Chapter Text
There is a simple joy in receiving a letter. There is an even greater joy, Yae thinks, in sending one. She looks down at the message she has penned. 9,000 words, with the subject line: We need to talk about Penmaster9000. A seed, to be planted. Chaos to sow.
Inazuma is beautiful today. It’s a perfect day for gardening.
---
As much as he would never admit it, Gorou enjoys replying to fan mail under the Ms. Hina moniker. It feels like he is making a real difference in people’s everyday life. Without a doubt, he loves helping people. On the other hand, it is nice to get his letters over with quickly, then he can use the rest of his time to browse the stalls not-looking for cake to not-eat on the hilltops. It is a quiet solitude he quite enjoys. There is nothing quite like-
Dear Missus Hina
I am have with a big problem. My future auntie-in law is trying to kill me! Bwaatt I wuf my boyfriend soo much and it would literally kill me to break up with him ;.;. I don’t thinks she is a homiephobe since we’s both boys but I want to get a long with her! Do you think you can sent help uwu????
Yours truly, boyinlobve
Gorou blinks, trying to comprehend whatever the fuck he had just read. The letters before him do not change. He squints his eyes this time, blurring the letters.
Ah ha! It comes to him suddenly, like water rising in a bathtub. This must be Yae’s attempt at giving him a stroke! She thought she was so clever, almost putting him out of commission like that, luckily he had the foresight to see through her devious trap-
“I see your mind spinning, dear. You really must stop before it burns itself out.”
Gorou looks up from the letter into the half-lidded, violet eyes of the Devil herself. Scratch that. The Devil was your friendly neighborhood Teletubby in comparison to this abomination. Gorou had theorized there was reason she stuck to the cherry blossoms; it was just to coverup the scent of blood that she had to wash out of her maiden robes every night.
“Ha-I caught you this time!” he says proudly, waving the paper around. A victory, at last! The fact that this comes at the cost of the state of Inazuma’s literacy will be left to grieve over at a later date.
Unbothered by his antics, the Guuji in question snatches the paper away from his grasp. She reads it in seconds, a dark, foreboding grin curling across her cheeks.
“Oh my, what an earnest reader,” she purrs.
That wasn’t good, no no. Yae had many faces: the polite, utterly fake one (that was scary), the perpetually amused, teasing one (the scarier one), and then there was the schemer. The I’m-glad-Sangonomiya’s-three-islands-over-because-I-need-to-go right now face.
Many people have a different interpretation of Yae miko’s true character; Gorou can only liken it to trying to catch a wisp of smoke barehanded. It is the name whispered on the lips when people wake in a cold sweat, shivering, and clutching their tails to their chests. Not that he would know, of course.
However, from anecdotal evidence from certain sources, he knew that challenging Yae Miko was a terrible idea. Even worse than a “let’s have a picnic on Yashiori island!**” terrible idea (Again, not that he would know). A predication told him that any confrontation with Yae would end with him in a shrine maiden’s outfit- and while he cannot prove this, his instincts tell him so and they have kept him alive through countless battles.
Right now, they tell him it is a good time to make his leave.
“What do you think, Ms. Hina?”
“I don’t believe this person has ever seen a dictionary in their life,” Gorou says, searching for an exit plan. Number one safety rule- always choose the seat next to the door.
Yae shakes her head, flinging the letter away as he scrambles to catch it. “Dearie, get with times! Anything larger than light novel sees better use as a door stop.”
She stops in place. “Speaking of getting with the times…the Irdori festival went magnificently, didn’t it? So well in fact, I think it set the precedent.”
“I suppose..” Where was she going with this?
“Let me tell you a light novel I’ve read recently,” Yae’s eyes close as she prepars her narration voice, “There once was fearsome general who lead the way in many battles. However, despite his fearsome reputation, he often encountered problems that he could not solve with a bow and arrow. So, he went to the Fish-God, let’s call her Salmonella,”
“Miss Yae, I don’t think that’s-”
“Asking: Oh wise and great Salmonella why do the people fear me so? So the Fish God replied: They do not know of your gentle heart. You must show them through 1000 acts of generosity, and thus your poisoned heart shall be cured.”
