Chapter 393: The Beginning
"Mei, Mei—my Mei, ehehe…"
Slip!
Sigurd hadn't lied—he really did look away at the inappropriate moment and didn't peek at Raiden Mei's body.
But the person beside him clearly had no such self-restraint.
In the spacious, comfortable office, Sigurd sat in his boss chair, one hand propping up his head, the other arm wrapped around the Bronya nestled in his lap, as he let out a weary sigh.
"Sigh…"
"Why are you sighing? Forget it, don't say anything yet. I need to save this scene properly. How can my Mei be this amazing? I can't handle it anymore!"
Kiana lay sprawled on the sofa outside his desk—wearing a breezy home camisole on top, and a skirt so short that the view facing Sigurd was… quite something. Her pale, slender legs kicked happily at the air as she giggled foolishly, even unconsciously wiping away drool.
Just like how otakus adore their 2D waifus—but no matter the obsession, it's still just liking, not love.
Kiana was the same. She had always been a face-con, and especially had zero resistance toward cute girls.
(If this was a Kaslana genetic problem, then… Kevin was clearly very proper, wasn't he?)
So… where exactly did things go wrong?
Sigurd once again questioned his own ability to educate children.
"Hehehe—eh!?"
Still giggling, Kiana suddenly froze as the projection in her hand turned into static.
"Ah! My photos and videos!"
"Idiot Kiana. Don't cause trouble for Sister Mei."
Bronya closed her command window and gave Kiana a deadpan dead-fish stare.
Kiana sat up, cheeks puffed in indignation as she glared at Bronya.
"What's it got to do with you!? Mei would never get mad at me! She treats me super well!"
"It's because she treats you too well that you keep pushing your luck. Kiana is exactly this kind of person—get pampered once, and she becomes completely unruly."
"Sig! Do something! She's bullying me!"
Kiana pointed at Bronya, whining in a spoiled tone.
Sigurd completely ignored her. He only stroked Bronya's head and said:
"Good job. Keep it up."
"Yes! Bronya will help Sigurd discipline Kiana properly!"
"Mhm. I believe in you."
"Then Bronya wants a reward."
Bronya tilted her head up, her clear crystalline eyes staring straight at Sigurd.
Sigurd's lips curved. He lifted her chin and gently kissed her forehead.
For someone with Kiana's explosive temper—how could she possibly endure watching this play out right in front of her?
"You damn shameless vixen—prepare to die!"
Fuming, she sprang up from the sofa, planted one foot on the wall, and used the recoil to launch herself like a tiger pounce toward the pair.
Then—Sigurd rose with Bronya in his arms, caught Kiana by the face with one hand, and lifted her straight into the air.
He raised his gaze, staring at her blankly.
Kiana kicked her legs helplessly, slapped weakly at his wrist, accomplishing absolutely nothing. With great difficulty, she squeezed out:
"Mfy fawt… I wus wrung…"
"Behave. Sit still."
"Uuugh!"
Like a small animal caught by a hunter, Kiana let out a pitiful whimper.
Sigurd released her.
Kiana fell onto the floor in a heap. Meanwhile Sigurd calmly held Bronya's soft little body and sat back down in his boss chair.
Kiana remained dazed for a moment, then dramatically assumed the posture of a heartbroken, mistreated wife—sobbing without a single actual tear:
"Hiss… hiss… I'm so pitiful. My friend stole my man… my man found a new lover and now he's so violent toward me… oh heavens, why is my life so tragic…?"
"One slice of fruit cake."
"…I'm so pitiful!"
"And a bottle of happy soda."
Sigurd's calm voice—and the small cake and soda that appeared on the desk—made Kiana's pretend sobbing come to an abrupt halt.
Normally, knowing when to advance and when to retreat was the basic rule for safely surviving around Sigurd.
But Kiana was not a normal person. Her eyes rolled once, greed instantly overwhelming reason, and she resumed wailing:
"Heavens, why—"
Bonk!
"Ow!"
A large bump rose on Kiana's head as she toppled to the floor.
Sigurd drew his hand back, forked a small piece of cake, and brought it to Bronya's lips.
Bronya opened her mouth softly; the sweet flavor spread across her tongue, and she narrowed her eyes in pure enjoyment.
"Delicious."
"As long as you like it."
"It's not because of the cake. What Bronya likes… is Sigurd feeding me."
"Hah, you little fox."
Sigurd pinched her nose with a small laugh—warmth unmistakably woven into his voice. Bronya responded with a sweet smile of her own, and the atmosphere between them grew beautifully tender.
