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“What’s all the commotion?” Kujou Sara asks, stepping out of her office at the sound of yelling.
“There’s a thief getting away,” a man whose face she can’t quite place huffs. “It’s an embarrassment for the Police Station for a petty criminal like that to escape, but he just made it out the door.”
The general doesn’t need to hear anything else — she’s off like a bolt of lightning, utilizing the legendary speed of the tengu to be out the front door herself in mere seconds. She launches herself into the air immediately, eyes scanning the street. Whether or not the Police Station is embarrassed is immaterial — all criminals must be captured and given fair and even punishment for their actions. This thief is no exception.
The thief isn’t hard to spot, given he’s the only one running and the fact that he’s making his way away from the Police Station. She’s about to swoop down in pursuit when she sees him crash into a green-haired woman.
Kujou Sara’s eyes go wide as she watches the item the woman was carrying — a Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder, of all things — fly into the air, heart clenching at the thought of such a precious object being damaged for such a foolish reason.
To her surprise, however, the green-haired woman reacts instantly. Her hand lashes out with a speed that even a tengu might struggle to match, snatching the Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder safely out of the air and cradling it gently against her chest.
Kujou Sara breathes a sigh of relief, but the surprises don’t stop there:
Without missing a beat, the woman spins around and sweeps the thief’s legs out from under him in one of the most perfectly-executed moves the general has ever had the pleasure of seeing. She doesn’t think a single one of the soldiers under her command could hope to rival it.
The tengu allows herself to float gently back to the ground, frowning as the surrounding crowd piles onto the thief. She doesn’t, on general principle, tend to approve of civilians getting involved in police matters — the danger to their lives is unacceptable, and they lack the rigorous training she puts her subordinates through to ensure minimal harm is done to those they restrain. The thief is almost certainly going to have some nasty bruising after the beating he seems to be receiving, and, well…
Even if he had almost damaged a Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder, he doesn’t deserve to be beaten.
“All right, break it up,” Kujou Sara calls, striding forward. “Leave this to the Tenryou Commission, please.”
The crowd disperses immediately, many casting nervous looks back at her. The general sighs and jerks her head at the moaning man on the ground, and the subordinates who followed her out the door hurry to arrest him once more.
She turns her attention now to the green-haired woman, who seems to be watching the arrest with mild interest.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Kujou Sara says, giving a shallow bow. “Your skill is impressive, and I’m glad you were able to protect your Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder. On behalf of the Tenryou Commission, I would like to apologize for the fact that our failure to properly secure a prisoner almost resulted in damage to such a valuable item.”
The woman looks at her curiously, then lets out a soft laugh.
“It’s not mine,” she says easily. “I was commissioned to perform some maintenance on it by Harukawa Shinsuke, since he threw out his hip the other day. Given the return address, and how recognizable you are… I’d say it’s yours, Madam Kujou Sara.”
Kujou Sara accepts the offered Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder reverently, the magnitude of the disaster that had been averted increasing significantly in her mind as she does.
“Then I owe you my deepest gratitude,” Kujou Sara says, hugging her Statue of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder tightly to her chest as she offers the green-haired woman the deepest bow she can. “Thank you for saving this. It’s extremely important to me. May I ask your name?”
The fact that a lacquerware professional has such impressive combat skills is startling — Kujou Sara had taken her for an adventurer of some kind — but civilians with an unusual degree of might aren’t entirely foreign to her. She’s briefly crossed paths with Naganohara Yoimiya outside of the city a few times when the other woman is clearing out monsters to ensure the area remains safe for children to play in, and, well…
The tengu had never imagined it was possible for anyone short of the Almighty Shogun to kill a lawachurl so quickly until she had seen the inhuman speeds at which the firework-maker can move and the sheer power behind the blazing arrows she fires from her simple bow. It had made Kujou Sara feel somewhat inadequate, really, for all that she’s sure her skills at hand-to-hand exceed the other woman’s.
Probably.
…She wouldn’t want to fistfight a lawachurl, though.
What Kujou Sara may lack in strength, however, she hopes to make up for with devotion. She’s confident that nobody in Inazuma save her adoptive father Takayuki exceeds her in loyalty to the Shogun, and she hopes to one day be able to match the reverence that he feels.
“Kuki Shinobu,” the woman introduces, offering the general her own polite bow. “Jack-of-all-trades.”
“Are you not a lacquerware craftswoman, then?” Kujou Sara asks.
“Well…” Kuki begins, but trails off. “I’ve got advanced certification in lacquerware, so both its creation and its maintenance are well within my abilities, but no, it’s not full-time work for me, if that’s what you mean. I work on commission in a variety of fields: law, adventuring, lacquerware, textiles…”
The general is… impressed. Normally she might doubt a claim to possessing so many skills (Kuki is still going, after all), but between her awareness of Naganohara’s own similarly lengthy skillset and the way that Kuki is listing off her certifications with about as much interest as one might read their grocery list…
Well, she doubts it’s simply bragging, especially given she has evidence for the woman’s skill at both lacquerware and martial arts.
“An incredible resume,” Kujou Sara says honestly. “Surely someone with so many skills could find full-time employment?”
“Ah, no,” Kuki says, waving her hands and laughing awkwardly. “I’m… well, I don’t want to be tied down like that. I’m looking for a job that can give me real freedom, but nothing I’ve tried so far seems like it really fits the bill…”
“‘Real freedom…’” Kujou Sara murmurs.
