After a few seconds, Kokomi withdrew her hand and slipped her feathered robe—previously taken off—back onto her body.
Then, placing her hands lightly on the stone edge, she pushed herself out of the water and sat on the platform, her back facing the other woman.
"Actually, I'm not very good at being a ruler."
Kokomi lowered her gaze softly, her voice gentle as she looked down at her thighs hanging over the stone edge. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the wet, translucent surface of her white stockings, the fabric clinging faintly to her skin. Though her words sounded like self-talk, they were clearly meant for the person behind her.
"..."
The Shogun looked at her back for a moment, then turned her gaze away—her body shifting slightly to face the sunset-dyed scenery of Watatsumi Island spread before them.
"...I can tell."
She replied quietly under the golden glow of the clouds—her tone offering no comfort, only plain acknowledgment.
"Hehe..."
Kokomi only chuckled softly, unbothered by the lack of reassurance. Her smile, however, carried a trace of tenderness, almost indulgent.
"To be honest... my earliest dream was simply to read military books and maybe become a strategist."
Splash~
As she spoke, she shifted her hips slightly backward, her legs—still covered in soaked white stockings—lifting gracefully out of the water. Her heels pressed gently against the stone surface as she moved.
"Talking to people, caring about their feelings, reading the mood, distributing benefits..."
She continued, leaning back slightly until her bare, damp shoulders rested softly against the woman behind her, their backs touching.
"...All of that feels so troublesome to me."
Her legs bent slightly, her damp, stockinged feet brushing together as her back pressed more deliberately against the other's.
"..."
Feeling the pressure against her back, the Shogun subtly adjusted her posture—lowering her waist just enough for Kokomi to rest more comfortably against her.
Sensing this gentle movement, Kokomi's lips curved into a faint smile as tender as rippling water.
"To make people feel like spring's warmth while still keeping them in awe... haa..."
Kokomi let out a weary sigh.
"That's not something I'm good at. Or rather... it's something I never wanted to deal with."
She straightened her posture, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her cheek atop them. Her eyes shimmered with regret, sorrow, and nostalgia—her voice delicate and fragile.
"..."
The Shogun didn't interrupt, only listened quietly as Kokomi spoke. Her upper body, once slightly tilted forward, gradually straightened again so that their backs remained in light contact—perhaps to offer silent support.
"But... because of my bloodline, the position of 'Divine Priestess' was destined to be mine. My mother told me when I was little: 'The fate of Watatsumi Island will one day rest in your hands.' I had no choice. From childhood, I was trained for this—whether I liked it or not. It was... haa... something I could never escape."
Her hands tightened around her legs, her soft lips pressing together as her voice grew faint.
"Have you ever thought of giving up?"
The Shogun finally spoke, her tone low, probing.
"...Giving up?"
Kokomi wasn't surprised. She didn't think the question was rude either—she simply repeated the word softly, almost to herself.
"To chase your dream—your childhood dream—becoming a strategist?"
The Shogun's voice was gentle.
"... (shakes head)"
Kokomi slowly shook her head.
"Maybe... I did think about it when I first took the position. But... now, I don't dare to anymore."
She exhaled a quiet sigh.
"...Because of Watatsumi Island?"
"Mm... If I were to leave, what would become of them—the people of Watatsumi? Even now, under my leadership, they still hold resentment toward the Shogunate, toward Narukami Island... even toward you."
Her voice softened, tinged with melancholy.
"If I were gone... haa... I don't know what they'd do. The only thing waiting for them would be destruction, right? Shogun-sama?"
Kokomi asked quietly.
"Indeed. If you were gone, I wouldn't need to show mercy anymore. I'd strike them all down with a single slash—level everything to the ground~"
As the Shogun spoke, she mischievously leaned her back slightly backward—pressing gently against Kokomi's. Feeling the playful motion, Kokomi responded with equal affection, leaning forward a little to match the gesture.