"I want some, I want some, I want some! That's MY cake!"
Kiana, sporting the big bump on her head, threw her arms around Sigurd's leg and cried tearfully.
Sigurd lowered his head. Looking at the husky-girl clinging to his foot, he let out another exhausted sigh.
"Sigh…"
If he had committed a crime—
Sigurd glanced at the small, soft Bronya in his arms.
…Alright, he had committed a crime.
But could the punishment please come from something like Honkai itself, and not from Kiana assaulting his sanity every single day?
He silently mourned for his own future life.
Then, he forked a piece of cake and fed it to Kiana.
…
Sakura's world.
After a day of adjustment, Raiden Mei now held an unnamed longsword, standing across from Sakura—who also held a sword—amid drifting petals.
Both wore calm expressions, their gazes steady and serene, almost as if they were mirrors of each other.
The moment a single falling sakura petal passed between their lines of sight, they moved at the same time.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
In the span of a heartbeat, blades clashed hundreds upon hundreds of times, scattering sparks in a dazzling cascade.
Any petals drifting too close were shattered instantly.
A moment later, the two returned to their original positions, and the air fell silent again.
Sakura smiled gently.
"Compared to when you first arrived, the difference is like heaven and earth, Mei."
"You flatter me. I'm still far from Miss Sakura's natural, flowing grace."
"You don't need graceful flow. That is a technique pursued by someone like me—someone whose strength is limited."
"You have Herrscher power as your foundation. For you, speed and strength are enough. Overemphasizing technique will only lock away your true advantage."
"I appreciate your guidance. I'll continue working in that direction."
Raiden Mei answered calmly. One foot stepped forward, knees bent, lightning flickering across the blade she held in both hands.
Sakura smiled tenderly. Her blade lifted slightly, slicing through a drifting petal before her figure vanished.
Whoosh!
Clang!
Rumble—!
Two unseen figures clashed again and again around the massive sakura tree. Their swords wove a sharp, urgent melody, like a zither played at impossible speed.
Occasionally, arcs of sword energy carved through sky and ground—proof that the duel was far from as gentle as the eye perceived.
They exchanged blows for a long time, mostly Sakura breaking down Mei's moves, feeding her counters, and guiding her toward smoother, more natural use of her power.
At last, surrounded by scattered petals, the two faced each other again.
Crack!
The longsword in Mei's hands shattered.
She looked at the broken blade—only half left—and sighed helplessly.
Even her father's carefully crafted sword couldn't withstand Herrscher's power. No matter how much she restrained herself, ordinary steel simply couldn't survive long in her hands.
The blade in Sakura's hand dissolved in a soft red glow. She clapped lightly.
Clap! Clap!
The scenery shifted in an instant—the sakura tree remained, but the spacious dueling field transformed into a refined courtyard of flowing water and arched bridges.
Sakura gracefully walked to the small tea table in the courtyard. She sat down, brewed tea, and pushed a cup toward Raiden Mei, who had taken the seat opposite her.
"You've already found a fighting style that suits you. As you said… it's probably about time for us to part."
"Miss Sakura, thank you so much for your guidance. It's incredibly precious to me."
"Call me Sakura."
"…Eh?"
The abrupt shift caught Mei off guard; the hand holding her teacup paused mid-air as she tilted her head in innocent confusion.
Sakura lifted the teapot and smiled gently.
"We've spent quite some time together. Our days have been pleasant, haven't they? Since fate brought us together, staying so distant feels wrong."
"I want you to call me Sakura. And I want us to part as friends— Of course, only if you don't mind having a friend who's merely a memory construct."
"Sakura, of course we're friends!"
Mei answered without hesitation.
Sakura kept smiling, clear delight shining in her eyes.
For someone who had guarded this lonely world for so long—a memory echo with no change, no company—gaining a new friend was something to be happy about.
Mei looked at her and smiled as well, her expression pure and bright like a snow lotus blooming in pristine white.
After sharing tea and conversation for a while, Mei finally set her cup down. She rose, reaching for the blade resting on the table—Setsuna.
Sakura let out a silent sigh.
"You're going?"
"Yes. My final battle with Mr. Kalpas will be the proof of my growth."
"Can you win?"
"It's hard to say. I've never truly pushed Mr. Kalpas to his limits. But at the very least… I won't lose."
"Alright. Then do your best!"
"I will. With everything I have."
Mei nodded seriously. She traced her fingers across Setsuna's icy blade, a confident and resolute smile blooming on her lips.
Then she stepped forward—and vanished from the courtyard.
<+>
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