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Ei sat with her back to the window. She could feel the moon’s cool stare against her neck as she stared into the palm of her hand, tracing the carefully sculpted lines with her gaze. Dark strands of hair fell into her lap and she brushed them away with a sigh, slumping forward and pressing her palms to her face.
Artificial. Fake. Words she had heard many times before, both from herself and whispered daringly behind her back. Her skin? Fake. Her hair? Fake. Eyes? Fake, though a lovely color. Almost an exact match to the ones she left behind.
A soft exhale sounded behind her and Ei turned to see Yae laid sleeping on the bed, still tucked under the blankets. Her pink hair felt smooth beneath her fingertips, so unlike the coarse, flawless hair that was Ei’s own. This body, these sensations—they were crafted by another pair of hands. She was never born, she was made.
Correction: The Raiden Shogun was made. Ei herself burst into existence.
Ei stood from the bed and walked towards the balcony, sliding the glass doors open and stepping into the crisp night air. The pierce of the wind’s kiss against her porcelain skin was grounding, in some strange way. It made her feel human, reminded her that she could be weak.
She leaned on the edge of the railing and overlooked Narukami Island. Ei had the best view of the city from her lofty abode at the peak of the island. A part of her wished she could leave this palace, wander other parts of Inazuma and find ground that had not yet seen enough feet to turn flat. She fantasized about it often, running away. Yae would come with her, of course. The two could live away from magic, away from power, away from every harsh glance that came their way or trembling soldier passing them in the halls.
And as for Kunikuzushi…well, that dream was long gone. Her son had left long ago. Truthfully, it was she who left him first. The isolation was deserved.
She could still recall the first moment she laid her eyes on him. His figure was unmoving, not a single scratch dared cross him as he gleamed atop a metal table. How awful that he would spend so much of his life on tables like that, cold and unforgiving. They would not bend to fit against his skin, a hard porcelain that was the same as his mother’s.
“Ei?” Yae crept up behind her, shivering in the cold. “What are you doing out here, darling, it’s late?”
Ei turned, keeping one hand hooked around the railing. “I could ask you the same thing. You look cold.”
Yae looked down at the goose flesh on her arms. Ei longed to reach out and run her fingers along it, feeling a bumpy flesh that would never be her own. “Nice of you to notice. Come on, let’s go back inside!”
Yae held out her hand and Ei grabbed it hesitantly. Once the glass doors had been closed and the two returned to the bed, Ei whispered something to herself. “I’ve always loved how warm your hand is. I like to pretend you can feel my pulse beating against yours.”
Yae said nothing but Ei knew she had heard. Instead, her beloved kitsune leaned over to plant a kiss against her cheek. Then she planted another, and two more after that. Soon, Yae was pressing kisses against every part of Ei’s face she deemed worthy, which was all of it.
She saved the lips for last, of course, pausing to give Ei a small smile before pressing their lips together, dragging one over the other. Ei chased the warmth when Yae pulled away, threading a hand through her hair and tugging her back in for one last quick peck.
For a moment, neither spoke, and it seemed as though they weren’t planning on doing so for the rest of the night. They simply lay beside each other, bathed in a comfortable silence. Then, Ei asked, “Will you marry me?”
Yae chuckled lightly, squeezing Ei’s hand tightly in her own. “Haven’t we been married for years?”
“We’ve been together for years. I know I’ve asked before, I suppose I just wanted to hear you say ‘yes’ one more time.”
Yae hummed, as though considering it. “I will marry you as many times as your heart so desires. I will say ‘yes,’ or ‘I do,’ or ‘please—’ whatever it is you want me to say. Agreeing to spend a lifetime with you has become as simple as breathing. I don’t have to think about it, I simply do.”
Ei inhaled shakily, turning to find that Yae was already looking at her. Her gaze was even, steady, and Ei believed her. “Are all writers such hopeless romantics, or is that trait unique to you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say hopeless. I’m sleeping beside you now, aren’t I?”
“We aren’t sleeping, yet.”
“Then why don’t we? My eyes are falling shut and I started dreaming hours ago.”
“Alright, alright. Goodnight, Miko.”
“Goodnight, my darling.”