Archive of Our Own ^beta

One foot in front of the other, repeatedly, until she reached her destination. This was perhaps the most unconfined part of her schedule, yet even this was fixed in a rigid routine.

Day in and day out, all the weaponsmith knew was forging weapons for her shop. That was what she had been doing for as long as she could remember, and the burn scars from handling hot metal that covered her hands and the biceps from carrying around her finished pieces was what she had to show for it.

Some might have called it a static existence, but the weaponsmith was satisfied with her way of life. Making different types of weaponry and selling it to the streams of wandering samurai who dwindled in and out of her store. That was all she knew. She didn’t know how to live differently, couldn’t even recall ever doing so, so of course she was perfectly fine with it. 

If anyone were to ever ask her when she took a break, she supposed she would say the seventh day of each week. On this day, every week, the weaponsmith would close her store and make the walk into Inazuma City. Though the reasons for these visits were never to derive pleasure or entertainment from what the city had to offer. Instead, she kept her head down and hood up to avoid any unwanted conversation, and spent her time wandering between each market stall, exchanging small sacks of Mora for food and drink to last her until she returned.

Sometimes, if business had been kind the past few days, she even treated herself to something on the sweeter side to eat. This was what she had done just now, when she had realised that she still had some Mora left and everything she needed was sitting in the satchel on her back. After some contemplation, the weaponsmith found herself wading through the market crowds, a brown paper bag of fresh taiyaki clutched protectively against her chest. She didn’t have to walk for long until she came across a bench by a lakeside, sitting herself down to eat the pastries while they were still hot.

Away from everyone else, she finally allowed her hood to drop back down to her shoulders, and as she munched away at her dessert she began staring at herself in the pond water just in front of her. Her reflection stared back, unmoving save from her mouth that continued to chew slowly. Moments like these were the ones that the weaponsmith remembered she was an actual person with an actual body, as odd as it sounded. Living life on autopilot oftentimes left her with just her conscious thoughts, as if her physical body didn’t matter because of all the isolation. Yet here she was, with her long purple hair tied in a braid behind her back to keep it out the way, blank observing eyes of the same colour, and a beauty mark below the left one that she was sure was her one unique identifier.

She supposed, staring at her own mirror image in the water, that she still looked fairly young. Her actual age escaped her at this point, a piece of irrelevant information that had faded with time, but as the weaponsmith ran slender fingers across the rotting wood of the bench she sat on, she knew she would much rather be on the younger side. The bench had been there for so long it was eroding, and if there was one thing she feared in life, it was exactly that.

Erosion, a terrible thing. The process of losing everything, starting with your memories all the way to your sense of self, with time. She didn’t even remember how she knew what it was, all she knew was that she was terrified of it. So constantly exercising her body and mind through her line of work to prolong that process for as long as possible was how she lived her life, just so she could die of some other cause before erosion came to claim her next.

Time passes too quickly though. Much more quickly than the weaponsmith would like, because one second she was brushing the crumbs of her finished taiyaki off of her lap, and the next the sky was beginning to blot with darkness. Had she really been sitting there, deep in thought, for that long? She looked up in search of the moon, only to be greeted with thick, dark clouds, and she didn’t even need to feel the first raindrop on the tip of her nose to know what was coming.

Scrambling up, she tightened her satchel back around herself and began to make haste on the way back home. One foot in front of the other, repeatedly, but this time even faster. How hours had escaped her that much, the weaponsmith didn’t know, but all that mattered right now was getting home before the rain picked up even more. Usually, she could handle rain. In fact, she liked the rain, especially when the rain turned to thunder. But that was when she was inside the comfort of her bedroom, not out walking in it as it was getting worse each passing second.

It was like an ocean, showering down on her. Even her hood was of no protection against the elements as the icy water drenched the fabric and seeped right through it, down the back of her neck and dripping down her spine. Her boots squelched as she stepped off the cobblestone paths of the city and onto the muddy and grassy greenlands that she had to cross to get back to her store.

She knew she was halfway home when she reached the tavern. Never had she ever gone in there, merely using it as a landmark between her shop and the city to keep track of how long she had left between each destination. Now, though, with the warm light peeking out the windows, and the gentle sound of live music coming out from the place, the weaponsmith couldn’t help but see it as a safe haven. Despite never having the intention to step foot inside before, the temptation to sit down in there until the weather subsided took over, and so she ducked under the porch and pushed the door open.

Instantly, she was met with relief. Half the tables were filled with enough people who were too occupied with their drinks and conversations that no one had turned to pay attention to her entrance. A fire burned in the fireplace, which was enough heat to instantly get rid of her shiver. With no Mora left, and only the purpose of waiting out the rain, the weaponsmith made her way to a lone table by the window, setting her satchel down by her feet and looking out to watch the storm.

Thunder clapped in the distance, a bolt of lightning striking down outside, but it seemed to be something only she noticed amongst the sound of the live zither. She began to wonder if the weather would alleviate at all. Maybe this was a waste of time, and she should just muster some guts and stomach the rest of the way already. Before she could act on that train of thought, however, a voice interrupted her.

“Hello, dear, and welcome to the Fox and Samurai. What can I get you this evening?”

“My apologies. I’m not here to eat or drink,” she responded. She didn’t turn around, partially from shame and partially from simply not wanting to hold a conversation. 

“Nonsense. Then why else would you set foot in here?” Her server’s voice, though scolding, was playful, teasing and… familiar? But the weaponsmith still didn’t turn around.

“Shelter. Besides, I have no Mora.”

“Well, that won’t do. We’ve received a lot of profit this week, how about a meal on the house, hm? Something hot to eat, you look freezing and you’re dripping wet.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to reject the kind offer, but at that moment her eye caught onto the satchel underneath the table. She knew exactly what was in there — loaves of bread and vegetables, wrapped up with a few seasonings and spices. Although she knew she could live on what she had purchased, she couldn’t remember the last time she had had a proper, hearty meal that wasn’t sweets from a bakery, and the smell wafting to her nose from the kitchen and other guests’ plates was making her stomach pang.