Again, where was she going with this?
“The general took these words to heart. So he decided the best way to aide his people in a time of peace was to…dress up as Miss Hina in an upcoming That’s Life meet and greet, obviously.”
…Huh?
Yae has gone from point A to F without even bothering to connect the dots. He definitely hadn’t agreed to that. Fan signings were fine and all, but Ms. Hina was something else. Gorou has received some…interesting fan mail to say the least. For what reason someone would sent him underwear of all things, he could never comprehend. Woman’s underwear.
“This is…a light novel?” he said weakly.
“Yes, that’s right,” Yae says. “Of course, you’ll have to dress the part-” She slaps down a picture on the table.
“Who is that?” Gorou squeaks.
“Miss Hina,” Yae says.
Miss Hina- Gorou stares at the picture. She has two large…eyes, and a large…bow tie in the front. He on the other hand, is a very flat, small man. He isn’t sure how this was going to work, even if he does agree to it. Not to mention, if this is the image being touted to the world, the fan mail starts to make sense. Especially the marriage proposals.
“Miss Yae, are you trying to speedrun getting me murdered?”
“How else am I to achieve a world record these days?” Yae sighs.
That settled it, it was far too dangerous. Gorou would simply politely refuse. Gorou would have to be firm about his boundaries, and make it clear that this was a line he was simply not comfortable crossing. Easy, right?
…
…
Yae Publishing House's Meet and Greet Signing Extravaganza, Day 1
The next day, Gorou finds himself standing in front of a full length mirror in a teal kimono.
He had tried. He had really tried- then Yae had called in a favor here, a bit of blackmailing there, and either way it ended with a silk sash and more cleavage he knew what do with.
Damn.
No really, Gorou doesn’t look half bad. Humbly speaking, at least an 8. Silicon is putting most of the work in. He does a slight twirl. He bounces on his toes. Yep, the physics engine is working- wait what?
“Wonderful,” Yae says, handing him a wig, “I’d be jealous if I were younger.”
Shepherded outside, Gorou is greeted by an overwhelmingly large, expectant crowd. They file in, one by one, to grasp his hands and profess their support, and sometimes snap photos from far too close up. Gorou squints, and tries to keep a pleasant smile on his face.
Even the lovely divine priestess has graced Miss Hina’s fan meet and greet signing extravaganza. Overworked, introverted- he knew nothing stopped the elegant, beautiful Kokomi from accomplishing her goals; in another situation, he would have been beyond flattered by her support. But this…this was not something his troops needed to know.
He begins to sweat. Kokomi is smiling. He must have lost 80% of his body’s water content by now. Hydro vision? Nonsense, that right there was the strongest dehydrator in human form-
“Hello, Miss. Hina.” Her words are pointed and said very purposely. Gorou knows she knows. Hell, she probably knows that he knows she knows.
She giggles, and a spike of true fear lances through him. “I’m such a huge fan of yours.”
His hands are grasped in hers. Kokomi’s grip is like a vice; there is no escaping, even with the copious amount of sweat on his palms.
“That’s fin-tastic. Fan, fantastic.” He stumbles over his words. Kokomi does not look like she appreciates the pun. He looks into her eyes and is viscerally reminded of the time he almost drowned when he was six. Kazuha’s serene face comes to mind.
Don’t ever fuck with nature, his friend had said, face ghostly and backdropped over a rising sun. Well, more accurately, he had worded it as
If you find yourself
In the oceans of the world
Death soon approaches.
Kazuha is of a different calibre and even he couldn’t combat the ocean. If Kokomi asks for a hangout, right here, this might be it for him. She was pulling out a camera- even better. All the respect he has garnered? Dust. So, his waterloo had finally come. This was it, then, he might as well face it like a man. There was truly no escaping this. If this was his final stand, so be it
“Yo! Make way, the one and only Oni coming through!”
