Chapter Text
Kazuha was willing to do a lot for the resistance. Normally if Sangonomiya Kokomi looked him in the eyes, and told him to break into a palace to gather potentially crucial information; he’d do it without question. However, Kazuha was… maybe regretting agreeing to this mission.
Hanging from a ledge, forty-five feet above a rolling ocean, slowly losing feeling in his good hand, and exactly two hundred and thirty six feet away from the woman who killed his best friend - this wasn’t exactly his perfect idea of reconnaissance.
With what felt like the last of his strength, he pulled himself up over the ledge, and caught his breath. The view, at least, was nice. The sky was overcast and almost tinted violet, threatening to push out a rainstorm, the sakura trees fluttering in the breeze like faraway butterflies. Kazuha felt as if he could see nearly all of Inazuma at this angle.
The air smelt of salt and desperation, and the wind felt too afraid to even whistle. Somewhere, in the distance, lightning flashed, and Kazuha swore he could feel an ache in his left side. Even though it was lightning that had numbed it in the beginning.
The entrance that’d been picked for him was at an odd angle, and definitely not one he would’ve chosen. The window turned away from the city, and towards the countryside. Reportedly, the window was always open, never closed off with shutters or screens no matter the weather. More importantly, there was never a sign of torches or lanterns lit inside, meaning it was most likely seldom used or straight up abandoned.
He’d probably find some dust and an empty room, if he stuck his head inside. He thought back to the people of Watatsumi, of the soldiers crowded into tents numbering up to twenty people on the worst nights. It all felt deliciously unfair, and the injustice coursing through him was enough motivation for him to move again.
Kazuha straightened up, using the wall behind him to balance, and quickly vaulted into the window, landing softly, and silently. The faint traces left of moonlight that filtered through the clouds cast large, dark shadows that contorted to look like monstrous faces and gigantic, hulking figures. Ironically, the only monster in this palace was a beautiful woman.
He stepped forward, unsure. The room was completely devoid of any furniture, and the paper walls between him and the rest of the hallway was dark and silent.
Good, he was alone. But what a shame - an entire room rotting away whilst children fought for space on hard wooden floors to sleep on.
Kazuha stepped towards the door, ready to slide it open and begin his way to the nearest office or library he could find, when foregin, cold hands wrapped around his neck.
He choked, instinctively, and his hands flashed to his sword, but the hands were strong, and almost glacial, and his instinct won against his training, his hands reached up to his assailant and scratched desperately against them.
“ What ,” a soft voice whispered against his ear, sending a shudder down his spine as his head spun. “ Are you doing in my room? ”
Kazuha tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked noise that sounded vaguely similar to “Let go!”
The hands released his throat, and Kazuha dropped like a stone, gasping for air, gagging and coughing.
He looked up, and in the light of the moon, hovering above him with a disinterested expression - he saw a flash of lightning, heard a scream, desperately thought no, no, saw her apathetic expression, surrounded by violet hair -
He kicked out, knocking the figure to the ground as he clawed his way across the floor, anything to get away from her. Her hair spilled out against the pale moon, like spilled ink on a page, like blood on a stone floor. Kazuha couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t part of the plan - this wasn’t part of the plan! She was meant to be in correspondence with the Kujou clan leaders right now, she wasn’t meant to be in an abandoned room filled with so much dust that it made his throat close up. She was meant to be far, far fucking away from him - he couldn’t kill her, she was a God, she was a monster -
“Ow! ” the figure groaned, rolling onto their back, clutching at their ankle. Kazuha dove into the corner of the room, and held himself against the singular wooden wall, panting heavily.
That didn’t sound like a monster. That didn’t sound like the Almighty Raiden Shogun. That sounded almost human.
Taking the opportunity to survey the room again, Kazuha noticed broken, dead leaves were cracking under him, and that his hands were coated in so much dust that he could physically see it, even in this low lighting.
“Who - who are you?” He asked, voice hoarse. The figure groaned again, and slowly sat up, long violet hair glimmering in the moonlight. It occurred to him that maybe he hadn’t been attacked out of nowhere, and this person was just trying to defend themselves.
