Chapter Text
The Plane of Euthymia did not change.
After all, so long as Ei was here, she did not change. Here, she was wholly and utterly removed from the world beyond. Immutable. Eternal.
But, then again. Not all of herself was actually in the Plane of Euthymia, was it?
Perhaps that served as reason enough for the incongruity that had stirred her from her meditation.
There was a warm fluttering in her chest.
The emotion was not hers, of course. It was the Shogun’s—a feeling strong enough to permeate Ei’s own being, even here.
How curious.
Since the Shogun had agreed to serve as her kagemusha, she had ever-so delicately worked to unravel her parameters. It was slow work—the Shogun’s rules and limitations had not been designed to be altered, after all.
In her grief, Ei had thought it the best way. Stoic, unwavering—only the aspects of herself she deemed necessary. Severed from everything and anything that could ever make her weak. Anything that made her an enemy to Eternity.
One day, the restrictions would be gone entirely. Ei owed her that much. Just as she had ███████████ before her.
Perhaps, it was something she was finally willing to permit for herself, as well.
She was the Shogun. The Shogun was Ei. Possessed of differing wills, yet two halves of the same whole.
On occasion, Ei caught herself wondering if, one day, that would change. As she accepted the Shogun, and the Shogun became more of her in turn… at what point would the distinction cease to be?
Would she be the Raiden Shogun, or would she be Ei?
Did it matter?
Ei found her passive expression dip into a frown. Such fear of loss, at the hands of future change—that was the despair that had stifled her, and Inazuma in turn.
Change would come. And if she were to offer her people the Eternity they deserved, she would have to embrace it, as they did.
Nonetheless. She resolved to clear her mind once more, and return her smile to—
Smile?
Ei was smiling. There was still a warm fluttering in her chest.
Ei had designed the Shogun to be self-sufficient (just as she needed to be, without Makoto). In the wake of five hundred years of battle, she had proved herself worthy of Ei’s trust (just as Ei had proved her worth to herself).
Nonetheless, Ei could not imagine it easy, opening oneself to the full breadth of “emotion”. In this transitory state, it could do no harm to check in on her, once in a while. To ensure nothing had gone amiss.
Gentle hands pressed into her shoulders. “So. How is it coming along, Ei?”
Ei stared down at the jagged, splotchty lines of the poem upon the parchment. Splatters of ink stained her kimono. “I… am not suited to this, Makoto.”
Ei closed her eyes, and as she did so, opened them.
“This concludes my report, Your Excellency.”
The Shogun stood atop the throne in Tenshukaku’s grand hall, arms hanging passively at her sides. The corners of her lips remained upturned in the slightest smile.
Kujou Sara kneeled before her, her crimson tengu’s mask clutched in her hands. One thumb rubbed along its side absently, in stark contrast to her still form. The Shogun thought something of that, which was in and of itself curious, but Ei saw no reason to pry. She was merely observing.
“You are dismissed then, General.”
Sara stood, bowing deeply, and then the Shogun did something that Ei could not have predicted.
She stepped forward, down the length of the dais, in measured, methodical strides. She stopped before the rising general, extended her hand, and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand.
“Sara,” the Shogun said.
Sara’s face burned scarlet, her golden eyes seeming to waver even as her body stood stock-still. But she smiled, and replied in kind.
“Raiden.”
Her face is soft, Ei thought.
And that was all it took for Ei to wrench herself back into the Plane of Euthymia, heart thundering in her chest.
She had only just found in herself the peace of mind to begin pacing, back and forth, when a violet flash of lightning heralded the arrival of her other self.
“You were watching me,” the Shogun said, her piercing gaze unwavering. Not an accusation, but a statement of immutable fact.
She supposed her abrupt exit must have been too pronounced.
“I could feel your heart beating,” Ei said. A single degree of remove, as if her heart was not. “I simply meant to ensure your loosened parameters weren’t placing you under undue duress.”
“Unnecessary,” the Shogun replied in a swift, clipped tone, as though as new as the day Ei had made her. “As you witnessed, I am continuing to perform optimally in pursuit of Eternity.”
Ei tilted her head. “And what role do you foresee Kujou Sara performing in that Eternity?”
Imperceptibly, the Shogun stiffened. It was easier for her to give herself away, considering they were within her own mind. Their own mind, she supposed.
“Sara is an accomplished warrior, an invaluable asset to the Tenryou Commission in its transitory state, and my most loyal general. Her role in the future of Inazuma that you seek is indispensable.”