Perhaps God was merciful. Kokomi makes a disgruntled face that would have made Osial shit bricks, and steps aside to let a large, well muscled, super defined-
Abs you could grate cheese on, his brain supplies helpfully. No, no that isn’t helpful at all! He feels his cheeks involuntarily beginning to flush. His musculature was admirable, as a fellow work-out enthusiast. He was simply admiring the work another man had put in to achieve his dream body, in a manly way.
For such a boistious presence Itto is known for, he inexplicably falls silent. He takes Gorou’s hand in both of his own. Silent, save for the absolute waterfall of tears streaming down both cheeks.
“Ah…are you…alright?” he asks. Itto is still hanging onto his hands. The man’s thoughts appear to empty, filled by things beyond Gorou’s capacity for imagination.
‘You’re beautiful.”
His heart does not skip a beat, thank you very much. Mr. tail, who has a different opinion than Gorou, emulates a windmill.
And then, as if realizing what he just said, Itto makes a strangled sound somewhere between a yelp and a dying cat wail and immediately lets go of his hands.
“Sorry-” He bows forward to apologize, head slamming hard onto the table. Ouch. It looked quite painful.
“I’m fine! My head’s as hard as my butt,” Itto says loudly, stumbling back. “And horny!”
If Kokomi’s face was terrifying before, it’s inhuman at this point. What was the saying? If looks could kill…Itto would be bottom feeding the Mariana Trench about now.
Oh. Oh dear me. Gorou knew it was bad when his inner monologue started to sound like Yae, which was more times than he’d like to admit.
“No really, are you ok? I think you’re bleeding.” Without thinking Gorou reaches out to cup the man’s cheeks to examine the top of his head, accidently brushing a horn. Itto is strangely warm- a fever?
“Hmm, I don’t see anything-” he notices his kimono has fallen open. “Oh, sorry-”
Itto promptly faints. Itto fainting, from what he had heard, was not a particularly uncommon occurrence- whether due to bean exposure, ramen overconsumption, or apparently punching rock so hard it opens tears reality (According to one Kuki Shinobu). The blissful smile on his face is a little weirder. Gorou is still horrified.
“Oh my god- what happened?!”
“Poor thing. Sensory overload must be very difficult,” Yae says, appearing out of nowhere. For a moment he thought he caught a wisp of a tail, but it could have been just the light. Three men rush in around Itto’s fallen form, taking defensive positions. It’s Itto’s squad, pulling up and ready to unleash fury only a vaguely identical supporting cast could.
“Boss? Boss! What have you done to him, you witch!” One cried out.
“Here, let me help-” he tries.
“Stay away! Take your seductive ways elsewhere,” says the second, waving his hand at him like he was a common housefly.
“My what?!”
“You watch yourself! We have a Shinobu! We’ll win this lawsuit, you hear me?” says the third.
Lawsuit?! This could be devastating. If it were against his employer, it could rope Kokomi into it, which would be even worse. Although Kokomi has moved on to another stall, she is still looking this way. Lawsuit must have caught her ears. She is smiling, eyes in halfmoon crinkles.
But- hold on, they don’t know he’s affiliated with Watatsumi Island. Gorou is affiliated with Watasumi Island. Miss Hina is affiliated with Yae publishing house.
“Go ahead!” Gorou says happily, and instantly regrets it. Yae’s hand clamps onto his shoulder. He might have whimpered, just a little. That woman has a shockingly tight grasp.
“No-one will be suing anyone,” she says, smiling sweetly.
The Arataki gang, drawing from the same sense of impending defeat that he did, took their wounded commander under his arms and retreated. A wise decision. Maybe Gorou should too-
Yae swoops down to whisper in his ear. “If you try that again I’ll sell your stuffed tail as a limited-edition Miss Hina pillow, do I make that clear?”