“What do you have?” She eventually asked.

“Our special today is fried tofu, but—”

The weaponsmith didn’t listen to whatever else her server said. Fried tofu. The name of the dish, for whatever reason, had suddenly caught her off guard. It had stirred something up within her, thrown her heart into a frenzy which she had no explanation for. Finally, she whipped her head around, her eyes meeting those of her server. Her world stopped for just a split second.

Everyone the weaponsmith had ever come across was the exact same person to her. No matter if they were her samurai clients, the stall owners at the city market, or even the other tavern customers, in her day to day existence everyone else in the world was just the same dull person. But just the look of this woman’s face felt different .

Her eyes were purple, but of a lighter shade to the weaponsmith’s own. And they were filled with what could only be described as selfish wonder. Her hair was bright pink, and sitting on each side of her head was a pair of fox’s ears, sloped downwards. The weaponsmith almost wanted to reach her hand up and pet them, as if it were some sort of muscle memory begging at her to just give in and allow it, but she managed to restrain her arm tightly in her lap.

“Uh, fried tofu. Please,” she ended up saying.

“Good choice.” The woman grinned at her. “I’ll bring it over for you shortly.”

With that, she turned around and walked back behind the bar. The weaponsmith watched the whole time, all the way until she disappeared into the door that led to the kitchen, and as soon as her server was gone she began to feel the redness in her cheeks that definitely wasn’t due to the warmth of the fireplace. When her server returned a short while later, she trained her eyes on the seat in front of her, pretending that she hadn’t been watching and waiting for the second she stepped back out of the kitchen door.

“Fried tofu,” the server announced, laying the plate down on the table, and then placing a choko cup next to it. “And sake.”

“Thank you,” the weaponsmith responded breathlessly, mouth watering at the dish before her.

Steam plumed off of the diced tofu, which sat on a bed of kushikatsu, and the smell was to die for. While trying not to look too desperate, the weaponsmith proceeded to pick up her cutlery and dig in, though she couldn’t keep the neutral facade up for any longer than a few mouthfuls. The food was the best thing the weaponsmith had tasted in a while, and even though her server had opted to slide into the seat across from her rather than leave, she couldn’t help but pick up the pace as she ate.

“You must be hungry.” Her server chuckled.

With a swallow, the weaponsmith temporarily dropped her chopsticks. She picked up the cup, taking a swig of her drink before responding.

“My apologies. I can’t remember the last time I had a meal like this.”

“It’s quite alright. Just means my cooking is still up to scratch.” She flashed a grin.

“I would hope so, given the fact that you have a whole tavern of people here eating your food.” The weaponsmith responded, not realising she had cracked a joke until the words had left her lips.

“You flatter me, even though I didn’t get your name yet. I am Masako.”

“Masako,” the weaponsmith repeated, as if seeing how the name felt in her mouth. 

Of all the things her server— no, Masako— had set that night, and of all the familiarity that she exuded, this was the one thing that felt the most alien. The name did fit, but it wasn’t quite right . Like it was a second choice, an alias, a mispronunciation.

“Yes. And yours?”

“My name is…”

Except the next words didn’t come out. It was at that moment that she realised she couldn’t remember what she was called. Her cheeks burnt with embarrassment at the fact that she couldn’t procure such basic information. It had been so long since she had referred to herself, or had others refer to her, and so she supposed her own name had just slipped from her mind. As pathetic as that sounded.

“You don’t know?” Masako asked, and although her voice wasn’t judgmental the weaponsmith still wanted to squirm under her gaze.

“No.”

“Very well. Hm…” A pause. “To me, you look like a Mei.”

Mei. Hearing the name gave her the exact same feeling as hearing ‘Masako’ felt. Not quite right, but not entirely wrong either. Even so, it would do. Especially considering she had nothing to offer herself.

“I will use this name.” The weaponsmith— Mei, as she was now called— accepted, which earned a satisfied smile from Masako.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mei.”

“You too.” Mei nodded politely, but a part of her wanted to turn the conversation back onto Masako, make her forget about her blunder a few seconds prior. “How long have you worked at this tavern?”

“How long have I worked here? I own the place, and I’m the only employee.” Masako grinned. “Though, to answer your question, I’ve worked here long enough for the exact amount of years to escape me. I don’t remember doing anything other than this.”

Masako’s situation seemed just the same as her own, Mei noticed, but she didn’t bring it up.

“Do you not even remember why you started the business?” She asked instead, because at the very least Mei had some recollection of her forging of weaponry being a source of comfort and destress for her.

“Well, although I can’t say for certain that it was my original goal, I can tell you now that I’m a tavern owner because I like speaking to people. I like to find out their stories. And you look like you have a good few to tell.”

“Why?”

“Well, of all the time I have owned this place, I have never had a mysterious hooded woman walk into my tavern before, sitting all by herself. And I’m sure you can imagine that I must have had half of Inazuma in here, at some point or other.”

“I can,” Mei said, taking a final swing from her cup and finishing her meal. “I wish I could tell you a good story, but to tell the truth I am just a weaponsmith.”

“Oh, there has to be more to you than that.”

At Masako’s unspoken request, Mei really did try her hardest to try and think back. All the way to before she had started her smithery, she strained her mind to try and come up with something interesting. Though nothing changed, and she still couldn’t remember anything of note, which really shouldn’t have been a surprise. But she still wanted to come up with some sort of tale to tell Masako, just to say she had tried to put a smile on her face.

“Hm. I cannot say that it will match up to other stories you have been told, but some people might find the stories of the treasure hoarders who like to come to my store interesting. They like to try and rob me. I suppose they think a woman living by herself is an easy target, but they are sorely mistaken.”

“Tell me about some of that then.”

