Chapter Text
The archon’s servant–her friend , one might even say–that’s who Yae Miko was to Inazuma’s god. Nothing more, nothing less.
The days where there was once something more had long passed. Centuries too late, their relationship is muddy at best, and irreparable most times.
Yae Miko harbors no ill will towards her god, truly. She has no hatred nor anger in her heart, for time had already healed those wounds. They’ve left scars, untreated by the one who caused them. Time had mended her hurt before Ei could. Miko thinks that’s precisely why her heart won’t allow itself to be held in the hands of the divine being she treasures the most once more.
The familiar bond they swore to each other is still there, faintly pulsing throughout her body. It first brought her comfort and security, then came the constant reminder of being left behind, and now… now it’s a lot more complex. She wonders if Ei can feel it too, like a string of fate that ties them together.
As Yae Miko strolls along the busy streets of Inazuma, she frees her mind from the troubles that have plagued her since Ei’s return from Makoto’s realm of consciousness. She is here to relax, take a break from shrine duties and the publishing house, and entertain herself with the discourse on the local bulletin boards.
To her surprise, there is a small crowd gathered at the board next to the stream that runs through the city. Hushed whispers quieten as they see her approach.
“Lady Guuji…'' one of the citizens whispered apprehensively.
“Hm, is something the matter? Did the squabble between that bird general and that overgrown beetle boy finally come to a peak?” Yae dons her playful smile, as always.
The crowd stays silent and parts to let her read the news for herself. Most of the people show barely restrained fright, while a few show ire at her presence. Those who show disdain seem to share a look with each other, glancing back at the notice on the board, and nodding before leaving the premises.
There, dead center on the board and covering the other announcements read:
SEIZE THE SHRINE!
The Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine is downright blasphemous! We cannot allow her to be at the forefront of worshipping our Almighty Narukami Ogosho! We citizens are tired of your terrorizing! Oust Yae Miko!
(Below the large text is a list of “offenses” Yae Miko has committed against the shogunate and Inazumans)
Ridiculous. Miko’s playful expression falls into contempt. When she tears her eyes off the notice, the crowd avoids her stare, scrambling away. All leave except for two familiar faces, Shigeru and Junkichi, who stay rooted in place as if she would pounce on them if they moved a muscle.
“What is the meaning of this,” she demands sternly. Her voice lacks its characteristic teasing lilt.
The two look at each other, and Junkichi speaks up after Shigeru elbows him. “U-Um, there seems to be a protest? A-Against you.” He gulps. “Some people uh, disapprove of your methods, and would, um, like to, maybe, not have you as the Head Priestess anymore, ma’am.”
None had ever opposed her before. Not once in the last five centuries did one soul become brave enough to go against her. They knew of her connections to the Archon, though they lacked the nuance to understand it. The people of the past respected her and sometimes feared her. Now that their god has changed her mind on the vision hunt decree, do they think they can sway her to do their bidding? How outlandish.
Yae Miko rips off the parchment from where it's pinned, crumpling the paper in her grip, and marches to the tenshukaku.
The okuzumeshuu see her approaching with a frown. They do not question her as she barges in, slamming the doors to the shogun’s workroom open so hard that they bounce off the walls and close themselves.
Ei is immediately alarmed, disregarding the papers she was working on and standing as Miko approaches her desk.
Ei opens her mouth to speak, but she’s interrupted by Miko unfurling a piece of crumpled paper into her face. She has to step back to properly see what it says.
“...Seize the shrine?”
“Your people are protesting against me.”
Ei can clearly read the words and sees the list but is still confused. “What for?”
“I don’t know, existing? It’s childish, really.” Miko scoffs. “Tell me you won’t just allow them to slander my name like this? Avenge me,” she says teasingly, a little less upset now that Ei seems to agree with her on how ludicrous it all sounds.
Ei takes the paper into her hands and reads it more thoroughly. “Don’t get mad at me, but some of these are quite reasonable.”
“Are you serious?” Beneath the pride that hides her true feelings with a mask of haughtiness and confidence, a pang of hurt resonates in her chest at the thought of Ei trusting a group of strangers as opposed to her closest companion.
Ei sighs. She knows what she’ll say next will upset Miko. And she thinks over her words for a while before finally just letting them tumble out. “Yes. I’ve been reading over Inazuma’s new policies. And it is true that some of the actions listed here would be forms of libel against me, and should you be exempt from the laws that are against it, then it would be unfair to other Inazumans.” She scans the list once more. “It also states here that you’ve been using funds for ‘personal’ expenses. And though I don’t mind; what’s mine is yours. In my absence, it would be considered… theft? I think.”
“Ugh. Great.” Miko grumbles as she walks around Ei, sitting on her chair behind the desk. She slumps against it, sinking into the soft cushions as she pouts and ponders. “So what? Are they going to imprison me for 500 years worth of crimes against the shogun?”
