Work Text:
The things Yae Miko writes about aren't always necessarily good, but when she's knee-deep in the editorial business, checking over what must be the worst novel she's ever read, she does wish she could simply pick up her pen and start the story anew without any sort of complaints.
By her side in the small ramen stand sits the ever-glorious Raiden Ei, hair and eyes twinkling in the moonlight, shining a soft purple-blue. She's gorgeous like this, all sharp angles and even sharper appetite as she devours whatever is placed in front of her. Only Miko's kitsune udon is out of reach for her.
The ronin pirates in the story she's reading are reaching a crescendo in their illegal activities, soon to be brought down, and she can't help but think: in another life, would I have died by her hand if she so pleased? Would I have been nothing but fodder for the fire that she wants to set the world into?
Raiden Ei does not love easily, and even when she does, she doesn't show it in the way normal humans do. She is hardly even human anymore, having lived five hundred years inside a sword that ate alive all her emotions. Whenever she reacted to it, it was simply to put order on the land of Eternity. She loves Inazuma, yes, but her love is a twisted thing: even Miko can hardly live by it sometimes.
"You're contemplative," Ei expresses as she grabs another dango stick off the counter, showing Miko and the stand owner that she is nowhere near full, "pardon my bluntness, but I doubt the novel could be that interesting. You seem rather... lost in thought."
"Ei, my darling friend," Miko smiles, even though it feels like spitting venom to say those words. Friend. Archons, maybe that is the problem with her — she worships Ei, how could she not? But they are still... just that. A priest and her God. A devout follower and her most unreachable desire. Miko's wishes are but something the shooting stars laugh about, and even the most dangerous yokai must be ashamed of what their offspring have come to. "I assure you, with a little refinement, this might just be your taste."
"What is it about?" Ei asks, apparently genuinely curious. Miko loves the moments where her undivided —or mostly undivided, granted the food is still on the table— attention is posed on her.
"A ronin who escaped the terrible, terrible Shogun's regime," she starts, with a little laugh that lets Ei know she is rather amused by the main character and her premise, "she becomes stranded on an island and meets a pirate whose exploits have reached far and wide. Together, the two ladies—" and she pauses here momentarily to see Ei's reaction, to see how she considers the idea of a couple whose love is not constrained by gender, "—overcome insurmountable challenges, each one tougher than the last, becoming a famed duo whose legends spread all over the land, reaching even the faraway Snezhnaya."
"I see," Ei's eyes narrow, for just a moment, before they are back to the sparkling of her food-driven ambition to empty the counter, "I must concede, then. The story does attract me."
Miko lets out a sigh of relief that she wasn't even aware had been kept in her lungs. To know Ei doesn't mind the pairing of two women is truly not as surprising as she might have initially thought, but it is still a welcome notion. She wishes Ei could look past the simple words and into her heart, but the God is rather talentless in that area.
It's not that Miko has skimmed on giving her hints — Archons, she's given her hints for days, and all Ei could see was a friend, a companion, the small fox that was playful and could never be more than that. Miko has always seen her in the brightest light, the rightest way, not as a God but as the human underneath the thunder. Even if she's no longer human, perhaps not even alive in the traditional sense anymore, not after she became her sister's sword, to Miko she is the one true way to love. She has shown love to everyone in Inazuma, even in the wrong way of trying to keep them contained within an eternal regime, and she understands now that loving something is letting it change... but she doesn't see Miko the same way, it seems, for she doesn't allow the slightest change in the status quo of their relationship. Her glances don't linger, and even though she laughs along, there's a distance that shouldn't be there. The distance of unsaid words.
She can only wonder what Ei is hiding from her, but she suspects that it's some sort of rejection, that Ei must already have figured her out entirely and is only waiting for the right moment to drop the ball on her. It is perhaps a bit cruel, but Miko understands she should remain by Ei's side nevertheless, giving her any time or space she might need, keeping her safe and helping her with state affairs. Miko is still the Guuji even if things go to hell between them, unless Ei feels like disrupting their forever with a change in the Shrine, which she highly doubts. They might not be lovers, but they are confidantes, best friends, and err just to the left of being soulmates. Ei wouldn't relieve her of her post over something like this.
Still, she worries about rejection — how could she not? Ei has been her dearest friend for years. Any sort of distance between them is painful, and after being deprived of her for five hundred years, she can't bear to see her go again over something as small as unrequited feelings.
A part of her aches to confess, of course, and she wishes to indulge her own selfish desires, but there is simply too much to lose, if Ei—
"Miko," she calls, voice soft, her hand placed on Miko's chin to tilt it towards herself, "are you quite sure you're alright?"
"I am," she croaks out, voice gone shamefully strangled as her body goes lax, pliant in Ei's hold. The Archon hums and lets go of her, but Miko could swear the skin where she was touched aches like a trail of thunder had been left behind on it. "Ei, I..."