Gorou gulps, and nods. Yae smiles, and straightes up. Gorou and his tail live to see another day.
Xiangling has stars in her eyes, which meant either sometime wonderful or equally terrible had happened. Xinqiu had looked up from currently checking his mail, as he often did while waiting for Chongyun, at her squeal of utter delight.
“Ooh!! This is almost as good as the time I baked rat’s testicles into the dish of the day a few weeks back!”
“…was that the one you had everyone sample?” Xingqiu choked.
“Forget that! Look! I got a reply from Miss Hina!” She shook the letter under his nose. “You got some premium grade tips to make up with Shenhe! Don’t worry, I’ve heard Miss Hina is smart and gorgeous and is super knowledgeable in all matters of relationships.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Especially love,” she winks.
“Love?” What on earth was she talking about? And why did he need to make up with Shenhe? Sure, he had gotten a strange vibe from her once or twice, but so did a lot of other people. He had thought it due to being adepti raised and all that.
There is something inherently off about that statement. If he were more coherent, perhaps, he would have followed that line of questioning further. Hmm. Xingqiu shrugs, chalking it up to Xiangling being Xiangling, which may nor may not overlap with being clinically insane. He has heard of the popular columnist, “Miss Hina.” How Xiangling had gotten a hold of her, despite being in a foreign country, was a mystery and a half.
Dear boyinlove,
All good relationships start with communication. While I hope your boyfriend’s aunt is not actually trying to kill you, I can imagine how frustrating it can be to feel rejected by someone we want to like us. Sometimes, that person will never like us- and that’s okay! There are plenty of people in this world who will accept you for who you are. Still, as you will likely be seeing her more often, we should still strive for a working relationship. I would advise you to you to start small, give her a gift or invite her to lunch, and try and find common ground. Make it clear that you respect her. While you many not like eachother, you can still give each other the respect you deserve.
Sincerely,
Miss Hina
Xiangling…Xingqiu feels the beginning of a headache coming on. He knew not of someone’s murderous aunt, nor a boyfriend (which ashamed him to admit), and certainly was not a “boyinlove.” Certainly not.
What he needs to do, is reply to Mr. Calx’s letter. Yes, that would be a productive use of time.
“Xingqiu? Whatcha reading today?” Chonyun is leaning over his shoulder.
“Gahh!”
Yae Publishing House's Meet and Greet Signing Extravaganza, Day 2
---
“Penmaster9000? That’s what she’s going with!?”
“Ehe. Has a certain charm, don’t you think?”
“Urghh…I suppose stars have told me a great deal of turmoil lies in their future. Archons knows its deserved.”
---
Gorou’s dreams are nothing special. He is in a snow-covered land- only the snow is frosting. If he digs down, the earth is made of a light vanilla sponge, perfectly moist. He dances, falling into sweet confection, and stares up at a vast sky… just in time to see a giant pancake ready to crush him flat.
The piles of books that slam onto the table are enough to make Gorou jump. He wipes the drool from his mouth to see Yae staring down at him with thinly veiled disgust.
“Read this,” she says, pushing a thin book into his hand. It’s a light novel with a chibified picture of the Raiden Shogun on its cover.
Gorou shrugs, and begins reading.
My dearest Shogunate
Her Excellency is the greatest gift to mankind. I will worship her until the day she dies. Why you may ask?
It all began that day, when she stepped out onto the pavilion. Something awoke in me that very day, like fire roaring to life within my veins. It was love, pure love. I stared at her for what felt like hours, until she finally turned in my direction.
I froze.
Her juicy, perfect orbs were like violets in a thunderstorm. Her hair was elegant and well placed. Her shape is hourglass perfection. Oh, my cute Almighty Shogun, let me sit and cuddle with your squishy tummy, give you sweet treats and belly rubs. Let me rest my eyes on your thick, succlent waifu thighs and suck your toe-
Gorou puts the book down. It is too much. It is time to go home. Penmaster9000 is a worthy adversary, versed in the arts of mind-breakage.
