, setting down the report. "A foreign national from Mondstadt—a child, no less—will arrive at our port tomorrow morning carrying a cursed artifact that has already caused catastrophic damage in Liyue. The Jade Chamber fell because of this curse. A death occurred. And the Yashiro Commission expects us to simply... allow her entry?"
"Commissioner Ayato has provided substantial diplomatic incentives," one official noted carefully. "The gifts alone are worth—"
"I'm aware of the gifts." Hiiragi's voice was sharp. "I'm also aware that gifts are not policy. The Kanjou Commission exists to protect Inazuma's borders from external threats. A cursed child carrying a dangerous artifact is precisely the kind of threat we're mandated to prevent."
"The Raiden Shogun herself intervened in the Konda Village incident," another official pointed out. "She ordered the commissions to stand down and allow the Yashiro Commission to handle curse resolution. Defying that order would be—"
"Would be interpreting our mandate creatively," Hiiragi finished. "The Shogun ordered the Tenryou Commission to withdraw from Yoimiya's arrest. She did not order the Kanjou Commission to facilitate the entry of dangerous foreign artifacts. There is a difference."
The officials exchanged glances. They knew that tone. That was the tone of a man who'd found a loophole and intended to exploit it.
"What are you proposing, Commissioner?" the security chief asked.
Hiiragi leaned forward, his fingers steepled. "The Kanjou Commission will allow the child to dock at Ritou. We will conduct standard customs inspection. And during that inspection, we will identify the cursed artifact as contraband—which it legally is under Inazuman supernatural materials regulations. We will confiscate it. Immediately."
"And if she resists? If touching the necklace triggers the curse?"
"Then we subdue her before contact occurs. Tranquilizer darts. Weighted nets. Immobilization techniques that don't require touching the artifact directly." Hiiragi's expression was cold.
"The girl is eight years old. Subduing her should not be difficult. Once unconscious, we remove the necklace—carefully, with proper tools and protective equipment—and contain it in a sealed chamber for examination and eventual destruction."
"That will create a diplomatic incident with Mondstadt," someone warned.
"Perhaps. But it will also eliminate a clear threat to Inazuman security. And when the dust settles, Mondstadt will understand we acted to protect our nation from a dangerous artifact their own knights failed to control." Hiiragi stood. "The Yashiro Commission can posture about cultural protection all they want. The Kanjou Commission has jurisdiction at the border. And we will exercise that jurisdiction tomorrow morning."
"What about the Raiden Shogun?"
"The Shogun ordered curse resolution. We are resolving it—by removing the cursed artifacts from both bearers. It's efficient, direct, and doesn't risk further supernatural incidents."
Hiiragi's smile was thin. "Sometimes the best solution is the simplest one. Confiscate. Contain. Destroy. No curse, no problem."
"And Yoimiya? She still wears the matching necklace."
"Once the Mondstadt child's necklace is secured, we'll coordinate with the Tenryou Commission for Yoimiya's. Present it as a joint operation—Kanjou providing border security expertise, Tenryou providing law enforcement support. Even the Yashiro Commission can't argue with two commissions working together to eliminate a supernatural threat."
The officials nodded slowly. It was risky. It would anger the Kamisatos. But it was also technically legal, strategically sound, and—most importantly—would remove the cursed artifacts from circulation before they caused more destruction.
"Prepare the special containment team," Hiiragi ordered. "Triple the guard at the customs dock. I want archers with tranquilizer-tipped arrows, net launchers, and full restraint equipment. The moment that ship docks, we move. Fast, efficient, and with overwhelming force. Understood?"
"Yes, Commissioner!"
The officials dispersed to their preparations, leaving Hiiragi alone in the conference room. He poured himself sake, looking out the window toward the dark ocean.
Somewhere out there, a ship was bringing a cursed child to his port. Tomorrow, he would prove that the Kanjou Commission was more than just tax collectors and paper pushers. Tomorrow, he would eliminate a threat.
And if it upset the other commissions? Well, that was politics. And Hiiragi Shinsuke had been playing politics for thirty years.
He drank his sake and smiled.
KAMISATO ESTATE - GUEST QUARTERS - NIGHT
The room was peaceful in the way only traditional Inazuman architecture could achieve—sliding paper doors that filtered moonlight into soft glow, tatami mats that smelled faintly of fresh grass, the distant sound of water from the estate's gardens.
Yoimiya lay on a futon that was far more comfortable than anything she'd slept on in days, but sleep wouldn't come. Her body was exhausted. Her mind raced.
Tomorrow. Klee would arrive tomorrow.
After everything—the curse, the pain, the weeks of separation, the journey across nations—they would finally see each other again. Finally be in the same place at the same time. Finally have a chance to break this curse that had bound them together in suffering.
What will I say to her? Yoimiya wondered, staring at the ceiling. How do I explain what she means to me when I don't fully understand it myself?