Kuki’s skills are diverse and valuable. If the general could acquire her as a lecturer for the Tenryou Commission, she thinks it would be the most valuable personnel acquisition she’s ever made, and if she hires Kuki in the capacity of a personal aide, it should be possible to allow the woman to set her own hours and have the freedom she desires (so long as she performs a reasonable amount of work, of course).
It’s worth extending the offer, if nothing else.
“Kuki, if you were to work for me at the Tenryou Commission,” Kujou Sara begins.
She cringes internally at how awkward the words come out, but she’s never directly attempted to hire someone like this before and it has her nerves on fire. This is much easier on the other side of a desk, going through a standard interview with an application detailing the skills and desires of the other party in front of her. There she can fall back on custom and practice, but here she has nothing but herself to rely on.
“You’d be able to choose your working hours,” she continues, forcing herself to press on without so much as a twitch of her facial muscles. “I would just want you to give lectures on the law and provide martial arts training, as and when your schedule allowed.”
It’s a somewhat absurd concession to offer to an unknown, but…
Kujou Sara knows a skilled martial artist when she sees one, and she’s always seeking ways to improve her abilities and those of her subordinates.
“Uh…” Kuki starts, then waves her hand. “First of all, please, just call me Shinobu. I’m not too fond of my family name. As for your offer… Hmm…”
Kujou Sara holds her breath as she watches Ku— Shinobu think.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’d better not. Civil service is a bit too limiting for my goals…” Shinobu hums, shaking her head. She bites her lip for a moment, then continues. “But if I could give those lectures part-time, I’d be more than happy to arrange something with you.”
“Of course you can,” Kujou Sara agrees immediately. “Your expertise would be a boon to the Tenryou Commission even on such terms.”
It’s not quite what she’d hoped for, but it makes little functional difference whether Shinobu is working part-time while hired as full-time or part-time while contracted for the specific occasions she’s willing to work. The main advantage of the former would be the ability to call upon her when necessary from the Tenryou Commission’s end, without worrying that other work would get in the way…
Which, Kujou Sara supposes, is exactly why it would be ‘too limiting.’
She understands, but it’s still a little disappointing.
“In that case, I’ll look forward to working with you,” Shinobu says, producing a business card that the tengu accepts. “Just hit me up when you’ve got some ideas about what you’d like me to do, okay? We can hammer out a time.”
“I will, thank you,” Kujou Sara agrees.
They bow to each other again, and Kujou Sara watches as the other woman strides away. Only when Shinobu is out of sight does she look down at the business card, quickly committing the address and hours when Shinobu is available for business consultation to memory.
The tengu slips the card into a pocket and, with a sigh, turns to return to the police station.
She has a great deal of work to do, and can’t afford to be distracted by the possibilities now. She’ll just have to make sure to schedule time in the future.
In the end, it takes almost three weeks before Kujou Sara finds herself nervously knocking on Shinobu’s door. Most of this is due to an uptick in arrests — the thief, as it turned out, had been part of a moderately-sized gang attempting to establish itself, and rooting them out had become the primary focus of police activity.
That’s over and done with now, and so the general finally has time to turn her attention to other things, like furthering the education of herself and those she leads.
“Oh, Madam Kujou,” Shinobu greets as she opens the door. “I had wondered when you might be by.”
“I had hoped to have time sooner,” Kujou Sara admits. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Shinobu.”
The tengu isn’t use to addressing people by their first names, and it still feels somewhat awkward. All the more so, given…
“And please,” Kujou Sara mumbles. “Just call me ‘Sara.’ We’re going to be working together, after all.”
If Shinobu were simply going to be her subordinate, or if she didn’t have enough distaste for her last name to request the tengu avoid using it, it’s unlikely that Kujou Sara would have been able to push herself to say something, but… their relationship here is a more even one than that. Something in her stomach finds the idea of being called ‘Madam Kujou’ by someone she’s working with on equal terms and for whom she uses their first name deeply unpleasant.
“Sara, then,” Shinobu agrees easily. “I suppose you’ve been giving some thought to what you’d like me to do?”
“I have,” Kujou Sara says. “…It may be somewhat rude of me, as a guest, but… may we begin with a spar? I would like to assess your hand-to-hand abilities.”
“I’d love to,” Shinobu replies, a smile flashing across her face. “I don’t get to test myself against warriors of my level often. I think the yard should be big enough, unless you had a location in mind?”
“No, that would be perfect,” Kujou Sara agrees. “Thank you.”
While she doesn’t think it’s showing on her face, the general is just as excited for the spar as Shinobu seems to be. She’s never worked up the courage to challenge Naganohara or either of the Kamisatos to a spar, and none of those she knows in the Tenryou Commission have proven able to match her. If Shinobu is as strong as the tengu thinks she is…
Kujou Sara barely has time to step out the back door before she finds herself dodging a punch, which itself is a distraction from a leg sweep that likely would have worked on most, though the general is capable of hopping over it with ease. The followup strike aimed at her stomach is a clever choice, as any ordinary opponent would be unable to effectively dodge in midair — but Kujou Sara is a tengu, and a swift beat of her wings has her evading the strike and appearing behind Shinobu in a swirl of black feathers.
The tengu can’t help it — she smiles. The sheer ruthlessness of a surprise attack before what was meant to be a friendly spar, the impressive speed and grace with which Shinobu moves… it’s everything she hoped for, and she feels the thrill of a fight flowing through her veins.
