"It is alright... Ei... it does not matter... I can still..."
Curled up in Ei's arms, the Shogun's eyes were unfocused, her voice frail, as though she might lose consciousness again at any moment. Her face was so pale it hurt to look at. Sweat had soaked through her hair. The sight of her suffering made Ei's heart tremble.
"You can still what? Collapse in front of me again? The way you looked just now—it was as if you were about to—"
Her tone was uncharacteristically firm.
"I am fine... Mom."
The Shogun narrowed her dim eyes and pressed herself against Ei's chest, calling her softly and weakly with that long-unspoken word—"Mom."
"..."
Ei pressed her lips together. Hearing herself called "Mom" only made the ache in her chest worsen. It was unwillingness... resentment toward herself.
"Shogun... I... I truly am..."
Useless!
Far too useless!
"Do not speak like that... Please stop blaming yourself. I am fine. I feel much better now... My head does not hurt anymore."
Sensing that Ei was about to spiral into self-reproach again, she hurriedly grasped her mother's hand and gently tried to soothe her.
"..."
Ei's bangs fell over her eyes, hiding her expression from view.
"It is alright, Ei... Do we not still have something more important... to do?"
At the Shogun's question, hesitation flickered in Ei's eyes—but it vanished in an instant.
"We are not doing it. Come home with me. I will give you a thorough examination."
As she spoke, she decisively moved to lift her in her arms—
"Ei—! Do not... cough... be willful..."
The Shogun hurriedly grabbed her arm, raising her voice slightly despite its obvious weakness.
"...You are my daughter—I do not want—"
Ei finally lost control and shouted at her.
"And they are your people!"
Summoning the last of her strength, the Shogun shouted back in defiance.
"—!!"
Ei's body trembled.
"Why... Why must you treat me like this? Again?"
Tears streamed down Ei's face.
"Ei... I am fine. It is only a slight headache. Trust me, alright?"
She shifted closer, leaning against her and resting her chin upon her mother's shoulder as she tried to comfort her.
"...I... I truly am not suited to being a god, Shogun. I am not suited for it."
Tears dripped onto her neck as Ei wrapped her arms tightly around her, as though trying to imprison her within that embrace—afraid she might slip away, determined to hold her no matter what.
"That is not true. They need you, Ei. And I need you. You are a one-of-a-kind deity. My... my most beloved mother."
She encircled Ei's neck and slowly stroked her hair, whispering comfort into her ear even as her own mind throbbed with excruciating pain.
"Shogun..."
Ei's voice broke into sobs. That single word—"Shogun"—made her heart ache unbearably.
"I may not be able to walk, Ei... cough... Why not enter my body instead? You can take control. I... will rest for a while within the Plane of Euthymia. Would that be alright?"
The Shogun asked weakly.
"...Haa... Alright. I understand."
As soon as she finished speaking, Ei transformed into particles of light and merged into her daughter's chest. In that instant, the Shogun lost control. She slowly closed her eyes, her body tilting outward powerlessly—
Hum~
In the next second, her eyes snapped open again. The body that had been losing balance straightened once more.
"...Haa."
Ei looked around at the now-empty surroundings, then glanced down at the Shogun's body. The casual clothing the Shogun had worn was gone, replaced by her own Raiden Shogun indigo kimono adorned with gentian flowers. Even her hair had been tied up. Ei let out a soft sigh.
"Shogun? Are you alright?"
She asked aloud.
[It is fine. I will rest briefly within the Plane of Euthymia. Leave the rest to you... alright?]
"Mm. Shogun..."
[Yes?]
"Could you... call me 'Mom'... once more?"
She asked with unconcealed longing.
[...Mom, do not worry about me. I am fine.]
Hearing this, the Shogun revealed a doting smile and obediently complied.
"..."
Ei felt slightly relieved. The grief from moments ago eased somewhat. Yet the Shogun's physical condition still weighed heavily on her heart. Even so, she was right. Both the Shogun and the people were important. She would not abandon either side. She, Raiden Ei... would have them all.
"Eh? Is that... Shogun-sama?"
At that moment, an aged voice drifted from the distance. Ei turned her head in confusion and saw an elderly man standing by a tree root. He wore a long robe. His temples were white with age, yet there was firmness between his brows and a refined weariness upon his face.
"..."
She studied his aged features in silence. He seemed familiar, yet for a moment she could not recall who he was.
"Is that truly Shogun-sama's voice?"
He spoke again. Though they were only a short distance apart, he appeared able to identify her solely by her voice. That detail finally allowed her to recognize him.
"Shogun-sama... Are you unharmed? Just now... I thought I heard you sobbing."
Concern colored the elderly man's tone as he took a tentative step forward.
"..."
Ei rose from the ground and approached him, observing him carefully. A strip of cloth covered his eyes, blocking out the light. He was clearly blind. That explained why he relied on sound alone.
"You are... Furuyama?"
Her tone was uncertain as she asked.
"Mm—so it truly is Shogun-sama?! Had you not gone to the distant battlefield? Why have you returned? And were you crying just now?"