“I’m…” they were silent, for a moment, as if they had just forgotten what their name was. “I’m - no one important.” they said, rising to their feet. Now that they weren’t actively attacking him, and Kazuha’s adrenaline high was wearing off, he realised that the figure was in a plain white kimono, and their hair, whilst so long it brushed against their ankles, was unbraided and tangled.
“Why are you here?” the figure asked, their voice a lot softer than the Shogun’s. A lot younger sounding, too. Something about it soothed Kazuha’s racing heart.
“I…” Kazuha felt lost. Clearly, no one had any idea there was someone living up here. Maybe not even people in the palace.
“No one ever comes here.” The figure continued, turning, and beginning to pace. “In fact, I was sure I’d been forgotten about, and she wouldn’t send anyone after all this time, unless they caught me outside, and I haven’t left for years, so…” they paused, stiff. Eyes wide, like a hare who caught the light of the moon.
“Are you here to kill me?” they asked, looming over Kazuha like a ghost of a nightmare.
He inhaled, felt the familiar ache in his good hand, and remembered that the nightmare was far, far worse than anything his mind could conjure.
Kazuha shook his head, shakily getting to his feet. “No, I’m not here to kill anyone.”
The figure paused, head turning, and Kazuha realised their eyes were a dark indigo, almost luminent in the shadows. “Then are you here to tear down the Shogun?”
His throat felt dry. “Maybe.” he responded, finding it hard to lie with their piercing gaze on him.
The figure grinned, knife sharp, teeth glinting like a wolf’s, white with the light of the moon. “Then I’ll help, if you get me out of here.”
As much as Kazuha was burning with curiosity, his new… acquaintance was firm that they keep deathly quiet. The two of them slid seamlessly from shadow to shadow, even though they only encountered one guard, who was very clearly asleep.
“Are you sure all this sneaking is necessary? ” Kazuha asked in what was barely a whisper, as the two of them tiptoed past yet another empty room gathering dust. The entire time, the person had been grinning almost manically, brimming with an unexplained energy, and it was a little unsettling to say the least.
“Here,” the person grabbed his wrist on his bad side, and tugged him forwards, descending down a narrow flight of stairs. “Servant’s quarters. There’s an office with the servant schedules on the wall. That’ll be useful to you, right?” they whispered, pressing themselves against Kazuha in the narrow stairwell.
“Will anyone be there?” Kazuha asked, instead of answering.
“No, it should be empty.” The stairs came to an abrupt end, and Kazuha waited patiently as the person pushed open what was seemingly an innocent piece of wood - clearly, just a hidden door - open a crack, the flickering lantern light painting their indigo eyes lavender and their dark hair a strange greyish colour.
“Okay, it’s empty. Go on ahead, I’ll wait here. If you hear screaming, that’s your cue to run. Understand?”
Kazuha thought back to their hands around his neck, and nodded, swallowing harshly. He had a feeling the person screaming would not be his guide, but rather any unfortunate guard or soldier who came their way. He could still feel the phantom sensations of their hands around his neck.
Just who was this person?
Kazuha mulled it over as he crept silently through the hallway. They sounded like a young man, but looked like a young woman - something about them felt inherently genderless. They were dressed in a plain white kimono - even servants wore more extravagant patterns and colours - but when Kazuha had brushed against it, it was made of fine silk that probably cost leagues more than anything he’d ever owned. And then of course, there was the question of why they were residing in a room caked with dust and dead leaves, and left up there.
He found the servant schedule tacked to a board, and he snagged it quickly, folding it into a small square and tucking it into his belt. There - it wasn’t much, but it would definitely help other reconnaissance missions, and if he had someone who apparently had intimate knowledge of how the Shogun’s Palace functioned, well, who was he to deny freedom to anyone?
Freedom… the only thing Kazuha could understand was that this person guiding him through the complex was a prisoner. A criminal, maybe, or a maid who had somehow offended the Shogun and was left in that room to rot.
Either way, they were coming with Kazuha. He wanted out of this place already, and if they’d been here for potentially years … his skin crawled just imagining it. They probably hadn’t eaten in a while, or slept somewhere comfortable.
Kazuha knocked on the hidden door softly, with just his knuckles. The door cracked open, and he was quickly pulled inside. The person looked him up and down, and frowned.