She touches back down on the ground before launching her own attack — contrary to what some of her subordinates seem to believe, engaging in melee combat while in midair is a remarkably foolish idea. Without the ground to brace herself against, her strikes lose a significant amount of power and it becomes far easier for her opponent to shift her position with their own strength. The reason that the traditional weapon of the tengu of Inazuma is the bow is the way that it can be used from the air with little loss of efficiency.
Kujou Sara’s fist only narrowly misses Shinobu’s ear, but she doesn’t think it’s because the other woman had difficulty dodging — the focused look on her green-haired opponent’s face suggests to her that Shinobu is well aware that her human stamina is inferior to that of a youkai like the general. It’s likely that the degree of her evasion was a calculated risk, judging that even if Kujou Sara clipped her ear with the strike it would do little to affect her ability to continue fighting.
A thinking opponent, then. The best kind to have in a spar, and the worst to have in a fight. Kujou Sara doubts she would stand a chance of victory if Shinobu had time to prepare the battlefield with traps ahead of time — while she’s skilled at in-battle judgment, her own planning skills are… lacking.
As the spar continues, the general finds herself more and more impressed with Shinobu’s skills. She may be the most even match that Kujou Sara has ever encountered.
She does, however, have one weakness, and in a moment of sudden reversal Kujou Sara’s wings manifest from her back to buffet Shinobu’s face and allow her to deliver a devastating blow to the other woman’s stomach.
Shinobu coughs, hunching over, and Kujou Sara wastes no time in sweeping her legs out from under her and placing her foot next to her head, the implication clear.
“Good fight,” Shinobu wheezes. “You really pack a punch.”
“You as well,” Kujou Sara compliments as she offers Shinobu her hand. “If you had experience fighting tengu, I’m not sure who would have won.”
The other woman takes it, and the general pulls her to her feet. They smile at each other, and Kujou Sara wonders briefly if this is what it feels like to have a friend… though given how short and business-oriented their association has been, the thought is incredibly presumptuous of her.
“Those wings of yours are really something,” Shinobu chuckles, shaking her head as she gently disentangles her hand from the tengu’s. “I’m going to have to give some thought to how to handle them, because there’s no way that’s all you can use them for.”
Kujou Sara can’t help her own chuckle as she nods in agreement.
“I can do a lot with them,” she agrees. “They’re much sturdier than they look, though…” She winces, a memory of burning pain causing her left wing to twitch. “When they do get damaged, it can… take a long time for them to recover, so I prefer to use them sparingly.”
Youkai are far hardier than humans, and physical damage is generally less of a threat to their bodies, but… the speed of recovery from injury varies greatly depending on how much youkai power they possess.
Kujou Sara had, on one terrifying and memorable occasion, seen Lady Yae smile and simply remove an arrow that had pierced cleanly through her heart as if it had been nothing more than a bit of lint on her sleeve. The only evidence that she had been shot at all was the hole in her clothing, but the nobushi who had attacked them had been… less fortunate. At times, Kujou Sara still hears their screams in her nightmares.
The general is not nearly that old and powerful, and with the lifespan of a tengu being so much shorter than that of a kitsune is unlikely to ever be quite so formidable. Even so, injuries on the order of broken limbs still recover within a handful of weeks.
Her wings are another matter. As a symbol of the tengu, a great deal of her youkai power is tied up in them: damage to her wings damages her power and thus her ability to heal herself, and requires time to recover on a spiritual rather than merely physical level.
“That makes sense,” Shinobu accepts. “I hope we can do this again — I haven’t had so much fun in a spar in a long time.”
“I haven’t either,” Kujou Sara agrees. “I would very much enjoy a rematch.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it, then,” Shinobu says, smiling as she stretches. “Did I pass your little test?”
“Unquestionably,” Kujou Sara replies immediately. “Would you be available at some time next week to give a demonstration to the Tenryou Commission? It seems to me at times that some believe my strength is unreachable for them as ordinary humans, and I would like them to see proof otherwise.”
“Well, I’m only a little ordinary,” Shinobu laughs, raising a hand with fingers covered in crackling electricity. “But if that’s okay, then sure.”
“I didn’t miss your Vision,” Kujou Sara chuckles, shaking her head. “But I doubt it matters much here, given this will only be a hand-to-hand session.”
“I should have time, then,” Shinobu agrees. “Let me see…”
The general follows the other woman back inside and waits patiently as Shinobu checks a ledger.
“Would Thursday afternoon work for you?” Shinobu asks. “Perhaps around 3?”
The tengu frowns for a moment as she tries to think of any way it would conflict with scheduling, then nods sharply.
“That should be perfect,” she agrees.
“I’ll pencil you in, then,” Shinobu says. “Now, about fees…”
As they hash out payment details, Kujou Sara is confident that this lecture will be enormously popular.
She was right. The excited chattering as the Tenryou Commission’s soldiers slowly filter back out of the training ground in which the lecture had been held makes clear that the demonstration was wildly successful.
“Thank you very much for your time,” Kujou Sara says, bowing deeply. “I think you’ve inspired them to work harder at their training. Hopefully future lectures will go as well.”
“We’ll make sure they do,” Shinobu says, yawning and stretching languidly. “Wanna go get dinner? It’s a little early, but I could eat after all that.”
The general blinks, words suddenly feeling remarkably distant. She’s never received a dinner invitation before, but…
“…Yes, all right,” Kujou Sara accepts. “I think I would like that. Did you have somewhere in mind?”
