Chapter Text
To Yae Miko, it is obvious for people with functional eyes that Kujou Sara has a lot in her mind—standing in front of the sacred sakura tree with eyes down on the ground. Her posture stiff as a rock.
Most people would be looking up, watching the pink petals sway and fall. A striking view, just like Yae herself.
Which is why Yae does not appreciate the gloominess radiating off of the tengu general. It's corrupting the serenity of this place.
This is the third time Sara has visited the shrine since the Sakoku Decree has been lifted. And this is the third time Sara has a wavering—yes, wavering—demeanor during her visit. She had always been stubborn and sure in her stance. Eyes forward and sharp. Nothing like this.
Perhaps it would stop at the fifth time. Five is Sara's lucky number, or so she stated multiple times. Yae rolls her eyes. Though it's unlikely to be so. Sara is the type to bury those murky thoughts away, stacking them neatly at the back of her head and never properly process them to the point that they—process her instead.
Even with the chance of her resolving it on her own, Yae Miko does not think she could stand another second of this moping, dear archons—ah, no. Ei wouldn't be of help in this case. She is the source of the little tengu's anguish, of that, Yae is sure. What else could possible be in that bird brain of hers?
She doesn't think there could be any archons that could help little Sara here—unless...
Violet eyes gazes upon the cecilia flower a certain bard had given her during the last Irodori Festival, blessed to stay alive inside the vase she made. The soft and neutral color a single peculiarity in the midst of striking ones.
"You usually take five minutes. You're taking longer today and you're still looking down like your Shogun might appear from underground."
Sara startles at the sudden voice next to her ears. Yae leans back, a smug smirk on her face as she looks down on Sara with a gleam of promised trouble.
"No! I—I was only—" Sara stutters before taking a breath to compose herself. Shoulders taut, she bows in respect to the shrine maiden.
"Yae Miko," she raises back up with both hands as fists beside her. "It seems like I've overstayed my welcome. I shall go now."
The sound of her wooden geta against the pavement prominent as she starts walking the way she came from in brisk steps.
"Not so fast, little bird," Yae said. Her command smooth and laid-back, and yet Sara stilled in her step. Yae could physically see the way she stopped breathing, bracing for her next words.
"Your thoughts have been loud as of late, have you noticed?"
Even with her back against her, Yae could tell that Kujou Sara is pursing her lips. And as she said, her thoughts are awfully loud, Yae could see the gears turning.
"No, it might just be your imagination. You've been reading too many novels," she said back, her voice carefully neutral, but even Yae could see the cautious restraint there.
Yae paused, not to gather her thoughts, no. She waits for Sara to breath. One, two. One, two. Her ears twitched, hearing them all. She waits for her heartbeat to calm down, just a little bit because Yae knew that it would never be calm.
Once enough, Yae finally opens her mouth again. A sentence that could plant a seed even in the most composed of leaders—
"A couple of your men came here to pray for you."
A sharp yet shaky breath. Sara felt her muscles flexing underneath her clothes. Her head feels like exploding from pressure and her lungs were full.
Her men?
How do they see her to the point that they—
"As I've said," Yae steps closer to her. "Your thoughts have been loud. Wandering and crumbling all over the place you might as well be shouting," she tucks a cecilia flower over the tengu's burning ears.
Sara's heart stutters to a halt. Her lips trembling and her eyebrows tight as she tries to surpress and restrain and—
Her men has been praying for her.
She is wavering and it's so painfully visible that people started praying for her. Ever since the Sakoku Decree was lifted. Ever since an outlander, a complete stranger, changes the course of Inazuma.
"No, I'm not. I shouldn't," Sara tries to shake her head, keep the thoughts out. "Please excuse me, I need to—"
To what? Sara clenches her fists.
"Oh? Is there a place you need to be?" Yae carefully selected her question.
Where would Sara even go? Everyone would see her current state of disarray. Everyone would know that their general is disintegrating.
No one in Inazuma would take her in with warm arms. Not after all she did for the Sakoku Decree.
