Chapter Text
A bow will bend to its master’s will or it breaks. Without the ability to withstand high stress, forceful torsion, and intense force a bow is useless. Any fracture or crack compromises its purpose. A bow is a weapon that finds its value in yielding. The bow is a weapon that must be both stalwart and plaint. The power comes from the balance between the resistance to change and the surrender to a strong hand. A balance between defiance and submission. A balance that creates deadly force. The type of balance that will lead to ruin if the scales are tipped.
Kujou Sara knows this.
A bow that cannot withstand the pressure enacted by its wielder is without purpose. A bow that does not resist distortion is useless. So Sara listens to her God, she bends when necessary, snaps into action when required, and withstands the force of the apostates that push against their righteous intent. Sara resists alteration, follows her God’s eternity, devotes herself to her God’s ambition. She becomes a useful weapon both plaint and strong. A streak of deadly force. A lighting strike upon those that oppose eternity, against those that oppose her God. The protection of her God and her eternity those are her duty. A duty that Sara clasps in shaking hands and scarred fingers. A duty cherished in clenched fists and clenched teeth. A duty, a purpose, adhered to until it is finished or she gone. It is what she knows.
So like a bow in the skilled hands of a master, Sara enacts the will of her God. Enacts the will of eternity. This will be no different. Sara will carve herself into the image of the perfect tool. Chipping away her softness and her desire, all to better serve her God. She will take her hesitancy, her fear, and her morals and lock them away to ensure that the will of Baal is the will of the land and the people.
This is what Sara tells herself. As her heart drops. As her mind races. As every tendon and ligament pulls taunt as a bow string. Sara stares upon her God. Baal stares back, cavalier and doubtless in her new path to eternity. Apathetic as she speaks of well-laid plans and impending resistance. Apathetic as she speaks of control and eternity. Sara, body shaking and sinew unyielding, stares upon her God. Then horrifically Sara unclenches her jaw, “Raiden Shogun are you sure this is the only path to eternity,” Sara hears her words, and childishly she wishes to clamp both hands over her mouth, instead she continues, “Our people surely cannot withstand this, Visions are…”
“Enough!” it is lighting in a dark sky, it sparks, fast and loud and dangerous, threatening to ignite. It is thunder, crackling across the room, raising the hair on Sara’s arms, a clash that echoes against tile and wood and rebounds. It steals the breath from her lungs. She can feel her wings straining, feathers twitching and bristling, insisting Sara take to the air for a hasty retreat.
“You have served me well Kujou Sara and for that I will excuse your doubt in me.” electricity crackles in the air, and Sara feels her own power rise to meet it. Sara feels a war rise in her chest, she has disappointed her God and she is failing to protect her people.
Baal sits blank, but not impassive. “How dare you question my understanding of eternity, my path to eternity. Do not let imagined duty to the people of this country blind you to your true duty. Tell me your duty, Sara,” voice low, like thunder in the aftermath. Lighting strikes twice, sparks ignite, and Sara burns.
She knows she will not make it out. Kujou Sara burns, and as she chokes on smoke she responds with the thing she has known her entire life, “My duty is to manifest eternity per the Almighty Shogun’s will,” the words taste like ash in her mouth, the smoke tastes like salvation. She is dismissed. Sara knows what she must do.
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Her brothers do not see it that way. Kamaji is appalled. He rants, and he paces. Masahito is quiet. Knees folded under him, hands calmly placed on knees, he watches Sara. His brow is furrowed, lips pushed tightly together, Sara doesn’t know what it means.
“You agree with this new strategy?” his voice is flat and deep, it slinks reluctantly, past the anger of Kamaji, and settles around Sara’s shoulders. It feels like an accusation, it sounds like trust. Kamaji pauses and turns to look at Sara, eyes burning, teeth clenched, brows pulled low, and arms crossed. Sara tries to square her shoulders, tries to sit up straighter; her wings feel like mountains upon her back.
“I believe in the Almighty Shogun’s will”, Masahito’s eyes fall closed, his face relaxes, his shoulders rise with his inhale. Kamaji throws his arms, and with a scoff, he paces away from her.
“Sara,” Masahito’s voice, his eyes, his body, are soft, bent toward her. He looks relaxed and calm, but his eyes betray him. He is struggling to be gentle with her. She doesn’t know why, she is strong she does not need his protection. He is a warrior, she rarely sees him like this. “That’s not what I asked.”
In this moment all Sara wants is to mirror this softness. She wants to let her shoulders droop, wants to let her wings free. Most of all she wants to hug her older brother. She wants to take this softness he is offering and nestle into it, lean against his shoulders, and let him protect her. She wants him to tell her that it will be alright. Reassure her that it is acceptable to doubt her God, she knows he would if she asked him. So she doesn’t ask, doesn’t soften. Instead, she packs that longing ache beneath her ribs, to be protected in the same cage as her heart.