Shinobu is clever and strong, and spending part of the evening in her company sounds much less lonely than the solitary training that the tengu had been planning to engage in. She’s not really sure she knows how to make small talk, but as this is no doubt one of the ‘business dinners’ she’s heard so much about she doubts that will matter much.
“There’s a stall I like not too far from here,” Shinobu says. “Maybe a fifteen-minute walk. We’d need to find somewhere to sit down, but the food is good.”
“Very well,” Kujou Sara agrees. “I have no objections.”
The walk isn’t filled with the awkward silence that the general had half-expected it to, Shinobu engaging her in a surprisingly lively discussion of how their demonstration had gone. It’s fascinating to hear an outside perspective on her fighting, especially coming from someone as observant as Shinobu, and it gives her a few areas that she would like to focus on in her future training.
All too soon they arrive at the stall, and shortly after they’re settling down on a stone fence to eat. When she has only a few bites of food remaining, Kujou Sara plucks up her courage.
“Have you perhaps reconsidered my offer?” she asks. “You saw how much everyone enjoyed learning from you…”
Shinobu lets out a soft huff of laughter and shakes her head.
“Sorry, Sara,” she says. “But I just can’t see myself working for the Tenryou Commission. There’s far too much duty involved, and…”
The way that Shinobu grimaces is… not promising. What reason might she struggle to speak?
“Please, continue,” Kujou Sara says softly.
Shinobu sighs and nods, and speaks words that leave the tengu dizzy:
“I could never give my loyalty to an organization so corrupt.”
“Corrupt?” Kujou Sara asks. Her voice sounds distant and unfamiliar to her own ears. “The Tenryou Commission? I… We’re the ones who…”
She struggles for words, unable to find a way to express her sheer disbelief… and, perhaps, fear.
“…The way the Tenryou Commission treats the people isn’t always exactly in accordance with the Almighty Shogun’s laws,” Shinobu says carefully. “I don’t mean to fault the Shogun for it, her laws to date have certainly been just… But out of her sight, the enforcers are abusing her people, and to some of them, it seems like she doesn’t care. Me, I think she just doesn’t know. She’s a god, but it’s not like she can know every bit of police action in the city, let alone the entire nation, you know?”
“Can you give me an example?” Kujou Sara asks, voice far more calm than she feels.
She needs something concrete. She needs to be able to investigate and prove Shinobu wrong, that the Tenryou Commission is just, that the keepers of Inazuma’s laws can be trusted, that they’re deserving of loyalty.
…And if, by some horrible chance, Shinobu is right…
She needs to execute her role, no matter on whose neck the sword falls.
“…Go to Hanamizaka,” Shinobu says after a long moment. “Find Naganohara Yoimiya, and ask her about the fire brigade. Take a walk, ask the people what they’re like. Then ask yourself… are they the only ones?”
The general barely has the presence of mind to return Shinobu’s bow as the other woman departs, mind focused on what she needs to do now.
She is Kujou Sara, and her loyalty to the Almighty Shogun is second only to that of Master Takayuki. Nobody, absolutely nobody, is exempt from facing justice at her hands.
It takes her a few days to make all of the arrangements for an official investigation, but the general refuses to allow a lack of proper procedure to render her efforts here void if the worst proves true. Thankfully she’s able to simply sign off on the paperwork herself and place it far enough back in the filing queue that nobody is likely to find out about it until she’s done with the actual legwork. In the case that her investigation turns up nothing, she’ll probably even have time to sneak it back out and destroy it without anybody being the wiser.
Which brings her to now, standing on the doorstep of a humble house in Hanamizaka.
Kujou Sara steels herself, ensuring a mask imitating the the rigid composure that she’s known for is as firmly in place as possible.
It won’t help her hide her feelings from the woman she’s about to speak with, but it makes her feel a little more in control and…
Well.
Naganohara Yoimiya is, to her great credit, far more fair and neutral towards Kujou Sara than almost anyone in Inazuma who’s not a part of the Tenryou Commission. Within the Tenryou Commission Kujou Sara is widely respected, and she’s received commendations from the Almighty Shogun herself on three occasions so far, but among the people…
The common folk seem to prefer to avoid her, and Naganohara is no different. It had, however, taken Kujou Sara a while to realize this — Naganohara had always treated her so politely and, it had seemed, warmly on the handful of occasions their paths had crossed, whether it be because of complaints about her activities (often baseless, Kujou Sara has learned, but thorough investigation is always merited nonetheless) or simply coincidental timing.
And then Kujou Sara had seen Naganohara interacting with a middle-aged woman on the street and almost had her breath stolen away by the warmth that radiated from the firework-maker’s demeanor, a warmth present in all of the other interactions she’s observed between Naganohara and others since (save the once that Kujou Sara saw her speaking to the Yashiro Commissioner, but well — the clear distaste both had held for each other isn’t something that Kujou Sara can exactly fault Naganohara for, given Kamisato Ayato’s… unique… personality).
Naganohara Yoimiya, Kujou Sara thinks, is like the sun. For most she’s the gentle sun at the perfect point on a winter afternoon — warm and inviting, keeping them safe and loved and supported. For her enemies, like the monsters Kujou Sara has seen her fighting or that unpleasant blue man, she’s the blazing sun on a hot summer day, frightening and powerful in her intensity. For Kujou Sara…
For Kujou Sara, she’s the sun in the early morning: faint and distant, though a hint of its light and warmth still shines through.