"Hehe... that's why I can't leave. I won't chase the dream I once had—I can't..."
Releasing her knees, Kokomi placed her left hand softly on the stone platform beneath her hips, her fingertips brushing against the Shogun's hand resting beside her.
"Your 'blade,' right now, is placed against my neck. If I were gone, only Watatsumi Island behind me would suffer. So please, Shogun-sama... keep that blade held against me forever."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the Shogun's hand, her tone steady and full of conviction.
"Don't say it like that. I have no intention of keeping a sword on your neck—and besides, holding it that long would make my arm sore."
The Shogun teased, pressing her back lightly into Kokomi's once again.
"It's just a metaphor~"
Kokomi smiled softly, her voice sweet and tender.
"Even so, that's not allowed. No metaphors."
The Shogun retorted childishly, her tone almost pouty.
"Pfft... alright, alright~"
Kokomi responded affectionately, her tone filled with indulgent amusement.
"..." ×2
Silence fell between them once again—but this time, it was no longer awkward. It was calm, peaceful... even faintly intimate.
"Have you truly... decided?"
"Hm?"
"To give up your old dream?"
The Shogun asked again.
"...Yes. Perhaps that's just how life is. How many people can truly shape their lives exactly as they wish? Sometimes, the path we take diverges from the ideals we once held. Sometimes, we must let go. As the saying goes—'a blessing in disguise.' If I had truly become a strategist, then I never would have met you, would I~?"
Finally, Kokomi turned to face her, sitting side by side on the stone platform. Her shoulder brushed softly against the Shogun's, and her eyes shimmered with quiet affection.
"...///"
Hearing such straightforward words, the Shogun's pale face flushed with a soft, unmistakable blush. She instinctively turned her head away, eyes darting toward the burning red clouds on the horizon.
"..."
Noticing her shy reaction, Kokomi smiled, leaning slightly closer, trying to catch a glimpse of her face.
"!"
The Shogun flinched, instinctively dodging to keep her flushed cheeks hidden.
"Are you blushing?"
Kokomi asked bluntly.
"...Ahem, it's just the sunset."
The Shogun coughed lightly, giving up on hiding and offering the simplest excuse she could think of—folding her arms as if to regain composure.
"That's true... it is evening already."
Kokomi wisely didn't press further, gracefully changing the subject instead.
"...There's one more thing."
The Shogun spoke again.
"Hm?"
Kokomi turned her head toward her, smiling softly with patient curiosity.
"Why did you come here to bathe when you weren't feeling well?"
The Shogun asked, genuinely puzzled.
"...Pfft, bathe... hehe~!"
Kokomi couldn't help it—the way she said it was just too amusing. She covered her chest, laughing lightly.
"What's so funny? Isn't that what you were doing? Bathing?"
The Shogun asked, frowning slightly.
"Mhm~ pfft... yes, yes, bathing."
Kokomi pressed her shoulder gently against hers, still trying to suppress her laughter.
"..."
The Shogun squinted at her, her expression turning into an unamused deadpan.
"Haa... Actually, the spring here is indirectly connected to the lingering power of the Great Watatsumi Omikami. The water contains particles resonating with my Hydro element—it has a healing effect. It eases my headaches and physical fatigue."
Kokomi explained between slow breaths.
"So only you use this place?"
The Shogun asked.
"Mm. Others wouldn't come this far just to... pfft... bathe—"
Pinch~!
Unable to hold it in any longer, the Shogun reached over and lightly pinched Kokomi's thigh through her white stockings, her fingers pressing into the soft flesh beneath.
"Ah~!"
Kokomi yelped adorably, clamping her thighs together and covering the pinched spot, puffing her cheeks at the Shogun.
"Hmph~"
The Shogun huffed proudly, crossing her legs and looking away—serves her right for laughing.
"Uu///~ S-so... yes, I'm the only one who comes here. It's secluded, close to Sangonomiya Shrine, and not easily noticeable... very convenient."
