Archive of Our Own

The fog of the early summer’s morning began to lift, and two companions walked through it. Was there a better time to be private, in public?

Though they mostly stuck to the worn path ahead of them, something caught Ei’s eye off to the side. Sara followed her gaze; a field, with grass that stretched upwards to knee-height.

And a single, vibrant flower.

Ei crossed the field. Sara watched her; it was a miracle how the earth around her didn’t bend to her will, as her people -- Sara, included -- would and did. Ei’s robes trailed behind her without worry, as if the dew that collected on them was like obtaining nature’s prized signature.

Turning around, she huffed a laugh at the sight of Sara standing just on the field’s edge.

“Come here, little bird.”

Sara did so, careful not to step in any foxholes that littered Inazuman grasslands. No sooner did she stop in front of Ei did her hand slide against Sara’s. If Sara couldn’t see Ei’s brilliant smile, nor the way her eyes crinkled with gentle mirth, she would have heard it in her voice.

“My brave General, you are like this flower.” Ei gestured to a lone dendrobium that had bloomed, alone. Sara’s frown made Ei laugh again. “Your beauty is effortless,” she said, stepping into Sara’s space, reveling in the way Sara’s breath hitched.

“My…?”

Ei continued, “It is not enough for you to outshine others, is it?” Her voice was but a whisper, her thumb drawing a slow, contemplative circle on Sara’s cheek.

Sara looked away, but the fingers that tapped her skin drew her attention back to the present.

It didn’t seem true. How could it be true? Outshine?, Sara mouthed .

The warm huff of a laugh accompanied the warmth of a tender smile - it was a sight that Sara wasn’t used to. Well, from Ei, sure -- she had always been affectionate for as long as they had spent time together --, she still wasn’t used to the displays of affection. When had the world last smiled at her?

She wasn’t used to the idea that anyone could love her.

That she was loveable.

“No, you have the gall to outshine everyone, rain or shine.”

Sara watched, mesmerized, as Ei’s eyes lit up with a purple glow, spurring on a misty summer’s rain. She closed her eyes, hearing the rumble of distant thunder, of Ei’s powers asking for her: Well?

Ei was patient; she knew Sara had trouble accepting unconditional love and genuine displays of affection. She would never rush Sara. After all, they had all the time in the world together. Brushing rainwater from Sara’s face, she kissed the damp skin. Ei would take great care in nurturing her healing soldier into a newly realized warrior - one that started to accept the love others gave her, and, with time, begin to see it in herself.

A Sara that loved herself was an idea too good to be true, but possible. Ei couldn’t wait to be there and see the transformation of Sara into her truest self. The thought was powerful, enough that tears sprang to her eyes.

“Even as you stand alone, you do so without wilt. Never has hatred made you wither. Instead…” Ei reached down and summoned the dendrobium to her hand, ascending from her power. It levitated in front of them. “...you rise . No matter the adversity, no matter the difficulty of the situation, no matter if you are alone or with an army, you outshine everyone around you.”

Sara shook her head; her brows furrowed, she closed her eyes. It couldn’t be true. She trusted Ei -- of course she trusted Ei! -- but her words seemed too… sweet . And when things were too sweet, they only worked to push her guard down, forcing her to be vulnerable.

No, Sara couldn’t change, not when it meant protecting herself from the inevitable. Not when shielding herself was the logical move. She couldn’t be set up for failure again.

When she opened her eyes, she gasped at the sight. The smile on Ei’s face was as bright as a ray of sunshine amidst the clouds; the tears that had formed like the sunshower around them.

Such an expression… was it really there for her?

Sara swallowed the lump in her throat. Could Ei be telling the truth? She looked at the dendrobium in front of them, leaves rustling from the gentle breeze, pressed down here and there from the kiss of rain.

She reached out a hand, close to the flower, but not enough to pluck it from Ei’s levitational grasp. Was this flower so special? Did it truly echo Sara’s truth amidst the peerless, empty field?

The rain let up and the clouds overhead made their way towards their next destination, no longer blocking the light from offering the warmth of its blanket to the world below. A gloved finger brushed against a petal, urging a drop of dew onto it. The way the petal bounced back -- something about it -- made her heart ache.

What was different?

“I’m not special,” Sara said, voice forceful, but hesitant. Ei shifted, moving until she pressed her body behind Sara’s, one hand wrapped around her stomach, the other covering her outstretched hand.

“Is that the truth?”

Sara shivered at feeling each word whispered onto her skin. Ei guided Sara’s hand to the dendrobium’s stem.

“In seeking your truth, be not afraid to reach out and grab what is yours.”

With a careful, deliberate touch, both hands closed over the stem. Although Sara’s bottom lip trembled, she made sure to choose her words just as carefully, and deliberately as she had chosen the dendrobium.

“I was uprooted.” Sara shuddered at the memory of being overwhelmed by monsters on the mountain as a child - her first sense that she had failed.