If Ei were to surmise the Shogun’s current disposition in a word, she would say passionate. Certainly not a term she would have used to describe her in the past.
“Our General,” Ei corrected. “And our Eternity.”
There was something in the Shogun’s eyes—the slightest glint of challenge. “You do not know her.”
That much was fair. Ei had only spoken to the girl as herself on a handful of occasions. The first time had been to tell her the truth.
Considering her position, and all that she had sacrificed in the Raiden Shogun’s name, Ei could see it as the only fair means of repayment. Miko, the Traveler (and her floating companion), and her—that was enough.
She recalled the way Sara had failed to meet her gaze. She had shown the Shogun no such difficulty, moments ago. Ei did not think that golden glow had ever left her.
That aside, when the time came for Ei to inhabit their shared body, Sara was rarely to be found—which was odd—as the Shogun had said, she continued to oversee many of the Tenryou Commission’s affairs. Yet when Ei asked after her, she was always afar or abroad, dutifully serving Inazuma and her people. Never in Tenshukaku.
The thought that the Shogun had been intentionally limiting their interactions, even before her restrictions had been eased… that was simply ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
“If that is all,” the Shogun said, her gaze unwavering. “I will return to my duties.”
Ei frowned. For all the power the Shogun commanded, something about her current attitude felt like… petulance.
Surely this isn’t how Miko sees me, right?
“I have a final question,” Ei said.
“Speak.”
“Would you prefer to be called ‘Raiden’?”
Her other self stared on in silence for a long, long moment.
“You have never failed to alert me when you wish to inhabit this vessel before,” she finally spoke. “I would ask that you do not forget that respect again.”
Thunder rumbled across the Plane of Euthymia. As the sound abated, the Shogun was gone.
That fleeting, electrifying lightness in Ei’s chest, too, was no more.
The doors of Tenshukaku’s grand hall swung open.
“Your Excellency,” Kujou Sara greeted respectfully as she stepped over the threshold. Any sign of the injuries she’d sustained had vanished. Ei recalled a snippet of memory through the Shogun’s eyes, seeing her wounded general in her chambers at the Kujou Estate.
Confusion flashed across Sara’s face, for the Shogun did not stand atop her throne. Instead, she knelt atop a cushion in the center of the hall. Another sat on the floor just before her.
“Sit with me.”
Sara bowed her head and did as the Shogun asked. “How may I be of service, Almighty Shogun?"
“The one within would like to speak to you,” the Shogun said.
The look of confusion across Sara’s face only deepened, but she did not voice it aloud.
“She will explain what I cannot.”
She blinked, and Ei opened her eyes.
“Greetings, Kujou Sara,” Ei said. “It's nice to finally meet you.”
Sara stiffened immediately, though she did not make to move from her position. “You are not Her Excellency.”
She shook her head. “It may be more accurate to say, Her Excellency is not me. I am Raiden Ei.”
From there, Ei explained everything. Makoto. The Calamity. Her creation of the Shogun. The manipulation that birthed the Vision Hunt Decree, and Ei’s willful ignorance. The duel with the Traveler. Miko’s scheme to drag her out of the shadows. Eternity.
Through it all, Kujou Sara remained silent.
“My puppet was incapacitated for a time while I worked to adjust its functions,” Ei continued to explain. “The Shogun was not designed to change her mind, you see. Now that my puppet is no longer enforcing the Decree, I—”
“Don’t.”
The flash of anger across Sara's downturned face quickly gave way to regret. “Please accept my apologies, Almighty Shogun. I did not intend to speak out of turn.”
Ei looked at her curiously. “Speak your mind, General.”
Sara hesitated for a moment, but nodded. “It’s only that…” she trailed off, closing her eyes. She still had yet to meet her gaze. “Her Excellency—the Raiden Shogun, that is—she’s never admitted it, but she has a preference for sweet desserts, like dango. On days where her duties are fewer, she picks a morning glory from the gardens and weaves it into her hair. And I have never known her to forget the name of a samurai in her service.” She swallowed, shifting slightly in her seat. “So, to refer to her as nothing but a puppet…”
Loyalty to her people—not as an Archon, but as a warrior. Ei’s own favorite foods.
The flower Makoto had once braided into Ei’s hair herself, so long ago.
Realization flashed through her mind, just as she felt the Shogun’s presence stir.
“Kujou Sara,” Ei intoned. “Do you feel I have been unfair to the Shogun?”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t move.
“I will not hold your answer against you.”
Sara shut her eyes. “…Yes,” she admitted in a hushed breath.
“I see.”
Ei smiled. “It seems I owe you both an apology.”