Kokomi explained meekly, still nursing her thigh.
Pinch~!
The next second, the Shogun felt a light pinch on her own leg. She turned her head in disbelief.
"...Payback~"
Kokomi released her fingers and patted the Shogun's thigh gently, smiling sweetly as she delivered her playful revenge.
"..."
The Shogun stared at her radiant smile for a brief, speechless moment before sighing inwardly and standing up slowly.
"You really are... such a little troublemaker."
She muttered helplessly.
"...Mm."
Kokomi blinked, then smiled warmly—her expression tender and knowing, as if to say, 'Yes, I am.'
[Kokomi, becoming the 'Divine Priestess' means entrusting the fate of Watatsumi Island to you.]
[I know you're not good at this, but from now on... you must do your best to meet everyone's expectations.]
[Because... you are the future of Watatsumi Island.]
"!!"
Kokomi jolted awake once again from a dream. After a moment of hazy confusion, her blurry vision gradually cleared—revealing a ceiling she knew well. The room was dim, lit only by a faint golden glow. It wasn't sunlight, but the soft light of the bedside lamp.
"...Where... am I?"
For a few seconds, she was dazed. How had she ended up in bed?
"Mm..."
Squinting, she raised her hand from under the blanket and rested the back of it against her slightly sweaty forehead. Glancing around and recognizing her own room, she finally let out a small sigh of relief.
The curtains were drawn, and since no light seeped through from outside, it was clear that night had already fallen.
"Did I... fall asleep?"
She murmured softly, her voice hoarse from sleep.
Then it came back to her—after bathing in the spring behind the mountain, the Shogun had carried her all the way back through the back gate of Sangonomiya Shrine. Once inside, she had been laid gently on her bed. She'd thought she'd just rest for a moment... but apparently, she'd drifted straight into sleep.
"Haa... so tired."
With a faint groan, she lowered her hand and turned slightly onto her side, clutching the blanket and pulling it closer around her body. Even after sleeping, her exhaustion hadn't faded. Her entire body ached—her back sore, her head still spinning slightly. She felt so weak she didn't even want to move.
"Ugh... this is awful... ugh—┭┮﹏┭┮"
She complained weakly, her nasal voice carrying a soft, pitiful whine. There was little she could do—her body had always been frail, and after overexerting herself, this was the result.
Knock knock...
A gentle series of knocks came from the door.
Click~
A second later, the door opened quietly from the outside. Perhaps due to the dim lighting near the doorway, only a slender silhouette could be seen entering.
Clack~
A few soft sounds followed—she seemed to be taking off her shoes before stepping lightly toward the bed, carrying something in her hands.
"?"
Kokomi blinked drowsily and looked toward the sound.
The figure moved closer, stepping into the light—and there she was, the purple-haired beauty herself. The lamp's glow gave her already stunning face an even softer, divine radiance.
"You're awake? How's your body?"
The Shogun set down whatever she had brought on the bedside table before sitting gently on the edge of the bed, her voice filled with quiet concern.
"...Still a little dizzy, but it's nothing serious."
Kokomi slowly pushed herself upright, making space beside her. She propped her pillow vertically behind her back and leaned against it, her legs still covered under the blanket forming a small, arched shape.
Her upper body was dressed in her usual nightgown, but her lower half was still clad in white stockings trimmed with pale lavender patterns—the same ones that matched her feathered robe. She must have fallen asleep before she could finish changing.
And because she had been tightly wrapped in her blanket while sleeping, she'd ended up sweating all over—including her feet, still enclosed within the thin, now-damp fabric of her stockings.
She wiggled her toes inside the soft confines of the socks, feeling the fabric stretch and flex with the motion. When she pressed her soles against the bed, she noticed the surface didn't feel smooth but slightly coarse—and even a little cool.
"///"
Realizing the sensation, Kokomi's face turned pink with embarrassment. Yes, her feet were drenched in sweat—to the point that the stockings clung wetly to her skin.