And so Mei began to tell Masako of the somehow numerous occasions that treasure hoarders had tried to ambush her while she worked or slept. Although Mei hadn’t been confident about how interesting her stories would be, Masako seemed to be thoroughly entertained, lapping up every single word. They both ended up laughing the hour away, recounting and listening to the various ways Mei had sent the nameless thieves on their way, poking fun at how pathetic they were when they found their place at the end of one of Mei’s blades. Did they really think could target someone who lived in a house of weaponry, and that the occupant had no knowledge or skill in how to use what she forged for a living? Masako found it hilarious, and Mei couldn’t help but laugh a little too, even if the old memories were nothing she had paid much mind to before.

As she ran out of situations to retell, Mei trailed off with a chuckle. Masako left the table for a few more minutes to retrieve a new bottle of sake and an extra cup, returning to top up Mei’s drink and fill up her own. It was only when she set the bottle down that Mei decided to speak again.

“Don’t you have any stories?”

“I have a collection of stories others have told me, but none of my own.”

As Masako spoke, Mei noticed one one of her fluffy pink ears twitch. It was ingrained into her that this type of body language was usually indicative of lying, but for some reason she just knew that that was not the case. No, she was certain that the tiny little muscle spasm was instead an indication of sadness, that Masako was not lying, but instead filled with longing to go out and adventure on her own terms. Mei didn’t know how she could read Masako like that, but she could.

“Well, tell me.” She decided to begin. “If you could write your own story, what would it be?”

Maybe no one had bothered to ask Masako about that before, because she seemed to waste no time in spilling out her dreams to Mei. She started with how she would leave Inazuma in an instant and sail across the ocean until she hit land again. Then, she would slowly make her way through every other nation of Teyvat. Over the mountains of Liyue, through the tundras of Snezhnaya, across the meadows of Mondstadt. She would jury a trial in Fontaine, attend a lecture in Sumeru, watch a tournament in Natlan. Then, when everything was ticked off her mile long bucket list, she would get on the next ship back to Inazuma, and that was when Masako would finally settle down, satisfied.

As Masako spoke about these desires, Mei could only listen intently. In every other situation she had ever been in, Mei had always purposefully avoided talking to others, trying to limit her social interaction to just the trading of goods. But, for some reason she couldn’t place, she just loved talking with Masako, listening to her ramble on about international custom. So much so that she paid no attention to the world around her, focused solely on the woman across from her instead. When the tavern began to empty around them, and the live music faded out, and the thunderstorm outside finally stopped, Mei didn’t even realise. Not until Masako pointed it out.

Looking around, Mei couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to lose track of so much time for the second time that day. Was it even that day anymore, or was it now some stupid early hour in the morning? At the very least, she supposed she had her conversation with Masako to use as an excuse now, rather than just getting distracted by looking at her own reflection.

“The rain has finally gone,” she stated what neither of them wanted to. “So I suppose it’s time for us to part.”

Masako didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but as Mei slowly stood up from her chair, she finally spoke.

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

“I haven’t announced this publicly yet, so please don’t let word spread.” She began, earning a confused look from Mei. “But I was thinking of beginning to double as an inn. I have a spare room which I have recently converted to a bedroom.”

Mei knew exactly what it was; an invitation. But her mind drifted to her store.

“I have no Mora to rent the room.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s free for tonight, just for my very first guest.” Masako rolled her eyes. “The rain might have stopped, but it’s much too late for you to leave now. You may be very capable but I don’t want to send you off in the dark. Please, stay here tonight.”

“…Fine.” Mei relented. A decision that was absolutely worth the smile that came to Masako’s face afterward.

“Excellent.” Masako clapped her hands excitedly, standing up. “In that case, please come with me.”

It felt strange as Mei followed Masako behind the counter and through the door into the kitchen, turning left to go up a flight of stairs. For someone who had no plans to ever set foot in the tavern, becoming the establishment’s first overnight guest as it converted into an inn felt like a wild jump to make. She looked around as they reached the landing, and although it was just a hallway she could tell that this whole place was much tidier than her own. Where she had hunks of scrap metal, tools, and sawdust everywhere, Mei was struggling to find a single fault here. If anything, it was cozy. Masako stopped in front of the first of three different closed doors.

“This is your room,” she said, and then pointed at the door furthest away from the stairs. “And that is my room. Please don’t fret to wake me up if you need anything.”

“Okay.” Mei nodded, but she already knew that she wasn’t going to dare to wake up Masako.

“Please excuse how bland the room is at the moment. Like I said, it’s in the works. But you have all the basics, and there are some fresh pyjamas in the closet. Feel free to go to the kitchen if you want anything to eat or drink during the night.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Masako smiled sweetly. “Well then, I am going to clean up downstairs and then I will go to bed too. Goodnight, Mei.”

“Goodnight.”

As Masako descended back down the staircase, Mei pushed open the door. Just as it had been described, the room was mostly bare save from the absolute basics. Not that Mei cared. A bed was all she needed, and somehow the place still felt cozy enough. Closing the door quietly behind her, she set her satchel in the corner and stripped out of her clothes, which were still damp from rain. She hung them over the curtain railing to dry before slipping into the pyjamas Masako had told her about, and then finally climbing into the bed.

It was so much more comfortable than the worn mattress she had at home. She was almost out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she allowed herself to stay awake long enough to listen to the sound of Masako potter about downstairs. Mei couldn’t believe herself right now, laying there and preparing to sleep in a bed that wasn’t her own, but she wasn’t mad at herself by any means. No, instead she found herself drifting off to sleep with a warm feeling in her chest, as if some part of herself that she didn’t even know was missing had finally been filled.

When she woke up, she was completely refreshed. Sleep was never hard to come by for her, not with the arduous work she did all day, but this was the first time in a long time it had actually been satisfying. Even if she hadn’t dreamt of anything, it was fulfilling all the same. Mei found it difficult to open her eyes as she stirred awake, let alone pull herself out of the bed; the mattress too comfortable and the covers too warm. But eventually the brightness of the sun peeking through the gap in the curtains and the cooing of birds outside won. That, and the fact that she couldn’t keep her generous host waiting for much longer. Not when she could hear her downstairs once more. So Mei pulled herself from the bed, pausing only to stretch before picking up her now dried clothes and dressing herself, grabbing her satchel full of groceries, and heading back down.