The necklace pulsed against her chest, warm and alive. She touched it gently, feeling the steady rhythm.
Are you sleeping, Klee? Or are you awake like me, too nervous to rest? Can you feel me thinking about you? Do you know how close we are now?
A small sound at her door. Yoimiya sat up quickly, alert—but it was just the children.
Saika, Matsuzaka, and Iwao crept into the room, moving with exaggerated stealth that was more adorable than effective. Behind them, trying to look casual, members of the Arataki Gang stood guard in the hallway.
"We're supposed to be sleeping," Matsuzaka whispered. "But we couldn't. So we thought... maybe we could stay with you? Make sure you're okay?"
Yoimiya's chest tightened with affection. "Come here, all of you."
They piled onto her futon without hesitation, curling up around her like puppies seeking warmth. Saika grabbed Yoimiya's hand. Iwao leaned against her shoulder. Matsuzaka positioned himself at her feet like a guardian.
"We're scared," Saika admitted quietly. "What if tomorrow doesn't work? What if the curse doesn't break? What if something bad happens?"
"Then we'll deal with it," Yoimiya said gently. "Like we always do. But I don't think something bad will happen. I think... I think tomorrow is going to be the start of something good. Something really good."
"Because Klee's coming," Iwao said.
Yoimiya confirmed with nod
"Do you love her?" Matsuzaka asked suddenly. "Like, really love her?"
Yoimiya blinked. "That's... that's a complicated question."
"Not really," Matsuzaka said with the blunt honesty of children. "Either you do or you don't. And if you do, you should tell her. That's what breaks curses in all the stories. Saying how you really feel."
"She's eight years old," Yoimiya protested weakly.
"So? She's still a person. And she made a huge journey to reach you. That means something. Something important." Matsuzaka's expression was serious beyond his years. "Adults always make feelings complicated. But they're not. You care about someone or you don't. You want them in your life or you don't. You're willing to fight for them or you're not. It's simple."
"When did you get so wise?" Yoimiya asked with a watery laugh.
"I read a lot," Matsuzaka said matter-of-factly.
They settled into comfortable silence, the children's breathing gradually evening out as exhaustion caught up with them. Yoimiya held them close, drawing comfort from their presence.
Outside her door, the Arataki Gang maintained their vigil—Mamoru and Genta playing cards quietly, Akira standing watch at the hallway's end. They'd insisted on protecting Yoimiya personally, not trusting estate guards alone.
And somewhere deeper in the estate, in a room designed for strategic conversations, three men sat around a low table, sake between them, discussing the person who'd orchestrated this entire disaster.
KAMISATO ESTATE - PRIVATE STUDY - SAME TIME
"The Lady Guuji," Ayato said, pouring sake into three cups with precise movements, "has always been... difficult to predict."
"That's a diplomatic way of saying she's chaos incarnate," Thoma replied, accepting his cup. "I've lived in Inazuma long enough to know that when Yae Miko gets involved in something, it usually means someone's about to have a very interesting and very frustrating experience."
"She cursed two children," Itto said bluntly, not bothering with diplomatic language. "That's not chaos. That's mean. The one and oni doesn't approve of being mean to kids."
"Neither do I," Ayato agreed. "Which is why I'm documenting everything about this incident. When it's resolved—assuming it resolves favorably—I intend to present the Guuji with a formal request for explanation. And compensation."
"Good luck with that," Thoma muttered. "Yae Miko doesn't apologize. She smiles mysteriously and says it was all part of some grand plan we mortals couldn't possibly understand."
Ayato's expression was thoughtful. "The interesting thing is, it was planned. The curse is sophisticated—too sophisticated to be casual mischief. The necklaces were crafted specifically, with precise magical parameters. This wasn't impulse. This was deliberate."
"But why?" Itto asked. "What's the point of making two kids suffer like this?"
"I've been thinking about that," Thoma said. "And I remembered something from the Irodori Festival. When Klee was here. There was a light novel writing contest, remember? The kids were supposed to write stories, and some of them were published in Yae Publishing House's special edition."
"I remember," Ayato said. "Yoimiya helped several children with their submissions. She was quite enthusiastic about encouraging their creativity."
"Right. Well, I helped organize the collection of manuscripts, and I saw one of them—Klee's story. It was about her adventure with the Traveler and Paimon during the festival. And there was this one section..." Thoma pulled out a small notebook, flipping to a marked page. "I copied part of it because it was surprisingly poignant for a child's writing. Let me read it to you."
He cleared his throat and read:
"The best part of the festival wasn't the big fireworks or the poetry contest or even getting to use REALLY BIG bombs (though that was super cool). The best part was meeting Yoimiya. She didn't treat me like I was too little or too loud or too explosive. She just... got it. Got me. When I'm in Mondstadt, everyone's always saying 'Klee, be careful' or 'Klee, that's too dangerous' or 'Klee, go to solitary confinement.' But Yoimiya said 'Klee, let's make the biggest fireworks ever!' and that made me feel like I could fly."