Then Sara does what she always has, what she always will.
“It is the path to eternity,” she resists change, the words taste like defeat, “ is that not what we of the Shogun’s military aspire to,” she yields to her master, it feels like failure.
Masahito sighs, nods, and stands “I have to think about this,” she watches him yield with her and she knows. It feels like a betrayal.
Kamaji knows too. Probably sees it in the slope of Masahito’s shoulders, in the angle of his chin, “Think about it!” he is dynamic, all wide gestures and abrupt pivots, “there is nothing to think about! This is absurd, what she is purposing is sickening. I will not support this. Do you even understand what this would mean for…”
“I understand,” Sara does not look at either of her brothers. She cannot, she knows them and they know her, and this feels like an admission, or maybe a confession. A concession in a game she can’t quite grasp. Her eyes will not leave the table. The chipped cracks don’t make her feel better, “I think I understand better than either of you,” a breath, “I, after all, have a vision. I know its power, I know its essentiality better than anyone,” eyes forward, words tumble, “I also know that if the first vision that the Shogun asks for is mine, then I will give it willingly.” it tastes like ash, and smoke. It feels like electricity, “for the pursuit of eternity.” It sounds like salvation.
Silence reigns, it creeps across the dining room permeating the walls and sinking into the floorboards. Sara risks looking, and cannot stop herself from watching the ruin of her own actions, she used to be more disciplined than this. Her brothers look defeated.
Sara is familiar with the feeling, she hates that she has brought this upon them. Her brothers look sad, their eyes on her, their faces still. Looking up at them, still kneeling as they stand before her, Sara wonders what it would be like to worship a God unlike her own. One that is soft, and gentle, that will yield with her, that would feel sadness at her sacrifices. A God that would refuse her sacrifice and cherish her devotion. She wonders of the God of Watasumi, the God of Liyue. Her thoughts catch upon the God of Mondstat and she yearns. Thinks about forbidden knowledge and protection. Thinks on contracts, fair and binding. Finally, she thinks on freedom and self-governance. The longing ache returns, begs from its cage to be set free.
She hates herself for the thoughts, she must be devoted to Baal.
Her God is doing what she must for eternity and Sara believes in that. Sara believes in the Shogun and Sara believes in her eternity. Sara cannot comprehend eternity the way that a God can and so Sara knows she is in the wrong. That her brothers are wrong to oppose this. Then Masahito speaks, “Okay,” it is all he says. Kamaji will not face her, she cannot see his eyes. The discussion is over. They each go their separate ways for the evening, but Sara feels a fracture, a shift. Sara thinks something has been shattered, irrevocably altered. The floor drops out and Sara is not so sure that she is in the right. It makes her uneasy for the coming future.
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The decree travels fast. There are whispers and there are shouts, the people are restless. The people are angry. Sara’s people are confused and scared and angry. There is nothing she can do. Patrols are increased, but even her soldiers are hesitant. In the streets, people eye them, as though they are an invading army. A hostile force that is going to attack at any moment. Sara does not blame them. Her instincts insist she should feel the same.
She must remind herself the people of Inazuma are short-sighted. They do not see the necessity of such drastic action. They do not see the threat that visions pose to eternity. Further, their discontent shows their ignorance. As long as they relinquish their visions, no one will be hurt, no one will be hunted. Sara hopes the people comply, she does not want to turn against them. They do not understand the mercy their God shows in not using force.
Sara directs a new patrol group into the southern section of Inazuma city, she hears whispers on the winds around her. Some mutter “traitor,” hostility, and anger, making spit fly on harsh consonants. Others mutter “ambition” and “eternity” softly, voices trembling with fear of both. Sara does not waiver. She sends away the patrol. She begins to plan for other cities and other islands, she needs to cover each village and she needs to prepare for resistance. She needs to prepare for those who are going to try to flee, those that are going to help them. Restrictions on travel to Ritou need to be increased. The merchants allowed to set sail need to be carefully chosen and then carefully watched.
Sara knows that Watasumi is going to be an issue. An issue she does not want to address, an issue she knows that she must handle delicately. Sara also knows she is not delicate. She is a weapon of piercing force. She must learn to become what she is not, or she must risk war. A war in which lives will be lost, her own soldiers and those of Watasumi. No one likes to give up power. That is what visions are. Visions grant people the power of Gods and no one, except the most loyal, is willing give that up without a fight.
A war is brewing and Sara feels as though she is on the wrong side.