As soon as Mei got to the ground floor and into the front of the tavern, her eyes landed on Masako. She was already wide awake, working her way around each one of the tables and wiping the surfaces with a rag. Despite clearly being in the middle of preparing to open back up for a new day of custom, she still looked up to greet Mei as soon as she heard her step out of the kitchen door.

“Good morning!” She beamed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. The best rest I have had in a long time. I didn’t want to get up.”

“Very good.” The beam that was on Masako’s face turned into more of a sly smirk, but from Mei’s raised eyebrow she quickly defended herself. “What? I really did offer you the room out of the kindness of my heart, but can’t an aspiring innkeeper use this as a little test for her business too?”

“I now know exactly what type of person you are.” Mei combatted, but her comment wasn’t hostile. Just playful.

“Hmph. Now sit down so I can make you your breakfast. I don’t open until lunch time so there is no rush.”

As she had been instructed, Mei took a seat, this time on one of the tables in the centre of the room that didn’t look like it had been wiped down yet. She let her satchel sit on the chair next to her, and then leaned her head in her palm, watching the clouds drift about in the sky outside as Masako disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned not long afterward, she placed a small bowl and cutlery in front of Mei.

“Still on the house, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Mei said.

Her eyes fell onto the dish in front of her, a bowl of steamed rice and eggs. Again, Mei found herself shovelling down her breakfast, because, just like dinner the night before, she couldn’t remember the last time she had tasted something so good. However, she regretted her decision as soon as she swallowed her last bite. With the bowl now empty in front of her, and the clock ticking on, Mei realised that it really was time to go now.

Masako was rummaging behind the counter, distracted by her work. With a frown, Mei looked between her host and the door, almost not wanting to leave, but she knew she couldn’t put it off for any longer. So she stood back up and threw her satchel over her back, then walked to the front counter to place her emptied bowl on top of it.

“Thank you again for the meal.”

“Oh, it’s no problem really.” Masako looked up from what she was doing, and it only took a few seconds for her to notice the satchel strap draped around Mei. “Oh.”

“And thank you for your hospitality. I am truly grateful.”

“No problem. It’s just my job, after all.”

There was something different about her energy now. An air of sadness, which seemed to be contagious in the way that it wafted over to Mei and made her heart sink just looking at it.

“Now I must get back to my own shop.”

“Don’t you want to stay another day?” Masako suddenly blurted out.

“What would I do?”

“We can… venture into the city together. And have some fun.”

“Masako. You have a tavern to run, and I have a store. I’m sorry.”

Watching Masako’s despair just becoming more obvious pained Mei. It really did hurt her to reject Masako’s requests, hating the fact that she was the reason for the tavern owner’s frown right now. She wanted to say yes, she really did. But there was just some innate fear, rooted deep within her, something she just couldn’t shake, and it wouldn’t allow her to.

Change . The thought of it gnawed away at her, and just imagining her fixed schedule becoming so twisted at her own hand made Mei’s stomach churn with unease. For others, she lived a plain existence, but for Mei, her routine was everything. If she were to swap one of those working days out of her cycle, then who knew what storms she would have to face later. So, as guilty as she felt for it, Mei knew she couldn’t relent from saying goodbye.

Thankfully, Masako didn’t take it further.

“I see. Well, please be safe on the way home.”

“I will, thank you. Have a good day at work.” Mei walked towards the front door, but looked back one more time before pushing it open. “Perhaps I will return again in seven days.”

With that, she was gone. 

Thanks to the tavern acting as a pitstop between home and the city, the walk back wasn’t nearly as long as it usually was. Mei took a deep breath, allowing the morning air to fill her lungs, looking down at the ground. Not many people had left their homes yet, it seemed, based on the fact that dew still clung onto each blade of grass, shining under the pale sun like sequins. It was a gorgeous sight, but not one she could marvel at for any longer as she reached her own front door.

Fumbling with the key in the lock, Mei stepped back inside and immediately dropped her satchel from her back. As she kicked off her shoes, she noticed that pages of parchment had been slipped underneath her door, and it alarmed her to see how many commissions for weaponry that had stacked up after spending just one night away. This was why she had to say no to Masako.

There was no time to rest now. Immediately, Mei headed for her workshop, getting the heat on to work on shaping her materials. While the furnace warmed up, she looked back at the bundle of papers, and began envisioning blueprints in her mind as for what the first sword she had been asked to make would look like. As soon as the fire was ablaze and the materials were gathered, Mei got to work.

Back again, she was doing what she always did. Heating the metal enough so it would bend into shape, sanding down the beginnings of a hilt while it cooled down, and then filing the blade against an anvil to sharpen it to perfection. But something just didn’t feel right anymore. Mei didn’t know why, because this was simply what her life was, but she didn’t feel like she could just spend her days absentmindedly forging weaponry anymore. There was something she needed to do. Someone she needed to see.

And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Change was too unpredictable, too dangerous. Mei couldn’t imagine throwing herself off the deep end. This was all she had, and all she had ever known. Even if Masako was so strikingly familiar, even if she wanted to know more about the woman… Mei just couldn’t afford to shake up her whole world like that. It frightened her too much.

In fact, just thinking about it was starting to fill her with a sense of dread. Anxiety pooled in the pit of her stomach, and for the first time ever, Mei found herself beginning to struggle at her job. Her hands were becoming too shaky, and the heat of the flame felt too hot all of a sudden. Although she didn’t want to admit defeat, Mei knew better than to keep working like this. The last thing she wanted to do was give her customers faulty products. And so, she nursed the furnace fire back down to ashes and stepped away from her workshop, heading into her bedroom and grabbing her satchel on the way.