The old man named Furuyama turned toward her, the white cloth over his eyes facing her as he spoke with concern.
"I was not crying. You must have misheard."
A trace of fluster flickered through her heart, but she smoothly deflected the matter.
It truly was Furuyama. How had she failed to recognize him at first? After all, five hundred years had passed. The past had long since faded like bubbles beneath the tide of time.
[Who is he...?]
Within the Plane of Euthymia, the Shogun was still paying attention to the outside world. She asked weakly.
"His name is Furuyama. He once served me as my tea master."
Ei explained patiently.
[Oh... cough... A pleasure...]
"Do not speak. Rest. Just listen while I tell you about him."
[Mn...]
The faintest hint of a dissatisfied murmur came from her.
"Furuyama may not see, but his ability to discern flavors surpasses ordinary people. The tea he brews is among the finest in Inazuma."
Even so, Furuyama remained exceedingly humble. He never boasted of his craft. Whenever someone praised him—even sincerely—he would simply say, "I merely serve at Shogun-sama's side. With practice comes familiarity." Nothing more.
Ei continued her introduction.
"..."
The Shogun obediently said nothing more, though she quietly nodded within.
"Um... Shogun-sama, was someone else just by your side? I could have sworn I heard another voice."
Furuyama asked sharply.
"...Indeed. I met a friend just now. We exchanged a few words before parting."
Ei fabricated a casual excuse. She could hardly reveal the truth about the Shogun.
"I see... In times like these, encountering a friend is a blessing amidst misfortune. I regret that I cannot offer you tea and refreshments, Shogun-sama. Please forgive me."
Ever her tea master, even now he wished to serve her personally brewed tea. Yet the present circumstances made that impossible, so he apologized with guilt in his voice.
"It does not matter... How are you?"
Ei asked gently, following his lead—though she also needed to understand how he had met his end.
"Sigh... Thank you for your concern, Shogun-sama. I can endure a little longer. But the others are in dire straits. Most of the nearby residents have already fled."
Furuyama replied.
"Why did you not leave with them?"
Ei asked softly again.
"I could have left. They wished to take me with them. But I saw no meaning in it, so I stayed."
Furuyama shook his head. Then his sightless eyes turned toward her once more.
"Shogun-sama is here. I have no reason to run."
"..."
Ei's gaze grew complicated as she looked at the elderly man before her. Her hand within her sleeve unconsciously clenched.
"I..."
"If this is something even you cannot resolve, Shogun-sama, then where could I possibly flee? We resolved long ago to live and die alongside you."
The old man answered calmly.
"People run to survive. They wish to survive because there are unfinished matters in their lives. I have no such thoughts. I bear no regrets. As long as you are safe, Shogun-sama... that is my only wish."
"..."
After hearing the elderly man's words, Ei gently pressed her lips together. A trace of daze surfaced in her violet eyes, and for a time she did not respond.
"Shogun-sama, do you still remember? When you tasted tea, you would often speak to me of your dreams."
Receiving no answer, Furuyama did not stop. He continued to voice the thoughts in his heart, mentioning that word—"dreams"—a term exceedingly sensitive to her.
"...?"
She slowly returned to her senses and focused on him once more, listening in silence.
Yet confusion stirred within her. Had she ever spoken to him about her dreams? She could not recall. In fact, she had no impression of it at all.
"Listening to you speak, though this old man has been blind for many years, it felt as though I had personally traveled across Inazuma's mountains and seas... Your romantic and dreamlike ideas back then truly earned my admiration."
Furuyama sank into his own memories, his tone turning leisurely.
Romantic? Dreamlike?
What was this about?
How could that possibly be related to her? She had never been like that. Even now, she was not. For a moment she felt bewildered, unable to react.
"You once said... 'All beautiful things will change and fade with the passage of time. Therefore, while one lives, one must seize the moment and enjoy it fully, leaving no regrets.'"
Facing her, Furuyama repeated those words with feeling, drawn from his memories.
"!"
The moment he spoke that sentence, she finally understood. Realization dawned.
She knew who he was referring to.
Strictly speaking, she had never said those words. Yet he was not wrong either. "Shogun-sama" had indeed said them—only it had not been her. At that time, the one who bore the title of Electro Archon had been her twin sister, Raiden Makoto. She, Raiden Ei, had merely served at her side as her shadow warrior.
So that was it... Now everything aligned.
Those words were indeed something Makoto would have said. They matched her way of thinking—just as Furuyama described—romantic and dreamlike, entirely unlike Ei's own rigid and obstinate temperament as a warrior.
"So... even if the present situation is dire, I have already experienced countless beauties under your influence. I have nothing to be dissatisfied with. And now that you are by my side as well, what is there for me to fear?"
Unaware of her thoughts, Furuyama continued.
"Perhaps... that is true."
She returned to herself. Hearing his reflection, her brows softened with gentleness—and perhaps a trace of helplessness. She had no intention of exposing the truth, nor of depriving him of this final pillar of comfort. So she agreed with a warm smile, her voice gentle.