After realizing the truth, Kujou Sara would almost prefer she be treated as an enemy and burned alive rather than receive only the tiny glimpse of Naganohara’s kindness that she does. It would, if nothing else, make the aching loneliness in her chest go away.
She doesn’t dare to hope to ever have anyone ever give her anything remotely like the dazzling grin she once saw Naganohara give the Shirasagi Himegimi or the soft, smitten smile the silver-haired girl (always so icily polite to the general, and so quick to enter into conflict with her over matters where she feels the tengu is too rigid) had given her in return, but…
A friend would be nice. Shinobu is someone she seems to have vaguely friendly relations with, of course, but she doesn’t want to presume that she’s anything but a client with whom the other woman would like to remain on good terms for the sake of future work.
Kujou Sara knocks on the door before the temptation to flee grows strong enough to prevent it, and has to wait only moments for it to swing open.
“Hello th—” Naganohara begins, but stops when she recognizes the one darkening her doorstop. Kujou Sara resists the urge to flinch as Naganohara’s shoulders drop, the motion such a tiny one that anyone without the eyes of a tengu would likely have failed to notice it. “Madam Kujou. Did someone file a complaint again…?”
“No,” Kujou Sara disagrees, shaking her head. “Please, be at ease. I’m here on other business — I was actually hoping you might be able to help me with an investigation.”
“Oh?” Naganohara cocks her head curiously, then steps back and gestures for Kujou Sara to enter. “Please come in, then.”
“Thank you,” the tengu accepts.
She hesitantly enters the building, casting her eyes nervously around. It’s a far smaller and homier-feeling place than the large house she was raised in in the Kujou compound. Naganohara leads her to a small table set up in the kitchen and busies herself preparing tea, dismissing Kujou Sara’s attempt at polite protest with a knowing smile.
…It’s good tea, and even just a few sips has the general’s nerves settling a little. Naganohara is a frightening woman indeed.
“I’m… investigating some reports of potential corruption in the fire brigade,” Kujou Sara admits. “And I had some questions for you.”
Even something as simple as acknowledging the possibility that an organization that’s part of the Tenryou Commission itself — and under Master Takayuki’s own direct oversight, at that — may be engaged in such behavior is painful, but Kujou Sara refuses to let that stop her.
The truth must be dug out, and the guilty must be punished — the Almighty Shogun’s laws cannot be subverted, her people cannot be harmed, by those meant to uphold and protect them.
Kujou Sara will not allow it.
“Oh,” Naganohara murmurs, the most solemn look on her face that Kujou Sara thinks she’s ever seen from the woman.
Naganohara gazes down into her teacup, then knocks it back and drains it in a single impressively long and loud slurp. She sets it back on the table with a click, and affixes Kujou Sara with a stern look.
“The story between the fire brigade I and isn’t a pretty one, on either side,” Naganohara warns. “Are you sure you want to ask me?”
“I’m sure,” Kujou Sara says firmly. “And… I swear to you, nothing you tell me today will be used against you. Please, be as honest as you can.”
“Don’t worry, I already planned to,” Naganohara sighs, running her finger around the rim of her cup. “Defending myself isn’t important next to at least trying to put a stop to their bullying. Even if I got arrested for a little while or had to pay a fine… if it meant the people of Hanamizaka could get a break, it’d be so worth it.”
Kujou Sara’s respect for Naganohara — and dread for the story she’s about to hear — both go up several notches.
“Thank you,” Kujou Sara murmurs. She sets her notebook on the table and prepares to take down everything Naganohara says. “Please, whenever you’re ready.”
Naganohara nods, and begins:
“The first time the fire brigade and I got into it was my fault. I was still a kid, and my pops let me handle some of the work for a big ceremony at the Grand Narukami Shrine. It wasn’t enough to be called my first real show, but I was pretty involved, you know? Had my name attached as the organizer and everything. And, well… it went wrong. Really wrong.”
Naganohara sighs, a pained look crossing her face.
“There were Yashiro Commission officials whose job it was to actually set off the fireworks, as usual — we Naganohara only do it personally for certain special events, that’s how it always is. And… it was my first time doing anything like it, and the instructions I gave them… They weren’t very good. I didn’t realize how detailed I had to be, or how important it was to be clear about some of the things that are second nature to me… and there was a big fire as a result. The fire brigade were pissed and they had every right to be. They’ve never liked me much since then, and if it were just that, then whatever, right? It was my fault, I earned it, and I fully accept it. But… there was this thing last year with a traveling witch that made them watch me even more closely, even though nothing actually happened with that. Not for lack of her trying, though, and…”
Naganohara bites her lip and looks away.
Kujou Sara remembers that witch, and oh how her wing aches at the memory. She wishes she could forget, but being badly maimed by a careless potions experiment in the Tenshukaku kitchen is the kind of thing one tends to remember. The fact that Naganohara had a run-in with the woman as well, and seems to have come out of it with a similarly negative opinion, makes the hand that the tengu has resting on her thigh curl into a fist.
If that witch never visits Inazuma again, it will be too soon.
“It almost did. Something about being around her… made me more reckless than usual, and I can already be pretty bad sometimes. In hindsight, I don’t think I’d want to meet her again, and I’m really glad the Shogun was there, but—”
“Wait,” Kujou Sara interrupts. “Did you say that the Almighty Shogun was there?”