"Wipe your sweat..."
The Shogun, noticing the faint beads of sweat on her forehead, took a handkerchief from her pocket and gently dabbed it across Kokomi's brow, wiping the moisture away with careful strokes.
"Thank you..."
Kokomi blinked and smiled sweetly in gratitude. Then, quietly, she pulled back the blanket covering her lower body, revealing her legs—and the pair of delicate stockinged feet, glistening faintly from the dampness.
"...?"
Following Kokomi's movement, the Shogun's gaze naturally drifted downward—she noticed that each time Kokomi's feet touched the sheets, faint traces of moisture appeared where they had been.
"S-sorry... my feet... they're sweating///."
Realizing the direction of her gaze, Kokomi blushed and pulled her knees in closer, tucking her damp, delicate feet to one side in embarrassment.
"..."
The Shogun stared at her quietly, momentarily lost in thought—her shy little movements were unexpectedly adorable.
"P-please don't look at me like that. It's just sweat, that's all! It's... it's normal, right? Don't your feet ever sweat too?"
Kokomi pouted in mild protest, her face flushed pink as she voiced her complaint. Being stared at like that was making her feel self-conscious.
"...I have, yes. Just... not quite as much as you."
The Shogun answered, sounding slightly awkward. Her body's mechanisms were sophisticated enough to mimic most human physiological functions—something Ei had carefully enabled for her long ago. Of course she could sweat, though it wasn't something she often talked about—especially not about her feet.
Still, even now, though she had removed her shoes, she could feel a slight dampness beneath her black stockings. It was probably because she had worn her usual enclosed heels earlier. When she wore open-toed sandals, it rarely happened.
"But still, you do sweat, right?"
Kokomi pressed, refusing to give up.
"Haa... yes, I do."
The Shogun admitted plainly.
"...That's good then."
Kokomi sighed softly in relief, as if comforted by the shared experience. Then, deciding not to hide anymore, she stretched her legs out again, letting her damp feet rest on the bed.
"Haa... no wonder you're a Hydro user—you really are made of water."
The Shogun teased with a small smile.
"...It's just that my body's weak, so I sweat easily, that's all. Shogun-sama loves to tease me... ugh."
Kokomi puffed her cheeks again, her voice carrying a hint of grievance.
"Here. Wipe them."
The Shogun handed her a handkerchief.
"Mm..."
Kokomi accepted it obediently, though a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. Using the Shogun's handkerchief to wipe her sweaty feet felt... questionable.
"It's fine. You can keep it."
The Shogun noticed her hesitation and reassured her calmly.
"But... you already gave me one before."
Kokomi said softly, remembering the handkerchief the Shogun had given her earlier in the Plane of Euthymia to wipe the blood from her neck. She had kept it ever since.
"Then I'll give you another one. You don't have to thank me~"
The Shogun smiled faintly.
"Pfft... how generous~"
Kokomi giggled, replying with lighthearted playfulness. The two of them were clearly comfortable around each other now—their bond had deepened, familiarity naturally turning into closeness. Perhaps this was what people meant by 'growing affection over time,' even if it had only been a day.
Under the Shogun's gaze, Kokomi slowly peeled off her white stockings, folding them neatly and setting them by the bed. Without the silken barrier, her bare feet were revealed—slender, pale, and exquisitely shaped, almost too delicate.
Then, gently, she placed the pale lavender handkerchief across the tops of her feet and began to wipe. Her touch was light—she dabbed and brushed, then pressed the cloth softly against her soles, her toes curling slightly beneath the motion. She wasn't rubbing, merely letting the fabric absorb the lingering moisture.
As she continued, a faint, sweet scent drifted into the air—not of the handkerchief, but of something else.
Was this... her scent?
It should have been the smell of perspiration, yet it wasn't unpleasant at all. It was soft, sweet... soothing, almost.
How... strange.