“I would never let anyone harm you, Miko,” Ei states sincerely. “If anything, all the things stated here are far too light. Nothing has any lasting consequence. And if it were up to me, I’d ask you to enact a harsher punishment on me for my past actions.”
Miko’s heart quivers at the guilt lacing Ei’s words. Objectively, and by the general consensus of the citizens, her god is not wrong to think that. But, somehow, Ei’s contrition feels like her own. However, Yae Miko is sly, cunning, and cheeky, so instead of allowing herself to reassure Ei like what her heart desires, she smirks and says “I can think of a few things. Do you have a pen and paper? I think I’ll need a list.”
“Oh,” Ei bends down and shuffles through the drawers of her desk.
Miko catches her wrist before she opens the second drawer. “I’m kidding, darling. And I can remember my list just fine without writing it down.”
“Ah…” Ei goes to sit on the armrest of the chair, looking around awkwardly. “Oops.” There’s a lull in the conversation as they sit near each other. The silence is mostly comfortable, akin to redressing after a shower and the fabric sticks to damp skin, or the wrong ratio of rice to meat. Almost okay.
Suddenly, “Ei~!” Miko yells in complaint. She rubs her palms against her eyes and leans back dramatically, whining. She then grabs Ei by the arm and shakes her back and forth.
Ei copies the way Miko whines as she goes along with Miko’s weak pushing and pulling. “What?”
Miko leans her head against the arm she was shaking. “You’re not going to just let them get away with this, will you?”
“Of course not. Though they have the right to protest, I won’t let them take away your title. And I do not doubt that you’re capable of stopping them as well.”
“Ugh, I have so much work to do on top of shrine duties, and now this…” Miko mumbles in annoyance about all the things she needs to take care of. Her arms are crossed, and she hides the bottom half of her face in the high collar of her outfit, nearly sliding off the chair from how much she’s sunk into it. Her brows pinch together in anger as she stares off into space and grumbles.
“I’ll…” Ei trails off as she looks at Miko sulk. Her chair fits her own stature perfectly, but with Miko sitting on it, it seems all too large, too tall. She sits there awkwardly, still unsure of how close she can be to Miko. Where is the line drawn? The head priestess seems to be taking everything so well after Ei decided to entrust Inazuma to her and leave for the second time. Had it not been for the difference in the flow of spacetime, her absence would have been twice as long compared to when she left after the fall of the godless nation. Miko acts as if nothing happened, that she didn’t disappear for centuries without a word, that they never held each other close before disaster struck.
Miko looks at her expectantly, not moving an inch and merely looking up at Ei with her eyes.
“I’ll think of something,” she finishes.
The fox envoy huffs and stands to leave. “Don’t take another millennium.” Her tail appears for just a few seconds, brushing against Ei’s waist as she walks away.
Ei hums in response. She doesn’t know how to act around her anymore. Miko jokes about what happened in casual conversation, but she doesn’t know whether they’re just lighthearted jabs or mean something more. She can’t tell if she’s missing all the signs, if Miko is even sending her signs, or if it's just her own overthinking.
She hears the doors shut. Silence. The tenshukaku is suffocating. She sighs in frustration. Setting aside her work, she focuses on finding a solution to Miko’s dilemma. It’s the least she could do. She’s neglected her for so long. Not anymore, she vows to herself. Never again.
These days, she tries not to dwell on the past as often as she once did. No longer will bygones be her crutch. Ei tries to focus on the brighter side, focus on hope, and plans for the future. Yet no matter how hard she tries, she just can’t see past impending deadlines and diplomatic meetings. The future is fogged beyond timestamps on a calendar. When told to think about what’s to come… her mind draws a blank.
A blank on anything concerning personal aspirations anyway. During the short breaks she takes, in the onsen or having tea, her mind wanders to something pink. Soft, pastel pink, warm and familiar. And then it’s gone. She’s back in reality and there’s an aching in her chest she cannot describe. It’s an ache that isn’t grief but feels eerily similar to it. Like she’s lost something and her hands feel too empty.
Sorting through different files on Inazuman law, Ei busies herself with finding a solution to the protests against the head priestess. These thoughts can be dealt with later. She needs to help Miko first.
A day passes, and Miko watches Inazuma city from the Grand Narukami Shrine. Her shrine maidens look at her warily. Gossip spreads fast, especially when all you do is sweep, polish, and pray. She hates the glances of pity. She’d much rather see the fright in their eyes. Fear was an easy emotion to manage and manipulate from others. Pity is not something she needs or wants. Pity is for the lost, the abandoned, and the unwanted. Yae Miko is none of those.
Yae Miko is none of those, she repeats in her head, her confidence in those words wavering.
Before her thoughts sour her mood for the rest of the day, she spots a crow flying towards her with a letter tied to its ankle. It perches on her outstretched finger, and she unties the note. As she reads what’s written, she’s too stunned at the words to react when a fox spirit devours the bird.
Let’s hold a marriage ceremony for me and you.
Raiden Ei