She sat on top of her bed and faced the wall, instantly noticing how much her mattress felt like a paving slab compared to the one she had slept on the night before. Mei also couldn’t help but compare her dinner to the two meals she had had at Masako’s too; the bread and vegetables she had procured for herself tasting like cardboard.

With nothing else to do after she had eaten, Mei decided to just get an early night of rest, so she was revving to go come the next morning to continue her work. After laying there for what seemed like forever, clinging onto her thin and raggedy blanket for comfort, she finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Her dreams provided no escape though. Mei found herself in the middle of a dusty wasteland, grey terrain sweeping as far as she could see and a dull lilac sky hanging above her. There was no wind, but she still felt a chill down her spine, as if she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be. Before she could investigate further, a figure materialised in front of her.

Herself . The figure was herself. Or someone who looked a striking amount like herself.

Mei’s body double was slightly taller than she was. She wore all white rather than her own signature dark colours, and held an umbrella above her head even though there was no rain to be shielded from. There was no beauty mark under her left eye, and Mei couldn’t help but notice she looked so much calmer than she ever had. That calmness seemed to exuberate off of her, because even though Mei had no idea who her body double was, she knew she was safe. Her body double spoke first.

“Pursue Mi—” She began, but then seemed to suddenly correct herself. “Masako. Pursue Masako.”

There was no time for Mei to ask any questions. No ‘why’, no ‘who are you’. It was as if she was forced awake by the same figure in her dream, as she jolted upright, eyes wide open and body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She remembered everything from her dream vividly. Those two words, echoing around her mind.

Pursue Masako.

Mei didn’t need to be told twice. That goodbye from earlier meant nothing. Her fears meant nothing. Something was wrong, she just had a gut feeling. And she trusted that figure. Her body double. 

Outside, the moon hung in the sky like a silver coin, casting the landscape in a whitish glow. It looked almost eerie, but Mei was just glad it allowed her to see her way more clearly as she clambered outside, boots tied on and katana hidden inside her coat. She had no idea what time it was, but guessed that it was well past midnight, and she walked with a sense of urgency until the familiar tavern came into view.

Upon first glance, everything seemed fine. But as Mei drew closer, she realised that that was absolutely not the case. A window on the bottom floor had been smashed in, causing a large enough opening for a person to climb through. She furrowed her eyebrows, ducking below the sill, careful not to step on any of the shards of glass so she could listen to what was going on inside without detection before she made her next move.

“Where does she keep the damned Mora?”

“Just keep looking, for Archon’s sake.”

The word archon drilled in Mei’s mind, but she tossed it away for now. She had a feeling she knew what was happening. Treasure hoarders, a robbery. And she was fairly sure Masako wasn’t trained in combat like she was. She could tell.

“Maybe we can try and pawn off some of these things instead. Is there any expensive wines here? Furniture?”

“Better yet, we pawn off the girl. Come on, guys. Pink hair and cute little fox ears, bet we’d make a real dime out of that one, huh?”

Mei decided she didn’t need to listen to anything else. Drawing her sword in preparation, she leapt through the broken in window and landed gracefully inside the building. Her entrance hardly went unnoticed though, the sound of her impactful landing being the loudest noise in the room among the hushed whispers. Three treasure hoarders all snapped their heads around at the same time, messily drawing their own weapons out too. Clearly, they were unprepared for any opposition tonight, and Mei chuckled quietly to herself as she knew it would be an easy fight.

In one swift motion she was across the room, meeting the first treasure hoarder in the middle. It took no effort to strike him down before she moved onto the next one, giving him the same treatment. Mei couldn’t explain when she had first learnt to fight, she just knew that she was good at it. All it took was a threatening look towards the third treasure hoarder as she spat down at the crumpled, half conscious bodies of his comrades for him to drop his weapon in surrender.

“Please don’t—”

“Leave here,” Mei spoke, and her voice was pulsating electricity. “Take your friends, and do not ever come back.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Mei stood there and watched as the treasure hoarder scrambled to haul the both of his friends up, hands wrapped dangerously around her sword. Slinging one over each of his shoulders, he didn’t dare to look back as he stumbled back out the window with them. Only when the three figures were safely in the distance did she loosen her grip, resting the sword onto one of the tables.

“Masako?” Mei finally called out, and her voice was so soft and gentle contrasted to just minutes before. “It is Mei. Please come out.”

Slowly, the door to the kitchen creaked open, and despite the darkness, Mei could just about make out a cautious Masako surveying the situation. She had no idea how she knew the woman was standing right there, it was as if she could just sense it. But there was no time to ponder that right now.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Unscathed.” Masako finally deemed it safe enough to come out properly.

As soon as she stepped into the moonlight, Mei could tell that her wellness was something of an act. Physically, Masako looked fine. Much to Mei’s relief, the treasure hoarding trio hadn’t made their way upstairs before she had arrived. But as much as Masako tried to act cool, her body betrayed her. Her eyes were still wide despite there being no immediate danger, arms hugged around herself in a defensive stance, and her limbs quivering slightly, which definitely wasn’t because of the cold air floating in from the smashed window.

“You are safe now,” Mei stated.

“Thank you,” Masako responded. Her voice was so solemn, so serious, so genuine.

“Of course.” Mei nodded. She looked down at the smashed shards of glass all over the floor. “Did they destroy anything else?”

“I think they may have just rummaged and messed up the things I have below my counter.”

“Good. I am glad I could make it here in time.” She realised, as she said it, that she hadn’t explained why she had randomly decided to come back in the middle of the night.

Luckily, Masako seemed to be too preoccupied with what had just happened to care.

“Mei, will you please stay here tonight?”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

For the second time, Mei found herself following Masako through the kitchen door, up the stairs and into the first bedroom. This time around, Masako didn’t bother to remind her where everything was, simply giving her a tiny nod of goodnight and closing the door behind her.