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Kamisato Ayato approaches Sara. He is all that Sara is not, diplomatic and sly. He hides ambition behind innocuous favors and layers of deception. Sara knows this conversation will be a carefully crafted game, each move must be made with care. Otherwise, Sara risks being pinned, blundering into his meticulously laid trap. Kamisato Ayato is a skilled leader and an even more skilled strategist. Kamisato approaching Sara means he has either sensed a weakness and is ready to strike or he is carefully laying the groundwork to meddle. Neither outcome is one Sara wants to deal with.
“Commander Kujou”, Kamisato greets, tipping his drink in Sara’s direction, the ice clicks and shifts briefly drawing Sara’s eye.
“Commissioner Kamisato,” Sara replies, inclining her head. Even the brief moment feels like a vulnerability she does not want to offer, like taking her eyes off the snake in the grass.
“The Raiden Shogun’s newest decree has made the people nervous,” his voice is careful, stilted. Sara is surprised both by his hesitancy and his bluntness.
“If the people comply they will have nothing to worry about, the Raiden Shogun is only doing what is best for eternity. Is it not our duty to support that?” It is what Sara is supposed to say. Her duty is to support Baal, to bring to fruition her will, for the good of eternity, for the good of the people, for the good of Inazuma; Sara must obey. Kamisato has tensed. He has lost his earlier lightness, shoulders tight and rounded. His face has shadowed, eyebrows furrowed and lips a tight line. Sara has said the wrong thing. This is not the answer that Kamisato Ayato wanted, or maybe it is not the answer he expected. Sara wonders looking at the man in front of her if he would hand over his vision if asked. He is a man of ambition, a being of aspiration and initiative, it feels cruel to ask for his vision; crueler still to ask him to hand over the ambitions of his sister and faithful attendants.
“You support the decree? You will back the efforts of the Raiden in exterminating ambition from Inazuma, from our people?” the hesitancy is still present, the bluntness cutting. This is the most emotion that Sara has ever seen from the Yashiro Commissioner. Sara doesn’t know if she should feel fear or satisfaction. Kamisato is placing immeasurable trust in Sara, his questioning is bordering on treason and Sara knows if she took this to the Raiden the Yashiro Commission could fall; maybe it won’t matter because Kamisato is not planning to allow Sara to make it back to her God. She knows that in a fight in quarters this close, isolated from help, it would be difficult to escape and even harder to win.
“It is our duty to support the Raiden, Commissioner Kamisato. Ambition is a threat to the eternity of Inazuma and therefore sacrifices must be made,” it is a reminder and an admonishment.
“You Kujou Sara are a creature of ambition, the same as the rest of us. You would willingly yield your soul for the pursuit of a fickle and uncertain eternity?” The hesitancy remains, but the bluntness is gone. This is familiar a game of plausible deniability and personal desire, each side with a goal. Neither side is willing to give up the advantage. Kamisato, he is searching out Sara as an ally, to stand up against Baal and her will. A jolt rushes through her veins, her stomach drops out. It becomes that much harder to breathe. The water is rising and Sara must choose to sink or swim. Sara is drowning and Kamisato Ayato is offering a lifeboat, a solution to the ash that has been filling her mouth since she learned of the Raiden’s plans. “You have to realize that ambition cannot be crushed by taking visions. This is not a way to strengthen Inazuma, it is not a way to crush the ambitions of the people. Sara, the people will rebel, this will sow discontent, and this will weaken Inazuma, our country, and our people.” this is raw honesty, no games, no mischievous smirk. Kamisato Ayato is afraid and he is coming to Sara as an ally.
He has not realized Sara cannot help him. Sara cannot help herself. She will not stand against her ideals, her God. She will not stand against eternity. She cannot disobey Baal. Sara is a weapon wielded by the unloving hands of a greater being, she will yield to Baal's discretion. She will pierce the hearts of Baal's enemies and dissenters.
“I cannot stand against the will of our God. Her will is my will. Do not ask me to betray that. Do not ever again question my loyalty or Baal’s will. What you are trying to accomplish is impossible,” she rewards his honesty with her own. “Do what you must,” it feels like treachery, it might be absolution, “but do not involve me. Do not ask me for my loyalty. It will not be yours and I cannot help you.”
She cannot wait for his condemnation. She turns and leaves the narrow alleyway, she moves past the silent buildings, crushing pink blossoms beneath her feet as she strides back to the Kujou Estate. A part of Sara wants Ayato to succeed; to halt the hunt for visions before the Raiden’s mercy runs out. She wants everything to return to normal, she does not want to turn against her people. She does not want to subject the people of Watatasumi to the war and horrors that are sure to come. The last thing she wants is to add to their oppression, to their mourning. Sara knows he cannot stop this. The path to eternity has been set in motion, and Sara has chosen her side. The future is not static, but if Sara obeys, fulfills her purpose as the armament of the God of eternity maybe the future and eternity will finally become steadfast and immovable, maybe then Sara will finally be able to rest.