“She was,” Naganohara agrees. “She turned up around the time we were kicked out of the city and moved to the beach for our experiments, and she kept a pretty close eye on the witch… She did ask me a few questions about fireworks too, though. She’s pretty interested in them, I think? It’s a little hard to be sure, because I don’t think she entirely knows herself. They’re so far from her definition of Eternity, after all… maybe the furthest thing away, really. Still, she praised my work, like she did after my first real show.”
Kujou Sara has no idea how to process this. Naganohara’s words about the Almighty Shogun possessing uncertainty border on blasphemy, and the idea of the deity being interested in fireworks is almost unnatural, given their transience…
But if the Almighty Shogun has praised Naganohara’s work, let alone personally done so in a one-on-one setting as the other woman implies…
Then the Almighty Shogun has demonstrated more personal interest in Naganohara Yoimiya and her work than in Kujou Sara’s efforts with the Tenryou Commission.
…but…
…if the vague half-memory of Her Excellency standing over her after the loud noise and searing pain in her wing as she was thrown across the room, of being lifted up by strong arms as her consciousness faded… happens not to be a dream she’d had while delirious from injury after all… if the Almighty Shogun had protected Kujou Sara from the witch just as she had Naganohara, even if she had done it without speaking to her…
Kujou Sara does not dare to hope, but something in her heart eases. Just a little.
“Anyway, um… my shows since have gone great, Ayaka took over all of the safety precautions and personally reads over my instructions to see if anything seems lacking. I don’t know what I would do without her, you know? She’s so awesome. The fire brigade still hates me, they say Ayaka’s plans for them are too much work… but there haven’t been any big fires from my shows since, just a few small ones where, well…”
Naganohara hesitates.
“Go on,” Kujou Sara says, as gently as she can. “I believe you.”
It’s verifiable truth, after all. No notable fires have occurred during festivals for years.
“Where they failed to follow the instructions,” Naganohara murmurs. “Where they cut corners, and problems occurred. Every time, they’ve tried to fine me for it, but Ayaka has always fought back and proven that it was their own fault. She’s… amazing. Really, really amazing. My hero.”
“I see,” Kujou Sara murmurs.
That… is certainly evidence of corruption. To be derelict in their duties and attempt to shift the blame onto a third party, and moreover to attempt to profit off of it…
Her thoughts are interrupted by Naganohara continuing.
“And then… there’s my niwabi fireworks. They’re really easy to use, and pretty safe even for little kids if they’re being supervised, you know? They can definitely burn you if you touch them, but they’re designed to have relatively safe ashes, and most basic fire-safety is pretty well-known because I hold classes on it a lot. There were a few burn incidents over the first few years after I invented them, and that sucks, but it really was only a few and we Naganohara have some really good ointment for that, it’s a standard product I sell. It flies off the shelves, really… mostly for cooking accidents, though. Anyway, one day the fire brigade turned up at my door and told me my niwabi had been outlawed because there had been too many fires in Hanamizaka caused by improper use.”
Naganohara drums her fingers on the table, a troubled look on her face.
“I investigated, obviously. Like, if there were a lot of fires and somehow I hadn’t heard about them, that’d suck big time! I would have had a lot of apologies to make. But… nobody knew what the fire brigade was on about, which makes sense, you know? Everyone in Hanamizaka is really close and there’s no way fires would have been going unnoticed. On the other hand, I got a lot of people begging me to keep selling niwabi, and… I heard some stories about how the fire brigade had been using the new ban to fine people who were found with them.”
The blonde shrugs, a guilty look on her face.
“I decided to keep selling niwabi under the table since people wanted them so much and I couldn’t find any evidence of an actual problem,” Naganohara confesses. “So yeah, I’m kinda breaking the law. But I monitored things real closely, and there really haven’t been any fires! The fire brigade hasn’t been by about them again in all the years since either… but they have kept fining people that they find with them. Isn’t that weird? Why haven’t they come after me, since obviously I’m the source? I had figured that would be what would happen if I kept going but it wasn’t, and so I almost stopped selling them again. I would’ve, if everyone hadn’t been so insistent that they’re willing to risk the fines…”
“…I, too, have heard nothing about an epidemic of fires in Hanamizaka,” Kujou Sara murmurs. “Nor was I aware of a law banning the sale of your niwabi. Be at ease, I have no intention of taking you in for this. Quite the opposite.”
Kujou Sara is convinced. The fire brigade… is corrupt. It’s by no means praiseworthy that Naganohara is breaking the law and continuing to sell a banned product, but the very banning of the product sounds more like targeted harassment and a scheme to extort money from the people of Hanamizaka than it does a legitimate law.
She needs more evidence than just Naganohara’s word in order to build a case, but it sounds like she can gather a great deal of that from the people of Hanamizaka. The fire brigade will have difficulty defending their position if the entirety of the lower district has accused them of malfeasance, and surely at least some of them have kept records of the fines they were forced to pay.
Her attention is drawn by Naganohara rising to her feet and rifling through a box on a nearby shelf. A stack of papers is set in front of her, and they appear to be…
“Official Tenryou Commission fine notices,” Kujou Sara breathes, lifting the top paper to examine it more closely. “And they’re genuine… for possession of niwabi fireworks.”
“I cover the fines anyone caught with my niwabi face,” Naganohara explains. “They bring the notices to me and I wipe away the debt. It’s only fair, you know? I’ve held onto them as a reminder, but… I think you may have more use for them than I do.”