Seeing Masako become so withdrawn was like seeing a completely different person from the one Mei knew. Granted, they had only known each other a day, but Mei also just knew that this wasn’t in Masako’s character. Her heart ached at the odd behaviour, her mind allowing for nothing else other than thoughts of how shaken up Masako was.

That night, Mei didn’t allow herself to sleep. She didn’t even lay down, not even tired. All the way until morning, she was on high alert, perched on the edge of the bed with her hand close to her sword just in case she needed to fight again. As she sat there, she wondered if Masako was able to sleep again after the whole ordeal, or if she was laying awake and scared right now. Temptation crept within her to abandon her post in the first bedroom and go in to see Masako. To climb into the bed with her and hold her until she fell asleep, safe and secure in her arms. Mei almost went and did it, but she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t so sure that Masako would take too kindly to that.

When the sun began to peek up from over the distant mountains, it didn’t take long for Mei to register the sound of Masako climbing out of her bed. Her footsteps drummed slowly against the floor, circling around her bedroom. Mei knew she was probably just getting dressed for the new day, but she couldn’t help but sense a hesitance to leave her room before she finally heard Masako walk down the hall and descend the stairs.

Sensing that perhaps Masako wanted some time alone for a bit, Mei stayed sitting there for an hour longer. She listened to the sounds of Masako walking around downstairs, wondering if she was really considering opening up that day despite everything during the night. Only when the birds started singing did Mei finally take it as her cue to get up. She walked a few cycles around her room too, to mimic the sound of getting ready, not wanting Masako to know that she had actually spent the night wide awake.

Then she went downstairs too, carefully swinging open the kitchen door to find Masako setting a table for two in the corner.

“Good morning.” Masako turned her head towards Mei as soon as she entered.

She seemed to be relatively calmer now, more well put together.

“Hello.”

“I heard you walking around upstairs, so I made you breakfast ready for when you come down. And myself some, too.”

Masako gestured to the two dishes that sat on the table she was standing by, and despite everything Mei couldn’t help but feel excited for even more of Masako’s cooking.

“Thank you,” she said as she walked over and sat down in one of the seats.

A bowl of miso soup was waiting before her, and Mei gladly picked up her spoon to start eating. Masako followed suit, but she wasn’t done talking.

“No… thank you. I don’t know what might have happened if you weren’t here last night. Nor would I have been able to sleep at all again if you weren’t in the spare room. So, thank you, truly. I owe you plenty.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Even so. Please, let me repay you.”

“Your hospitality and kindness has been more than enough for me. If anything, last night was me settling my debts.”

“Nonsense.” Masako shook her head, swallowed a mouthful of food, then continued. “Please let me take you to the city today. As a real thank you.”

It was the proposition that had torn them apart just a day before, back on the table again. Mei remained silent for a few seconds, ladling soup onto her spoon as she contemplated the request. That fear from earlier bubbled up again, but as she thought back across the last few hours Mei knew she had already shaken up her life enough. That fear wasn’t something she should listen to anymore. Instead, she thought of the figure from her dream, and what they told her.

Pursue Masako.

This was worth it.

“I will come to the city with you.”

At that, Masako’s eyes seemed to light up. It was the complete opposite of the downcast reaction she had had when Mei rejected her offer previously, and this time it made her heart flutter rather than strain.

“Good.” That smug look of Masako’s had finally returned.

A few hours later, Mei found herself waiting down the path outside while Masako locked the tavern door. They had spent that time eating their breakfast, and then Mei had offered to board the broken window with some old materials lying around in the other spare room of Masako’s. With their dishes washed up and the tavern resecured, their trip into the city was ready to commence. Masako pocketed the door key and walked down to meet Mei.

If she was being honest, Mei didn’t know what to expect of the trip to the city. After all, the place wasn’t completely new to her seeing as she trekked down there for her weekly shop. Though, as she walked with Masako, she found that the journey there was suddenly a lot more entertaining. Rather than training her gaze down on her feet the whole time, watching one foot repeatedly go after the other, she was instead looking around at everything Masako was pointing out.

Different flowers, sprouting through tall patches of grass. Tiny streams of water that led to the sea, and the colourful fish that swam within them. Land animals, too. Dogs, cats, foxes. Little purple beetles that sat lazily around tree trunks. Different shapes of clouds in the sky, and how the sun was hiding behind them. Despite walking this route every week without fail, Mei was amazed with how much she had missed. Or, rather, how much she had ignored.

When they reached the cobblestone streets of the city, Mei actually found herself excited to see what it had to offer beyond her quick market trades. She let Masako lead the way, silently relieved when they walked right past the marketplace, which was just as crowded as it always was. Instead, they made their way onto the high street, and while there were still rows and rows of stores here, they seemed to be selling more than just food and essentials.

Together, they looked inside each one. One store, which Masako was particularly interested in, sold stacks and stacks of small little books, called light novels. They must have spent at least an hour there just flicking through them all, laughing over the contents with each other. Mei felt warmth rise in her chest as Masako skimmed the different books. She really did love her stories, and apparently she really loved this place, too.

Mei ended up becoming particularly interested in the local blacksmith, Amenoma Smithy. Of all the times she had visited the city, she had never even known this place existed before. From across the street she watched with awe as the two employees worked, hammering different metals into shape with precision and ease. She made a mental note to try out their technique later, maybe even come back to commission them herself rather than make her own sword the next time she needed one.

Slowly but surely, they worked their way through the whole city. Past Naganohara Fireworks, a store which had been passed down with each generation of family, where they found joy in even the simplest things like light sparking at the end of a stick. A sparkler, the employee said it was called. Beautiful fabrics and designs existed in Ogura Textiles and Kimonos, and they were given the privilege to try a few of them on. Ornate arts and crafts were at home at Yayoi Lacquerware, the careful engravings and paint jobs so delicately placed. Masako ended up buying Mei a bottle of what was called dango milk, some drink that had apparently been popularised ages ago, and she could tell why. This was the type of drink Masako needed to start offering in her tavern. Mei had had it for five minutes, and already she had nearly downed the whole thing.