Ei nodded, resting her chin on Sara’s broad shoulder. “You were.”

Sara held her breath. She didn’t like to think back. The way Ei’s hand tightened over Sara’s urged her forward.

“Takayuki, he--...”

When she stumbled, she felt a squeeze around her midsection. It’s alright, I’m here , Ei didn’t need to say aloud. Sara steeled herself.

“...he knew of my situation. At first, he told me he had ‘great hopes’ for me. He almost seemed to like me, back then.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to focus on something, anything other than the heat of guilt burning her gut. She didn’t belong, and he made sure she never believed any different. Her breath stuttered; both of Ei’s arms wrapped around her waist.

“I had messed up before long,” Sara said, voice hoarse. To get each word out took exponentially more effort. The reassuring squeeze she felt allowed her to carry on. “I had caused him humiliation when, once, my wings knocked over the dinner of an esteemed guest onto the ground.”

The event marred young-Sara’s self-image with shame, and her adoptive father made sure she could not move on.

“He had assured me that I had failed him, over and over. He called me ‘worthless’ and… that was when I felt uprooted, for a second time.” Sara chuckled humorlessly, holding up the dendrobium to her eye-line; to her then, the event was catastrophic. Saying it aloud, now? It seemed so… pathetic.

Sara’s voice sped up, as if remembering herself. “My apologies, I-I know it’s disrespectful to speak so candidly of private matters, but--!”

“No.”

Sara’s brows raised, then felt herself being spun to face her beloved. Ei’s glare, cold fury with half-glowing eyes, shocked Sara. The electricity that crackled just under the surface was akin to the power within - a warning to anyone who dared cross her. Sara knew she was not the intended recipient, and yet she could only imagine the terror in the situation if she was .

In this situation, though, Ei’s power would be used against any who would torment her. Would Ei truly display such strength out of a desire to protect her from harm?

Sara’s pulse quickened as it hit her for the first time:

Who else had ever wanted to protect her?

“Sara, if your father knew you were uprooted -- which he did, of this I am certain --, and was given the proper tools and ample opportunity to ensure your expedited growth in your new environment…” Ei’s face scrunched up in disgust. “ He’s the one who failed. Willfully.”

Before Sara could parse what was said, Ei was peppering hundreds of tiny kisses all over her face. It was impossible not to smile at such an aggressively cute display of affection.

Again, Sara lifted the dendrobium, angling it to gain a new perspective. If she were like the flower…

“He was given the proper tools,” Sara echoed, deep in thought. “A pot, potting soil, fertilizer, uhh… adequate lighting?” She whispered, “What else is there?”

Ei laughed. “That’s about right.”

“Well, if he knew this little one was alone in the world and uprooted,” Sara said, gesturing to the dendrobium, “instead of planting it in nutrient-rich soil, he would have shocked it. Perhaps sprayed it with poison. He’s not a good gardener.”

With a smile, Ei stared at the flower as she rested her head against Sara’s chest. “He’s not, and he will not be given the opportunity to harm others, anymore - whether it’s uprooted tengus, or flowers.”

Perhaps, if Sara had to walk her path alone, it would have been harder to see the truths that Ei had laid out so convincingly for her. But Ei’s conviction, her words, and her presence helped her see a different side to her story she would not have otherwise seen. It comforted her to know that Ei would be joining her on her journey; the safety born not only of her undue strength, but love , is what illuminated Sara’s new path.

“You are my guiding light, my Shogun.” Sara hummed, holding Ei flush against her. “I hope I do not live to see myself disappoint you.”

When Ei opened her mouth to protest, Sara shushed her with a soft kiss.

“You mean,” Ei said, “you hope you can change from your perceived failings.” She lifted Sara’s hand and kissed the tip of each finger. “I believe you can do much, and if your goal is to change in some way or another, I have every bit of faith you will succeed. However…”

Ei took the dendrobium from Sara’s hand and affixed it to rest behind her ear, opposite her mask. She spoke again, softer.

“Perhaps the change you wish to make is different from what you wished you could change, back then.” Ei’s hand trailed down to Sara’s cheek, where it stayed. Sara leaned into the touch, determined she could live in that one, singular moment for eternity.

“Ei…”

The two met for a slow, lingering kiss. When they parted, Ei rested their foreheads together and ruffled the downy feathers laid underneath Sara’s longer locks.

Sara groaned at Ei’s feather-light touch. “Perhaps, I do not need to change at all,” she murmured.

Ei smiled at Sara’s realization. The road to recovery was a long one, but she had already taken the first step.

“It is hard to fear that you will fail again when you have not failed to begin with, isn’t that right, little bird?”

EPILOGUE

The stem tickled; Sara had to stop herself from toying with the dendrobium’s placement. She glanced at Ei’s combined hairpiece and hummed.

“Was the main reason for picking the dendrobium so that we could match?”

Ei giggled. “Perhaps.”