"I don't—know," she chokes out, the dam breaking from the first confession. And it sounded painful to say. "Lately all I've been doing is thinking," she admitted.
"And all of them leads to dangerous territories."
Yae watches as the girl in front of her—this strong girl who led wars and won— crumbles in front of her, bent down as the weight of her thoughts finaly goes down on her.
Sara sobs, her wings clinging onto herself for comfort. "I thought I've been right about eternity, doing everything for it, but then everything—everything changes because of—"
Sara couldn't bare to say it. An outsider. Or perhaps Sara has been the outsider all this time. All those times she had to watch the hurt, the fury, the life leaving someone's body—had been for naught.
"I don't understand anymore, Guuji Yae. I don't know what to do."
Yae sighs, soft enough that the tengu wouldn't notice. It was only the two of them here. She's sure her shrine maidens are working hard to keep it that way, but even then, time is ticking and surely someone would notice the general's prolonged visit.
Yae Miko is not the type to touch and handle people. She usually leaves that to her shrine maidens, but—she looks at Sara clentching her heart with erratic breathing.
She puts a soothing palm on the girl's back. "Come inside, why don't we? A tea should do it."
It was difficult, coaxing Sara inside her sanctuary, but it must be done. And it was a relief that she'd calmed down during their walk. Even then, Sara is still vulnerable. Still an open wound.
Yae could see it in the way she watches the ripples on her tea. The way she plays with the cup absentmindedly. And yet this is probably the only chance Yae could get into her. The walls usually separating Sara from the rest of the world has collapse in this instance. Right now Yae is seeing the raw version of her and nothing more.
"So your faith is wavering," she shoots straight to the source, knowing that this was the best approach for Sara. At least the current Sara.
"I'm not sure this is an appropriate topic to talk to a shrine maiden about," Sara said after moment. Her voice soft yet hoarse from use. Almost self-depreciating.
"The books I publish are not appropriate," Yae deadpans, waving her hand dismissively before going back to study the girl in front of her.
"You know, it's normal to waver. To question. Certainty could be... dangerous if not paired with curiosity," she started, sipping her own tea. "Plus, too many life altering events seems to have happened to you in such a short time," Yae paused, checking for any reaction from Sara for her to adjust.
"It would be unusual for you to not... waver."
Sara clentches her cups. Her palms white from the force and Yae could see her eyebrows tightens in thought.
"I am the Shogun's general. Her loyal servant. I should not waver," Sara spits out that last word like it's poison.
Yae sighs, this one loud enough on purpose for Sara to catch. "And that does not change the fact that you are wavering."
Sara flinches, but visibly deflates. A small bit of acceptance, Yae noted finally.
"If you don't give yourself time to process everything, then you will never stop wavering, do you understand that? And knowing you, you can't face your shogun like that, can you?"
Yae took the cecilia she had tugged behind Sara's ear and puts it on the table.
"Take a vacation. Experience the world. And from there, you figure out more about yourself. What you are sure about. That's the only way you'd stop wavering."
Kujou Sara sat on her futon that night, cradling the vase of cecilia flower deep in thought.
She looks over to her table where a bottle of dandelion wine sat. A gift from a bard she had wrongly apprehanded during Irodori Festival.
"The Shogun must be in peace knowing such a dedicated general is on her side," he had said before a gentle wind picks up and he puts a bottle of wine between them. "A gift. Whenever you want a chance to rest, open the bottle and take a sip."
Perhaps she should try Yae's advice. She was right. Sara had not been able to meet her Shogun's gaze after she was defeated by La Signora. She had been keeping her meetings with the Shogun to a minimal and though it'd been necesseray, it had hurt.
She looks at the cecilia in her arms, remembering the mondstadt friends she gained during Irodori.
Yae had always been full of mischief, teasing Sara endlessly. But today she had been sincere. And if Yae told her that taking a leave would help, she'd trust her advice on it. For her shogun too. She does not deserve a doubtful general.
So she lights up her room with a single light and took out a parchment. A formal leave request, signed with her sigil.