When they reached the end of the high street, Mei didn’t want to turn back.

“Can we go up here?” She asked as they appeared at a ramp.

“I think so. It’s a landmark, after all.” Masako said.

That was how the women ended up standing at the top of the city, but watching over the people below wasn’t in Mei’s current interests. Instead, she gawked up at the statue beside her, mouth slightly agape. It was huge, towering well above her, and yet entirely well kept. No craftsmanship she had ever seen compared to it. Hands on its lap, head bowed, intricate wings folded behind the figure it depicted. Even if it was just old stone, Mei, for some reason, felt drawn to it. It looked like the figure in her dream, almost. It looked like her .

Maybe she could have stood there and stared at the statue forever, if the sound of a stranger yelling at her didn’t startle her from her trance.

“The Almighty Shogun is eternal, and she will return to us!” The man enthusiastically told her, shoving a pamphlet into her hands.

“What is this?” Mei asked.

“Read it!” The man yelled the answer in her face, despite the question being aimed at Masako. “Her Excellency may not be here in the flesh, but she is always watching, and she will return one day!”

“The Shogun will return when the time is right, not because you preachers are yelling at her to do so on the street.” Masako cut in, her words harsh and cold. “Now leave us.”

Although confused, Mei allowed Masako to rip the pamphlet from her hands and throw it onto the ground. She was dragged quickly away from the scene, but she could still hear the man yelling after them both.

“The Almighty Shogun and her Lady Guuji will strike you dead for blasphemy!”

Neither of them bothered to look back.

Moments like these reminded Mei why she made her visits to the city as brief as possible. Even with all the good things they had done that day, all the memories made, there were always going to be strange people like that man. And yet, although his comments were unwarranted, as Mei allowed Masako to lead her to a quieter place, his words spun around her mind. Shogun and Guuji . For some reason, she just found them interesting. Significant.

So, when Masako finally brought her to a more shaded area below the hustle of the city above, Mei decided to ask why. After all, Masako seemed to know exactly what she was saying to that preacher.

“I couldn’t tell you the full story.” Masako shrugged. “Just bits I’ve heard from listening into conversations at the tavern.”

That was how Mei learned about the Electro Archon, the Raiden Shogun, the god of this nation, and the Lady Guuji whose name no one seemed brave enough to speak. The Shogun’s reign was eternal, but she began to appear less and less frequently until one day she disappeared altogether. The Lady Guuji followed in the same direction shortly afterward. No one knew where they went, but to this day it was believed they were together, watching over Inazuma from afar.

As Masako retold the story, a strange wave of nostalgia washed over Mei. She must have been told it before, only for it to slip her mind as she focused on more important things. After all, Masako didn’t know the whole thing either, what with all the gaps and second guesses she made while telling it. Whatever the true story was, Mei hoped the Shogun and the Lady Guuji were with each other right now, just as the people believed.

They sat down in the grass and ended up just talking after that. Their discussions consisted of nothing at all, but that in itself was everything at once. Mei swore she could listen to Masako talk about anything forever, and never get bored. It was like she got drunk off of her voice.

Only when the moon began to rise in the sky did they bother standing back up, that being their signal to go home. Thankfully, on this night, it didn’t start raining as it had done before, but there was no denying the icy air of dusk. However, it wasn’t the wind that made Mei almost freeze in place. Instead, it was the feeling of Masako wrapping her arm inside Mei’s own, joining their hands, effectively pressing her entire body weight against Mei’s side. Huddling for warmth, Mei guessed, but that whole entire side of her body suddenly felt as light as a feather the whole way home.

Arriving back at the tavern was what forced them to separate, so Masako could unlock the door and allow them both inside. It was just how they had left it, much to their combined relief.

“Would you come upstairs with me?” Masako asked as she locked the door again.

Mei accepted, but this time she walked up the stairs and right past the first door, then the second, until she was standing in front of the third door; Masako’s bedroom. She felt like she was intruding in a way if she went inside, but Masako was insistent on inviting her. And she couldn’t say no to that look.

This room was even cozier than the guest bedroom. Mei supposed that was a given, considering this one was actually adequately furnished beyond the basics, but she still found it comforting. A rug covered most of the floor, and shelves of books lined the walls. Considering how much Masako liked her stories, she bet they had all been read, and then read again. The bed was a double, neatly made from this morning, cushions all over it.

“It’s very…” Mei thought for a moment. “It’s very you in here.”

Masako chuckled. “Should I take that a compliment?”

“Yes. I like it in here.”

“Thank you.”

Mei just smiled in return.

Silence then ensued. Mei didn’t know what Masako was thinking, but her own head was full. She couldn’t quite believe herself, and how much things had changed since just a day ago. Change. It was one of the only things that well and truly scared Mei. It was a threat to everything she knew, and it was something she never wanted to experience. Yet, here she was, bringing it on herself.

And, surprisingly, she had absolutely no regrets. For as long as she could remember, Mei had been weaponsmithing. She liked what she did, and she could get by with it just fine, but now she realised that that was just a state of existence. With Masako, the world suddenly seemed wider, more full. Mei had a name now. She had more experiences under her belt besides the weapon forging, and in just one day she had created more unique memories for herself than she had ever known before. There was no way she could just return to that old life again. Not after this.

Maybe Mei was crazy, but her heart felt so, so full. She glanced up at Masako again. The familiarity that had been there from the very first meeting seemed to have only increased tenfold. This day had brought something out within Mei. Whether it was bravery or stupidity, she couldn’t place. All she knew was she needed to speak up.

“Masako. I need to tell you something.”

“Hm? Go ahead.”

“I am drawn to you. I mean—- I…” She trailed off, needing to collect her words. “Since you first spoke to me you felt familiar. And it’s been just one day, but that feeling has only grown. I… I need you, Masako. It feels like I have known you for an eternity already, and…”

“You don’t want to leave. You can’t explain it, but you just know so much about me. And you know we are meant to be together.”