“Thank you,” Kujou Sara says. “These are… the most valuable evidence I could have asked for, although…”
She hesitates. To use these as evidence is to implicate Naganohara in having deliberately broken the law and continued selling niwabi. For all that Kujou Sara had promised Naganohara would face no consequences for her honesty… she doesn’t think she can protect the other woman from some kind of punishment if these are used.
“It means admitting I’m a criminal, right?” Naganohara asks, smiling sadly. “That’s fine. If it means the fire brigade is reformed, if it means it will have more oversight and return to being an altruistic organization… if it means the people of Hanamizaka don’t have to deal with their stupid fines anymore… I’ll face any punishment head-on. This whole thing is basically my fault anyway, right? It’s the least I can do. I won’t run away from my actions, ever.”
Kujou Sara rises to her feet and gives Naganohara the deepest bow she possibly can.
“Thank you,” she says. “I truly appreciate your assistance, and your kindness.”
Kujou Sara wants to cry. The warmth radiating from Naganohara right now, directed protectively at the people of Hanamizaka, is almost more than she can handle.
“No,” Naganohara disagrees gently. “It’s me who’s grateful to you, Madam Kujou, for taking the time to care for our people. You really are the fairest in the Tenryou Commission.”
The warm, gentle smile on Naganohara’s face — a smile intended for her, and her alone — steals the breath from Kujou Sara’s lungs.
She bows again and makes her way out the door on legs far shakier than they should be, but her head is held high.
She has an investigation to complete, and corruption to bring to an end.
“The fire brigade?” the old woman scoffs. “That bunch of rascals? Why do y’wanna know about them?”
Kujou Sara does her best to smile.
“I have cause to believe they’re abusing their position for profit, at the cost of the people here,” she explains. “The more testimony I can gather, the more likely I can properly hold them accountable.”
“Huh. Well don’t that beat all,” the old woman murmurs, cocking her head and peering at the general curiously. “Where were you these last two years, then?”
“Unforgivably unaware,” Kujou Sara admits, casting her gaze to the ground. “You have my most sincere apologies, and my word that I truly do wish to put an end to their actions.”
The old woman clicks her tongue.
“Oh, all right then,” she sighs. “Really, it goes back a lot longer than just this latest nonsense, so it’s certainly not the fault of a kid like you, and when you turn in all of your fancy evidence and nothing happens it’ll be that old fart’s fault, not yours. It ain’t that easy to dig out rotted wood, and bright-eyed youngsters like you are doomed to fail… The fire brigade can’t stand that sweet child Yoimiya, so they’ve been targeting her lately, but the problem goes back… oh, forty years or so ago, when the Lady Guuji put a stop to that silly Fire-Soothing Festival and started her publishing house. If you ask me, the Tenryou Commissioner got his stupid little mustache in a twist about not being able to embezzle committee money anymore and set them to finding new ways to fill his pockets. Ever since then they’ve been fining us for all sorts of things that they call ‘fire hazards.’ Pfah. We haven’t had a real fire in Hanamizaka as long as I’ve been alive, and we’re not about to start now.”
Kujou Sara does her best to keep a neutral expression on her face despite the harsh words directed at Master Takayuki. She doesn’t believe for a second that someone as loyal to the Almighty Shogun as he is could be behind this, but it’s not like the common people would know that. No, it’s clear that the head of the fire brigade has been up to some extremely shady business for a long time now.
Given the fire brigade’s chief answers directly to the Tenryou Commissioner, though…
The general is sure he’ll be furious when he finds out what his subordinates have been up to.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Kujou Sara says. “If I might ask a few more details…”
It’s the same story everywhere she goes. The older people are more than happy to regale her with tales of the various absurd reasons that they or those they’ve known have been fined over the years, while the younger are mostly aware of the way that the fire brigade has chosen to target Naganohara and her products more specifically.
The picture is a very, very ugly one, and her notepad has gotten very full.
Shinobu was more right than the tengu could have possibly imagined, and…
She does find herself wondering:
Are they the only ones?
That’s a question she’ll have to find an answer to later, because her last stop before taking the evidence to Master Takayuki is going to be the most trying yet, but also perhaps the most important if she wants to avoid collateral damage to an innocent:
She needs to meet with Kamisato Ayaka.
“Kujou Sara,” Kamisato says calmly as she enters the room and kneels across from the general, expression hidden behind her ever-present fan. “To what do I owe the occasion?”
Kujou Sara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
“I need your help to protect Naganohara Yoimiya,” she admits.
Her eyes fly open at the sound of a slam, and she finds that Kamisato has closed her fan and smashed it against the wooden table between them. A crack now runs across the table’s entire length, and the tengu suspects it will need to be replaced.
“Tell me everything,” Kamisato growls, eyes burning.
Not a trace of the noblewoman’s famous composure remains — to the tengu, it feels like she’s suddenly found herself to be sharing a room with an angry dragon.
And so she talks. Everything comes spilling out — Shinobu’s words, her conversation with Yoimiya, the things the people of Hanamizaka had told her…
By the end, Kamisato seems to have settled down again, and her fan is once more held in front of her face.
“So all I need to do is shield Yoimiya from being charged for selling niwabi, right?” the noblewoman asks. “A simple matter. I already filed Yashiro Commission authorization for their sale back when the ban was put in place — the sale of festival goods falls under our purview, and the fire brigade has no say in it… not that I was ever able to do anything about their fines for possession or use. You should be able to locate the permit if you check with the Yashiro Commission — simply present that alongside your findings and they’ll know exactly what they’d be getting into by trying to charge her.”