"There is no need for you to tell me lies, my dear friend," her smile is small and her teeth shine golden in the light, and Miko's heart nearly stops at the word dear. If only it hadn't been followed by those awful, awful words... Friends, of course, they were friends. Of course, she couldn't tell Ei she wanted any more than that.
She wondered how Makoto would have reacted seeing her act so small, just like at the time she was tricked and brought to tears by a witch, except this once it was as though a spell of stubborn love had been cast onto her. She couldn't let Ei go, would never be able to see her be with someone else, but the idea that she would actually have to confess made her panic. Why couldn't things be simpler? Why couldn't Ei be the one to ask her out?
The answer is simple, of course; because she doesn't feel the same, and even if she ever did, Ei isn't the type to be in tune with her own feelings. She wouldn't realize, she wouldn't know, that what she felt for Miko went deeper than just their friendship — of course, the fact that she would feel at all for her was an insanely selfish idea Miko kept turning back to and rejecting.
"You know," Ei starts, and Miko stops all her thoughts and pays attention to her, "I have been propositioned by a few young men. They wish me to leave heirs to the throne, unaware that I am but a puppet."
Miko's heart sinks to the ground. She knows Ei doesn't need heirs, for she is an Archon, but the mere thought of a mortal being so bold so as to proposition her was insane. Why could they gather the courage to do so, and not her?
"Should I accept?"
No. No, if Miko does nothing, then Ei will be stolen right before her eyes, and—
"Ei," she calls, throat so tight it feels as though it's full of sandpaper when she tries to swallow, "I... Have something I need to tell you."
Her eyes are sparkling, her golden teeth shining in a small smile, and Miko thinks she's never seen someone as beautiful. If only because of this, she finally steels her resolve — she cannot let Ei leave with another man or woman. She would never forgive herself if she allowed her God to be taken right in front of her.
Venom will surely flow out from Ei's mouth when she speaks; Miko will swallow her tears and pretend they will be fine; but for tonight, and tonight only, she leans with her sake-foggy breath against Ei, her face pressed to the woman's shoulder, and speaks low, only for her love to hear:
"Don't go with them, Ei. Stay with me... We have eternity, until you want to sit it out. So please, stay. I need you." Her pitiful voice comes hidden amidst the planes of Ei's skin. She hopes maybe the Shogun wouldn't have heard her, but of course, nothing escapes those perfect ears.
"Miko..." She sighs, and Miko thinks this is it, we're going our separate ways, right before Ei places a hand on her head and starts brushing through her hair, "say what you mean, and say it properly."
Again, Miko feels sandpaper as she swallows, something bitter stuck in her throat. She doesn't think the alcohol stayed that long — no; she knows it's the panic, the uncertainty, the fact that she knows not what Ei thinks of her.
"...I'm practicing for my novel," she lies, because that's the easiest way out, that's the way Miko can go back, laugh, pretend her heart doesn't ache —won't ache when she sees Ei with someone else— and her stomach doesn't curl. "You're a perfect subject, you oblivious sweetheart—"
"Yae Miko," Ei's voice is firm, calling her by her full name in a way that makes Miko's hairs stand on edge, even those on her ears and tails, "do it properly. Don't give me excuses."
Miko sighs, taking a deep breath that shows that she still isn't ready for what she needs. Still, she has to — it's either confessing or letting Ei get away from her. She could handle it, but Ei's voice, her eyes, they force her to say the truth.
"I love you," she finally breaks. "I love you, Ei. You are the only one I've ever loved."
There's a moment of stillness, deep quiet, in which Miko regrets ever opening her mouth and letting those cursed words ever come out. Then,
"Oh, Miko," Ei sighs, her voice so soft as she runs a soothing hand through Miko's hair, and maybe the rejection won't hurt so bad if— "I am quite in love with you too, my dearest."
"What?" Miko splutters, undignified, then pulls back to look right in Ei's eyes — she doesn't manage, however, for the Archon pulls her in for a kiss before she even has the chance to garner a good look at her expression.
Their lips slot together perfectly after an inexpert moment of panic from Miko, and Ei naturally takes the lead despite her —assumed— lack of experience. She doesn't know why or how she knows so much about kissing, but her tongue caresses Miko's lips and she's in heaven, drunk on it, drunk on the taste of sake in Ei's mouth. She needs her more than she's ever needed anyone, and it shows in her desperate attempt at kissing back, at holding onto Ei and not letting go.
When they part, lips glossy, Ei gives her a half-lidded gaze that tells Miko of all the things to come.
"Let's take this to my quarters."
She's never been more taken by anyone, so deeply wanted. She cannot possibly say no.
All she knows is, their love will be the one poets write songs for sailors to sing about.