“How…?”

“Oh, dear Mei.” Masako laughed softly. “I feel the exact same way.”

“You feel this connection too?”

“I’ve been running this place for as long as I can remember. I cannot remember a single thing before it. It’s like I just woke up here one day, and that was my life. So, naturally, I’ve seen thousands of people come in and out. But you… you were different.”

“When you came to speak to me, it wasn’t just for a story?”

“Well, partially it was. But do you really think I spend my entire evening focused on just the one guest?”

“…No.”

“See. I cannot explain it either, but you are special, Mei. And of all the people who have been and gone, I’ve never met someone who was like me. Who woke up one day and lived the life that was given to them, who can’t remember anything from before.”

“I haven’t either. I think our paths were meant to cross.”

“I think so too.”

“Then let me hold you in my arms.”

Masako did as asked, shuffling closer to Mei. As she had been desperate to do the previous night, Mei wrapped Masako inside herself, and for a while this contact was all she needed. But the desire grew. Apparently, it did in both of them.

“Mei?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me, please.”

So Mei did. Her head leant down to meet Masako’s lips, her hands still fixed on Masako’s waist, and her eyes closed. It started off as just a kiss, but the moment their lips touched it turned into so much more. That same familiarity, Mei could feel it getting stronger in her gut, and she could swear that Masako could feel it too. The feeling only pushed Mei on, and she found herself to be in sync with Masako.

Her hands crept up Masako’s back, slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, holding onto her bare skin. Feeling that body heat and soft flesh in her palms. She felt Masako’s hands fixate around her torso, holding on just as tightly, pawing away at what was hers, claiming it for her own. Like she had for the past day, Mei just knew what she had to do next. She turned them both over, using a leg to throw the blanket over them both. They stayed like that well into the night, and not once did their lips or hands stop exploring each other’s bodies until they both knew it was time to sleep.

When Mei woke up, it was to the sensation of Masako playing with the ends of her hair.

“Hello,” she spoke, voice drowsy with sleep.

“Good morning,” Masako quietly replied.

Instead of responding, Mei began to recall the night before. It had felt so perfect, so right, like they had done it a thousand times before. She could feel their bare limbs tangled up in one another underneath the sheets, a token of the night they had shared. Mei felt like she could just lay there forever, and when she felt Masako begin to shuffle out of the bed she quickly grabbed her arm to stop her.

“No breakfast yet. Stay here with me.”

“If you insist.” And she did.

“I don’t want to ever leave here.” Mei thought aloud.

“This bedroom?”

“Here. You.”

“Then don’t. Stay.”

“What will I do, though? I have a business as well.”

“My spare room,” Masako responded. “The other one, that I haven’t converted yet. It’s a junk room. But we can clean it, convert it. You bring all your things, and restart your smithery from there.”

“A joint business.” Mei pondered the suggestion, and then grinned. “Sounds very financially beneficial.”

“What can I say? We get to spend our lives together, and we both make double the money for our work. Not to mention I get a security guard, and you get a chef.” Masako spoke with a sly smile that matched Mei’s own.

“I’m sold.”

Really, she was sold from the very beginning. Even if she had to sacrifice her job. She was ready for this— for Masako— to become her new constant. But this solution was the best of both worlds.

Eventually, they had to force themselves out of the bed and back into some clothes. After another shared breakfast, Masako took Mei upstairs to see the other spare room, behind the second door.

“It looks big enough.” Mei stood in the middle, visualising where she would put all of her tools, and it all seemed to fit in her mind.

“In that case, how about we start?” Masako suggested, and Mei was more than happy to agree.

Really, the two of them were just eager to get the moving in process over as quickly as possible. So smitten with each other, they wanted everything sorted just so they could continue on as they had been doing so yesterday. Even if it had been just a day, both of them just knew it was right.

“Do you want these books?” Mei asked. “They look like the ones from the bookstore in the city… but much older.”

Among the piles of old junk, she had found a stack of dusty, cobwebbed books. Most of the things they had just been throwing away, but she figured these might be of interest.

“Hm. Show them to me,” Masako responded.

Mei carried the pile over to Masako, setting them down in front of her and watching as she began to flick through the pages of each one. The process went by quickly, until they reached the book at the very bottom of the stack. A hardback novel, bound in a faded pink material with yellowed pages from age.

“The girl on the front looks like you.” Mei pointed out. “What is it called?”

“ Pretty Please Kitsune Guuji, ” Masako read out. “I don’t remember this book.”

“Look inside,” Mei su. That feeling was back.

Masako obliged, flicking through all the pages with a raised eyebrow. Tired of watching for a reaction, Mei kneeled down behind her, peering over her shoulder to read the pages for herself. However, it was only when they reached the back cover did something finally click. Etched into the back was a sentence that changed everything.

“This book was commissioned by Yae Miko…” Mei read aloud to herself, but couldn’t read the rest.

Thousands of images suddenly flashed up in her mind. Memories, returning to her, all at once, but they all suddenly made sense in her brain. 

“Don’t forget who taught you how to place your consciousness in objects.”

The Plane of Euthymia.

“Does that qualify me to, maybe, take the position of Shogun for a couple of days?”

A scheming pink fox at the Grand Narukami Shrine.

“Pursue Mi—”

Makoto.

It all came back to her, all at once.

“ Miko ,” she spoke in sudden realisation.

And then, as if speaking Masako— no, Miko’s — real name out loud was the trigger, just like it had been for herself, the same look of realisation flooded across her face too.

“ Ei .”

Everything came back to them. The erosion, their names, their story. Engulfing them in what should have been fear from such a revelation or grief over missing out on what could only have been thousands of years of history. But instead it was like being washed in a wave of euphoria, of relief, of love and ecstasy. For as long as they had each other, everything else would just fall into place.