Kamisato sighs and waves her fan idly, lower face remaining concealed.
“I must say, I hadn’t expected anything to ever actually be done about the fire brigade,” Kamisato says. “Good work, Madam Kujou. Maybe you’ve got some real honor in you after all.”
“It’s what must be done,” Kujou Sara says softly. “The people can’t be extorted by those meant to protect them.”
“Indeed,” Kamisato agrees. “If there’s any other way I can lend my support… Do let me know.”
“I will,” the general promises. “But I’m certain Master Takayuki will take swift and decisive action.”
“Hm. So you say,” Kamisato says, shrugging. “At any rate, everything is in your hands now. If nothing changes…”
“Then I will be judged complicit in the corruption,” Kujou Sara accepts. “Yes, I understand. You have my word, I’ll do everything I can.”
Kamisato nods at her, and Kujou Sara rises and bows, understanding the dismissal for what it is.
It’s time for things to enter the final act.
“…This is quite the pile of evidence,” Master Takayuki murmurs, narrowed eyes gazing down at the papers in front of him as he sifts through them. “As ever, you’re frighteningly thorough. Hm.”
Kujou Sara bows in her seat, but remains silent. The clan head doesn’t appreciate being interrupted while he’s thinking.
“Obviously, action must be taken,” he says. “Her Excellency would be furious to learn that the laws in place to protect the people from unfair treatment have been so thoroughly violated. You’ve done enough, Sara. I’ll take it from here.”
“As you command, Master Takayuki,” the general accepts.
“…Oh, but there is one thing you can do,” Master Takayuki says. “Arrest the commoner, Naganohara. Regardless of whether the ban was just, those who have proven prone to criminal behavior cannot be allowed to simply walk free. For all of the fire brigade’s faults, it’s clear they were right to distrust her. Admitting to a crime without even acknowledging it was a violation of the rule of law… ridiculous.”
The tengu resists the urge to wince. She had rewritten her notes to remove all mention of Naganohara believing her actions to be criminal so as better to support the permit — she’s not entirely sure why Kamisato had chosen not to tell her friend about it, but if she had to guess…
‘I won’t run away from my actions, ever.’
Naganohara probably isn’t a big fan of even corruption that works in her own favor, and exempting a friend from the law is… dubious at best.
“Actually, sir,” Kujou Sara says, removing the permit she had acquired from the Yashiro Commission from her sleeve. “Given her closeness with the Yashiro Commission, I had wondered about that. It seems that she was given direct authorization by Kamisato Ayaka to continue their sale as a festival good. Attempting to pursue legal action against her would bring us into conflict with the Yashiro Commission, and the permit was signed by Kamisato Ayaka herself.”
“…I see,” Master Takayuki murmurs, frustration flashing across his face. “How are we to have a functional government when one branch of the Tri-Commission can simply flagrantly disregard the law and prevent its enforcement…? But very well. So be it — it doesn’t benefit us to get into a battle of jurisdiction with the Yashiro Commission’s favored daughter over an action that seems to have led to no real harm.”
“As you say, sir,” Kujou Sara agrees.
“…This, Sara,” Master Takayuki says, voice heavy, “is why the Kujou Clan is so necessary. We alone possess the dedication to Her Excellency necessary to enforce her will, to refuse to allow petty emotion to cloud our judgment. The Naganohara girl is close with the Shirasagi Himegimi, is she not? To allow affection for a friend to get in the way of justice… such is not the Kujou way. Our path is the path of Eternity, and we must walk it behind Her Excellency with unwavering devotion…”
Listening to the clan head speak is always inspiring. Nobody, not even Kujou Sara herself, can match his devotion to the Almighty Shogun and her ways. His stoic manner and endless loyalty are the model that the tengu has been seeking to follow since she was adopted by the Kujou Clan in her childhood.
“…You’re dismissed, Sara,” Master Takayuki says at last. “I may have some work for you in the coming days. Be ready.”
“Of course, Master Takayuki,” the general promises, rising and bowing deeply. “I am ever so.”
“…And so the matter is handled,” Kujou Sara finishes firmly, unable to help the brief smile that flashes across her face. “The people no longer need to fear.”
Shinobu hums thoughtfully and takes a sip from her cup.
“Perhaps,” she agrees. “Time will tell.”
The general doesn’t let the doubt in the green-haired woman’s voice get to her. After how long the fire brigade had been violating their duty, it’s only natural for someone unfamiliar with how seriously Master Takayuki takes his duty to question if things will actually change.
“I owe you my thanks,” Kujou Sara says, bowing her head. “Without your tip, I never would have known to investigate this.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Shinobu asks, and Kujou Sara’s head snaps up to search her face.
“Friends?” the tengu asks weakly. “…Are we?”
“We are,” Shinobu agrees, smiling softly at her. “And we should make this a regular thing.”
“…I would like that,” Kujou Sara whispers, returning the smile and doing her best to avoid letting how fast her heart is beating show on her face. It’s far, far more than she ever would have dared to hope for. “I would like that a lot.”
Years later, when Kamisato Ayaka will file an airtight case proving ongoing corruption from the fire brigade before the Almighty Shogun herself, the tengu will learn that the fines had been stopped only temporarily… that her father had simply waited for her attention to move to other things from the large pile of work he’d continued to heap on her before resuming his illicit fundraising.
And so it is that Kujou Sara will look back on her foolish faith and weep, held gently in the arms of her dearest and only friend in the world.