"Paimon says that's what real friends do—make you feel like you can fly. The Traveler smiled and nodded (the Traveler doesn't talk much but that's okay). I asked if I could come back to Inazuma someday and see Yoimiya again. They said maybe. But I hope it's not maybe. I hope it's definitely. Because I think Yoimiya might be my best friend in the whole world, even though I only knew her for a few days. Is that weird? Can someone be your best friend that fast?"
"Dodoco says no, it's not weird. Dodoco says some people are just meant to be friends, and you know it right away. Like how bombs know they want to explode—it's just what they're meant to do. And maybe me and Yoimiya are meant to be friends. Meant to make big explosions together. Meant to make people happy with fireworks and adventures."
"I'm gonna miss her a lot when we leave tomorrow. My chest already feels heavy thinking about it. But I'm gonna write her letters! So many letters! And maybe she'll write back! And maybe someday I'll come back to Inazuma and we'll have another adventure!"
Thoma lowered the notebook. "That was submitted to the festival judges. And you know who was head judge for the light novel category?"
"Yae Miko," Ayato said quietly.
"Exactly. She read this. She saw how much Klee cared about Yoimiya. How deep that connection went despite only knowing each other briefly." Thoma set down his cup. "What if the curse wasn't malicious? What if it was... a test? A way to force them to confront how much they mean to each other? To make that connection impossible to ignore or downplay?"
"By causing them pain?" Itto's voice was skeptical. "That's a terrible test!"
"But an effective one," Ayato said slowly. "Think about it. If Yae Miko simply told Klee and Yoimiya 'you have a special bond, you should acknowledge it,' they'd have dismissed it. Klee would have gone home to Mondstadt. They'd have exchanged letters for a while, then drifted apart as people do. The connection would have faded. But the curse? The curse made the bond impossible to ignore. Made them think about each other constantly. Made Klee cross two nations. Made Yoimiya willing to hide from authorities. It forced them to ask: how much does this person mean to me? Enough to suffer? Enough to sacrifice? Enough to risk everything?"
"That's still mean!" Itto insisted.
"It is," Ayato agreed. "Extraordinarily mean. Also extraordinarily effective. If—and this is still an if—if they break the curse tomorrow, if they emerge from this experience with their bond strengthened rather than destroyed, then Yae Miko will claim vindication. She'll say the curse revealed truth. Forced growth. Created something beautiful from something painful."
"Do you believe that?" Thoma asked.
Ayato was quiet for a long moment, considering. "I think Yae Miko is eight hundred years old and sees humans as entertaining puppets to be moved around for her amusement. I think she identified two souls with genuine connection and decided to experiment—to see if that connection could survive being tested to its absolute limits. And I think she has no remorse for the suffering she's caused, because to her, the end result is all that matters."
"Then she's a monster," Itto said.
"She's a kitsune," Ayato corrected. "Which is close to the same thing. But she's also the Raiden Shogun's familiar and the head of the Grand Narukami Shrine. Confronting her directly is... diplomatically complex."
"So she just gets away with it?" Thoma's voice rose slightly. "She curses two kids, causes destruction across three nations, and faces no consequences?"
"I didn't say that." Ayato's smile was sharp. "I said direct confrontation is complex. But there are other ways to express displeasure. The Yashiro Commission controls festival contracts. The Grand Narukami Shrine depends on those contracts for their largest ceremonies. If I were to suggest to my fellow commissioners that perhaps we should diversify our spiritual service providers..." He let the implication hang.
"Political revenge," Thoma said. "That's very you."
"I prefer 'appropriate consequences delivered through proper channels,'" Ayato replied. "But yes. If Yae Miko wants to play games with people under Yashiro protection, she'll learn that games have costs. Even for eight-hundred-year-old kitsune."
"What if the curse doesn't break tomorrow?" Itto asked quietly. "What if they fail? What if Klee gets hurt or Yoimiya—" He couldn't finish.
"But I don't think they'll fail." Ayato said "I've watched Yoimiya these past days. Seen how she touches that necklace, how her expression softens when someone mentions Klee's name. And Klee—a child who crossed two nations alone, survived treasure hoarders and the destruction of the Jade Chamber, refused to give up despite every obstacle—that's not someone who fails. Not at something this important."
"Love conquers all?" Thoma's tone was gently mocking.
"Connection conquers isolation," Ayato corrected. "Which is just as powerful and significantly less sentimental. Now—" He refilled their cups. "—let's discuss tomorrow's logistics. Klee arrives at dawn. The Kanjou Commission will attempt to interfere—Hiiragi Shinsuke is predictable in his desire to assert border control authority. We need contingencies."
"I'm already stationed at Ritou as Yashiro representative," Thoma said. "I'll be at the dock when The Alcor arrives. If anyone tries to detain Klee, they'll have to go through me first."