If it had been her in the past, she might have corrected him.
Heh... Thinking about it that way, she truly had been dreadful.
"Yes, Shogun-sama truly is the only one who understands this old man. Heh... Ah... Yet before long, I will have to bid you farewell. What a pity, to be unable to witness the Inazuma you will rebuild after this calamity."
"..."
Ei remained silent, watching him. Complex emotions churned within her violet eyes.
"Some say Inazuma is black. But in this old man's eyes... Inazuma has always been black. Heh."
He laughed at himself.
"Haa... Do not say that, Furuyama."
She sighed, unable to hide her sorrow at his self-deprecation, her tone turning faintly admonishing.
"Forgive me... Shogun-sama. Haa... Perhaps it is simply my age. Ah, that reminds me—after all this talk, I have yet to brew tea for you. Let me see—"
As he spoke, Furuyama instinctively reached to his side. His hand found nothing but cold air. Confusion crossed his aged face.
"Eh? Where are my tea utensils? I placed them here just moments ago."
He began searching about for his tea set. Rare anxiety appeared on his elderly features. He had intended to brew tea for Shogun-sama—yet he had not even brought his utensils? How embarrassing.
"..."
Watching the old man fumble about for his tools, Ei could not help but sigh inwardly at his devotion to tea—even in such a state.
"Haa... They were right at hand. It seems I cannot find them. This truly is... heh... I must have made a fool of myself before you, Shogun-sama. I fear I cannot brew tea after all."
At last, Furuyama gave up searching. Turning toward her, he scratched his head awkwardly. In that moment, he seemed less like a man advanced in years and more like a mischievous old child.
"Do you... wish to brew tea?"
She asked softly, warmth flowing through her gaze.
"Haa... Perhaps it is an occupational habit. Whenever I see you, I feel compelled to brew tea."
Furuyama nodded with a helpless smile.
"Would you like to drink some?"
Ei asked again after a brief thought.
"Hm? Me?"
He was clearly taken aback.
"Yes... If you wish to drink, I will fetch the tea utensils for you. Then we can drink together, just as... we once did."
Ei carefully chose her words, her tone gentle.
"Ah? Shogun-sama will personally fetch them for this old man?!"
He sounded overwhelmed by the honor.
"Yes. Rest here for a moment. I will return shortly."
Ei replied.
"No, no! I would not dare. And besides, the battle outside—"
He clearly did not wish for her to trouble herself.
"This place... is complicated. It is not quite like the teahouse you remember."
Glancing around at the surroundings, she offered a reasonable excuse. Then she crouched down of her own accord and gently took his aged hand in hers.
"So leave it to me... Allow me to do something for you, alright?"
Her eyes were filled with warmth as she asked softly.
"...This... Haa... Very well. To think such a day would come. Then this old man shall boldly trouble Shogun-sama to prepare the tea set for me. Should I call it my final regret—or my final blessing?"
Feeling the warmth of her hand, Furuyama was visibly moved. His slightly trembling hand gradually steadied, and in the end, he relented.
"Haa... It is neither. I am no saint. Doing something for you requires no such praise. I will return soon. Hold on a little longer."
With that, she released his hand and rose, surveying her surroundings.
Tea utensils...
Her thoughts turned swiftly before her eyes lit up. She had thought of a place—there, she would surely find what she needed.
Having decided, she wasted no time and headed southeast toward the Kamisato Estate. When it came to tea leaves, the Yashiro Commission was well versed. Borrowing a set of utensils would not be difficult.
Around three in the afternoon—
Ei ascended the steps of Chinju Forest on schedule, arriving before the courtyard gates of the grand residence—the Kamisato Estate.
To be honest, it had been a long time since she last came here. For the Shogun, perhaps such visits were frequent. But for Ei, the place felt strangely unfamiliar. Her memory of its layout remained fixed decades—perhaps even centuries—in the past.
With that thought in mind, she stepped into the courtyard.
At that moment, Thoma, a housekeeper of the Kamisato Clan, happened to pass through the front garden. From the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar flash of violet. He froze, then immediately stopped and turned his head in astonishment.
He had not been mistaken—It truly was Shogun-sama!
Well then, work had arrived. Without hesitation, he jogged toward her, naturally arranging a bright and welcoming smile upon his face.
"Shogun-sama! Have you come to play a game of chess with Milady again today?"
He greeted her cheerfully.
"...Not so. I have come today to borrow a set of tea utensils from the Yashiro Commission."
Ei did not dwell on the implication in his words. She understood that he was likely referring to the Shogun's previous visits. Since she had not come to play chess, she simply stated her purpose plainly.
"Oh—oh! I see... You wish to borrow tea utensils. Understood. Heh."
Thoma's lips twitched awkwardly before he scratched the back of his head with a laugh.
Still... why did Shogun-sama feel somewhat different from usual today?
He could not quite explain it. Something was different. Perhaps her bearing? Her aura? Or was it her voice—her tone?