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It has been far too long since Yae has felt a spark.
It's easy to tease the mortals that cross her path. The publishing house's employees. That cute war general. Even the little traveler. They all bend so easily within her palm, like a sheet of cardboard, entertaining her while she graces them with her presence.
It lacks something though. There's no pushback, and even when there is, even when a tiny spark lights in the cavern of her soul, miniscule and barely noticeable, the embers die out in less than a second.
It's no use lingering on it. She's spent hundreds of years doing just that, and things get old after a while, even for her. So she directs her attention to the present.
"Inagi, sweet child."
"Yes, Lady Guuji?"
"You had your kosode fabric mended, yes?"
"Yes Lady Guuji."
Yae trails a hand down the shrine maiden's shoulder, then down to her arm, watching as the woman's face grows almost as red as the hakama she wears.
No sparks.
"Good girl. It looks much better now, without the perforations."
Inagi sputters. "T-thank you, Lady Guuji."
She blinks. Lady Guuji. It's always Lady Guuji.
In the back of her mind, Yae hears a soft voice. Miko, it calls, and it's easy to discern the scene, remember the one who would call upon her with such familiarity. Fox envoys have an impeccable memory, after all.
If Yae were to concentrate even the slightest amount, she would be pulled into a landscape, perfect and warm. A clean slate of glass before anyone knew the events that would shatter it.
Miko, she would hear again. A sweet call, a song of one word on the tongue. She would turn, indigo flooding her vision. A face—Ei. Soft, yet hardened by battle; not like her sister. Yae would smile at the scene, remembering how delight had flooded her senses as she took the other woman in, a not-so-dissimilar look gracing Ei’s face as well.
“Happy to see me, are you?” Yae had asked.
“As happy as you are.”
Yae had brought her fingers up to grip her own chin, pretending to think. “So, very happy, then?”
Ei had made an exasperated sound at that, yet the look on her face and the words that followed contradicted it. “Yes, I’m happy to see you.”
Perfect moments. Too perfect. Too good to last.
Another occasion, when Ei had brought a plate of food for the two of them while they spent time together. When Yae had teased the other woman for her choice of food—fried tofu, made just the way Yae likes it.
“Are you trying to court me?” Yae had said, capturing another piece of tofu between her chopsticks and bringing it to her mouth. Savoring the crisp exterior and silky interior.
“What, I’m not allowed to graciously share a meal with a friend without trying to court them?”
“Friend?”
“What other title would you prefer then? Acquaintances? Partners? Lovers? Girlfriends?”
That had pulled a laugh out of Yae, and she'd brought up a hand to cover her mouth. “Girlfriends?” she'd repeated. “Such a juvenile title, reserved more for schoolgirls, no?”
Ei had then placed her chopsticks down. “Then, Miko, should we just stick to friends?”
“Mmmm, but friends don’t kiss each other, nor do they gaze at one another in the way we do. And they especially do not do what we do underneath the sheets.”
That had caused a rare blush to settle on Ei’s cheeks. Light, barely there, fleeting. But she noticed.
“No,” Yae had said then. “Lovers will do for now.”
She remembers thinking, at that time—it’s not enough to sum up their entire relationship, their intimate, deep-seated connection to just one word, but it will suffice.
If Yae concentrated, she would see it. She would feel it again, the sweet slivers in time. And the sparks would flood her again, just like it had all those years ago.
But she doesn’t. She doesn’t concentrate, she doesn’t look, and she doesn’t feel. Yae remembers what happened in all those occasions she did give in, and is glad none of the mortals around her were around to see her then.
“Inagi,” she calls again. “I’m going down to the publishing house. You’ll watch the shrine in the meantime, won’t you?”
The girl bows. “O-of course, Lady Guuji!”
-:-:-
The novel in Yae’s hands is a personal tale, a little too personal to fully publish, but she can still delight in it by herself.
She touches the page, on an illustration of the story’s god character, and chuckles. This one’s not quite as cute as her own archon, but it’s pretty close.
The story is humorous, and she can’t help but laugh as she reads her own work. She’s always had a way with words.
When she manages to drag Ei out of the prison she has so willingly trapped herself in despite yearning to be free, Yae will show her this novel. The thought of seeing her reaction—likely amused and a little exasperated too—makes Yae’s ears twitch. Her earrings, crackling vision attached to one, jingle with the movement. Another reminder.
Life is humorous, entertaining. If only the one she wished to share it with were with her. It’s a shame the woman in question is still clinging to her stubbornness like a lifeline.
Soon. She just has to be patient.
Good thing that’s one of her many strengths.
-:-:-
The tengu girl is at the Grand Narukami Shrine again.
“Her excellency is fierce in battle, everyone speaks of it. Guuji Yae, you must have witnessed her full power before. Tell me, what was she like?”
It’s incredibly easy to discern the girl’s true emotions for her archon. It’s cute. So Yae indulges her.
“Quite marvelous, I must say. I once witnessed her behead an entire battalion with one slash.” Sparks threaten to appear. “The grass was stained with blood, redder than anything I had seen before.”
For her high rank in the shogun’s military, Kujou Sara isn’t all as bright as Yae expected. Though, for mortals, there’s only so much time they have to learn before they disappear. It’s a shame, Yae had always thought, that being part of such a powerful clan has not granted her the same wit as others.
But as she continues the tale, Yae has to give her credit—she does not flinch at the gruesome nature of the memories, but rather leans in with growing interest.
Maybe, she and Sara are more similar than she thought before.
And it’s nice to recount the tales too. To look back at when there were two archons of Inazuma, not one.
It’s a shame, really, that Yae has not yet had the chance to see Ei lead a nation by herself. The current archon is no more than a puppet, a vessel, and it’s not the same.
It’s strange when your lover is also your archon.
They’re still lovers. Even after countless years without communication, they’re still lovers.
Being apart has gotten boring. They will soon meet again. Yae has a plan.
-:-:-
“Miko,” Ei says when they see each other again, in her plane of euthymia. And the sparks are back.
It’s humorous to see Ei surprised, as if she hadn’t expected her own lover to step up and do something about her temper tantrum—because that’s what it is—and as if she didn’t expect Yae to have a plan of her own. Fox envoys do not forget, but has Ei?
When the dark landscape lightens, Yae at least knows this: Ei has been lonely, and has missed her too.
Ei is smart, passionate, and frustratingly dense all the same. Eternity is what she fights for, what she craves, yet in trying to reach it, she’s neglected herself and her people, Yae included.
Ei thinks she knows everything, and for anyone else, it would be near impossible to get through to her.
But Yae does.
She knows this as well: Ei too has been missing a spark too. Despite being the archon of electro itself, the spark she has wanted to feel the most for these centuries alone was out of reach.
But not any longer.