Yae says, “I must highlight, there are specific passages dedicated to corpse preservation and subsequent-”
“Okaaaay!” God, he hopes this fictional and not some incredibly fucked up threat. “Why did you give me this?”. And why is it fourteen pages long?! Perhaps he was being too hasty when he had thought Yae’s intention was to give him a stroke the day prior.
“Why do you think,” Yae replies, surprisingly somber. “Penmaster9000 wishes to steal my place by the Raiden Shogun’s side.”
“That’s what you got out of this?!”
Yae isn’t listening. There’s a purely dark look in her eyes that Gorou is, for once, glad it’s not directed at him. “Kujou Sara has already instructed the Tenrou commission to be on high alert, stretched thin as they are. She’s not any happier about this than I am.”
That made sense. Kujou Sara greatly respected the Almighty Shogun. To see her written in this manor was…worrisome, to say the least. Still, that didn’t answer his previous question.
“So, what do I have to do with this?” Gorou asked. Yae pulled down the next booklet in the pile in response, holding it up.
“There’s one for you, too,” she said.
Gorou stared at the closed cover, definitely not curious.
“Oh, you mean Ms. Hina.”
“No. You, General Gorou.”
Gorou stares at the novel, completely silent.
Yae stares at him, face neutral.
It is a pure standoff. At just like that, the tension is broken.
Gorou lunges for the novel in Yae’s hand. She merely stretches her arm upwards to keep it out of reach. Curse her advantage in height. If he could only find her blasted tail one of these days he’d have an advantage in reach.
“No!” Gorou cries, “You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep blackmailing me!”
“I wasn’t planning to!” Yae exclaims, “I simply wanted to ask for your assistance!”
Gorou stops.
“Really?” He doesn’t believe it for a second, of course, but being reasonable and hearing the other side is part of his job, on and off the battlefield.
“Yes. It’s possible that our mystery writer might make an appearance today, at the signing. I want you to be prepared, and engage if necessary.”
Clear orders, just as he likes. Stake out the area, engage only if necessary. Battles could sometimes be won without confrontation, especially if there was back up in the form of the Tenryou commission. Engage…what exactly did Yae mean by engage though?
Before he can speak, the tent flap is pushed open. To his confusion, no one enters. Perhaps it was the wind?
“Ah, wonderful,” Yae says. “Your security detail is here.”
“Sayu, reporting for duty,” a sleepy voice says. He looks down.
A girl in a tanuki onesie stares back at him with half lidded eyes. She looks to be in desperate need of a caffeinated beverage- well, perhaps she was too young for that.
Wait, this is his security detail?
“Is this Miss Hina?” Sayu asks. Yae smiles. Fantastic. At this point his alter ego would be the worst kept secret in Inazuma.
“Great, I’ll be a potted plant in the corner if you need me,” she yawns, and poofs into, well, exactly that. Plus tail.
“Well, Miss Hina, congratulations,” Yae says. “For the next 24 hours, you will be the most well guarded person in Inazuma.”
Gorou flops his head back down against the table, and wishes he were still dreaming.
The day moves on. With no sign of the mystery Penmaster9000, the signing tables break for lunch. Since Gorou is technically Miss Hina, an entire world of free food has opened before him. Being a responsible general, he would of course offer to pay for it regardless. His offer would then be rejected. It ends up more trouble paying for things than just accepting.
There is one place in particular Gorou wants to go, however. He can find this stall in his sleep.
A perfect slice of pink cake sits in the display. Two layered, with a layer of strawberry jam a mound of whipped cream piled atop it. It is a thing of beauty.
“I’ll have the shortcake,” he says automatically, at the exact time as someone else.
Another strawberry shortcake fan? He glances left, beaming, ready to concede it to his fellow sweet connoisseur, and is met with purple robes. His eyes trail up the long, deepening purple braid to meet a steely, violet gaze.
The Raiden Shogun tilts her head to look down at him.