“Did you get it?” they asked, sounding almost in disbelief.
“I did,” Kazuha replied, trying not to feel offended. He didn’t know them, they weren’t to know how skilled he might’ve been. “It’s hidden on my person. Is that all?”
The person chewed on their lip, and their eyes darted around until they eventually landed on the dull, turquoise glow of Kazuha’s Vision.
“You-” they breathed softly, as if they’d never seen one before. “You have a-”
“A Vision? Yes.” Kazuha smiled at the memory of feeling it drop into his hands, and it feeling just right. Tomo would’ve been proud.
He blinked, and in the dim light, even though he looked down at them, the person really did look far too similar to the Raiden Shogun.
“It’s Anemo, gifted to me by the God of Freedom,” he explained. “Now, speaking of freedom,” he smiled a little. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The person stared up at him with an unreadable expression. Something akin to a smile pulled at their mouth.
It was simple, they’d exit the same way Kazuha entered. Granted, he’d planned on gliding down with the wind glider that Aether had so kindly gifted him - but now he had a lot of extra weight.
Well, there was another way, but… he’d planned to get back to Watatsumi within the week, and he’d be so exhausted that he’d have to take a full day to recover…
It’d be worth it.
Kazuha eased himself out of the window - the ledge outside was thin, but easily supported his weight. The person, however, watched with caution, hands balanced on the windowsill.
“It’ll be alright.” Kazuha promised, holding out his hand. “Promise. There’s no need to be afraid.”
The person swallowed harshly, and Kazuha noticed their hands shaking. Their long hair flowed like a river in the moonlight.
“Hey, what’s your name again?”
“Kunikuzushi.” They said quietly, looking down at the wide expanse of land and ocean under the palace’s foundations. “My name is Kunikuzushi.”
Kunikuzushi, country destroyer.
“Kunikuzushi-san, my name is Kaedehara Kazuha.” He tried to smile at them as brightly as he could. “See? I gave you my name because you gave me yours. If you trust me to keep you safe, I’ll trust you to not try to kill me again. Deal?”
Kunikuzushi’s stare hardened.
Then, they were promptly swinging one leg out of the window, and holding onto Kazuha’s forearms so tightly he was sure he’d have bruises the next day.
“There, easy does it.” Kazuha murmured, more to himself as Kunikuzushi’s hair and skirts billowed in the breeze, like a sail. Beidou would laugh at him, being exactly like her, picking up a stray.
Eventually, Kunikuzushi stood fully outside of the window, clinging onto Kazuha for dear life.
“So what now?” They asked, pointedly looking away from anything that wasn’t the window. “Do we climb?”
“Better,” Kazuha promised, bending down and scooping Kunikuzushi into a bridal style carry. They shrieked, predictably, but then covered their mouth with both hands, eyes wide.
“We’re going to fly.” Kazuha breathed, hearing the excitement in his own voice.
Kunikuzushi swallowed, and wrapped their arms around his neck tightly. “Sure, whatever. Just don’t drop me.” they muttered, still staring at the window longingly.
Focusing carefully, Kazuha pulled at the air surrounding them, enough to pull the both of them up into the air, Kunikuzushi - already light - became practically weightless as they gasped. Kazuha could feel the brush of their long hair against his face as he positioned his weight, and kicked off.
And then, they were flying .
Kazuha bounded through the air, using the roofs of houses or the tops of trees as springboards, collecting the Anemo energy around them to truly fly.
It was similar to the way he used the air around him to attack, leaping into the air and making himself weightless before he used his own weight to push his sword down into the ground. But it felt far more exhilarating, and Kazuha never felt as free, as right , as he did when he flew.
Kunikuzushi gasped, pressing their face into Kazuha’s shoulder. Their shoulders were shaking, and as Kazuha opened his mouth to ask if they were alright, they threw their head back and laughed .
“You crazy bitch!” they cried, laughing through the words, “we’re actually flying!”
Kunikuzushi practically overflowed with a violent joy, cackling wildly even as Kazuha slowed and had them running through a quiet, half abandoned village as they raced towards Kannazuka. He didn’t let go of them, silk kimono slipping through his fingers.