At one point in his short life, Gorou may have been considered lucky. There must have been some reason people had flocked to rub his ears like some kind of furry messiah. The blessed child of Lady luck.
That luck? Gone, poof, evaporated. Out with the bathwater.
At first it doesn’t even register. Then comes the replay reel of his entire life, the choices he must have made to get here today. Growing up in a small village, joining the army…God, maybe he really was stupid for thinking mud tasted like chocolate when he was 7. Chocolate- he should have gone with the chocolate slice. Then maybe he wouldn’t be in this problem to begin with. Strawberries, who needed strawberries? Fight me, God of Strawberries.
The gentlemen's code screams its way into the forefront of his mind and keeps Gorou’s eyes trained above her neck. He’s not brave enough to look higher, and something tells him that any lower will be the last thing he ever sees. Mustache level. Ha, imagine the puppet with a mustache- no, it doesn’t make it any less scary.
“Ms. Hina,” the Electro Archon begins politely. “I wish to go on a date with you.”
God of Strawberries, do you hate me? But his God was right there. She wanted a date.
Her delivery had been painfully wooden. This is a hallucination. It had to be. He had proofread too many of Yae’s trashy light novels and had passed from exhaustion only to be transported to a new reality. The shopkeeper of cake was staring at him, open mouthed. He tries to communicate with his eyes to say, are you seeing this too? It was to no luck. The man was frozen.
“Are… are you sure?” he squeaks out.
“I have been told I should experience Modern Inazuma more. And Miko says you are desirable company. Is this not true?”
Of course, she had her hand in this. He shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.
Is there a way to reject your god without getting fried alive? It would be a hell of a question to receive in the column. Hey Miss Hina, how do I tell a woman she’s 700+ years too old for me without making a crack at her age? It isn’t as if he doesn’t find her attractive, what, with his type including but not limited to people that could crush him with their thighs alone. Oh my god, that Penmaster9000’s novel is coming to mind at the worst time possible-
This is the Shogun. As in the Raiden Shogun. As in the person who cut the head off a giant snake god on the island next over and its fossilized skull is still there, no biggie.
Gorou begins to feel a little faint.
“I would like two of the strawberry,” the Raiden Shogun says, pointing at the display. The shopkeeper hands them over, mute. He doesn’t ask for a price.
“Well, Miss Hina, where would you like to sit?” she asks, holding up two white boxes. “Perhaps in the shade?”
Gorou doesn’t know how it happened, but he finds himself sitting under a blossoming tree with the god of Inazuma.
The Raiden Shogun busies herself with opening the boxes, and he is unable to stop his ears from flicking from the sound of cardboard.
He should tell the truth- no, even better, say he’s interested in someone already.
“I’m sorry, but I have feelings for someone already,” he rushes out. She looks at him quizzically. Shit, was that believable? Should he drop a name to make it more credible? He shouldn’t have to justify himself in the first place! Inazuma is a free country (ok maybe not), he could be single in any way he damn well pleases, pining over well-built men, beautiful women, and everything in between.
Quick, he must go with the first person that comes to mind. Person- his brain screams at him, so tries to focus on one instead of some blended monstrosity-
“Kazukokomitto,” he quickly says, and wants to slap himself right there. Honesty is not a good color on him.
“…Who?”
Gorou wants to cry from relief. Lady luck has not abandoned him- NOT TODAY.
“Oh, they’re from Sangonomia. They make…pottery.”
“Pottery. Interesting, I will think to remember such an unusual name,” she comments.
Is lying to the shogun’s face considered a crime? It probably is. He squints at her, trying to discern the Shogun’s expression.
The Shogun is thankfully not looking at him anymore, focus entirely consumed by the dessert. Even his own love of sweets cannot get him to touch his. When she finishes, she looks down at his plate, daresay longingly.
“Oh, do you want mi-”
It strikes Gorou then, who exactly he is sitting with. On a grassy hill, like old friends, he is sitting with the person who had struck down friends, comrades, and his soldiers without hesitation. This was someone who had nearly cleaved Kazuha and the Traveler in two. His grip shakes.
Kazuha. His material construction was of a unique make. He had managed to withstand a blow from her- so he should at the very least be able to keep it together.
“You don’t forgive me,” her voice had a dreamlike quality that made it seem far away despite how close she was physically. She states it like there is no question to it, like it is merely an observation. There is a glaze to her eyes that reminds him of petals and still water. A lonely tree on a cliff. Heartache.
At his silence, she sighs, and her chin drops to stare at her hands. “I do not expect you to. I have failed many. Inazuma. My allies. My…creations.”
She shakes her head quickly, seemingly embarrassed. “Forgive me, I have no business sharing my troubles with you. I not sure why, but you are surprisingly easy to talk to.”
Empathy has always come naturally to Gorou. It’s probably what makes him an excellent colomunist. Even still, it’s surreal, seeing this from this- who was once an infallible enemy. An archon. Someone who should be incomprehensible, and impossible to relate to. She still was, and yet, the sliver of humanity that had been exposed had left him shaken.
He looks up; the Sakura above is still blooming, and he knows why it bothers him now. It’s beautiful, it’s elegance incarnate-t’s unnatural, the way the blooms never curl or wither. Never know decay. Its fragrance is sweet, but it mingles with the cake on his palette and makes him feel sick.
Perhaps it was their ephemeral quality that had made them beautiful to begin with.
“No,” he says, and curls around his knees. His eyes flick over, before quickly looking away. He slides the plate of cake towards her without looking. “I don’t forgive you. But I can tell you’re willing to change. I respect that.”
He thinks of the battles, fought in the name of the rebellion. Of Kujou Sara knocking an arrow across at him on the sand littered by the fallen. And no, he cannot forgive her. But empathy has always come easily to Gorou, so when he meets her gaze again, he lets any hostility go like a passing petal in the wind. It is a time of peace.
The Shogun finishes her cake in contemplative silence.
“Thank your for chatting with me,” she says, placing the plate to her side, “I am doing my best to speak to the people of Inazuma more often. And,” there is a hint of a smile, “I can see why Miko is fond of you.”
Gorou is almost certain the Shogun has mistaken “fondness” for “prime bullying material.” Then again, perhaps in Yae’s mind, they are one and the same. She is as readable as doctor’s handwriting.
“In fact, it reminds me of her younger days. Such a sweet, naïve little-”
“Your excellency, please don’t put my life in danger.”
“Ei. Please call me Ei, General.”
Gorou considered asking her to promptly demonstrate the Musou no Hitotachi right then and there. He could die as the greatest target practice ever. Surely that wasn’t already taken. How many people have died that way, again? He should really calm down.
“I should be getting back,” he babbles, bowing as he stands. “To the booth, I mean. Not that I haven’t enjoyed this, I have, but I can’t show too much bias…ah…Good talk.” Ooh, even his toes curl at that one.
The Shogun merely smiles. “Good talk.”
He scurries away back towards the main road, wanting to hide his face from the world. In his utter embarrassment, senses distracted, he fails to notice the shadow that follows him back.
When Gorou turns, it is too late. The cloth is over his mouth and nose. His eyelids droop, heavy, and he falls into a deep sleep in the arms of a stranger.
---
“Penmaster9000 has taken the bait,” Sayu says. The man before her in white robes does not turn around, but she knows he has heard her.
Sayu doesn’t know all the details (which is her own fault arguably), but she wonders if this has anything to do with how pancake thin the Tenyrou commision’s been spread recently. It would make sense, that she of all people was being called into action. Who knows what plans were currently afoot…well, that was for someone else to worry about.
“Good,” Kamisato Ayato says evenly, surveying the night. “Thus we move into stage 2.”
Penmaster9000, had, unfortunately, pissed off a long conga line of people. Ayato has no doubt he will continue to do so. Well, it’s amusing for him either way.