Chapter Text
From Ao's and Suisen's Points of View
The ceremony unfolded beneath a canopy of ancient lantern trees, their glowing branches swaying gently in the evening breeze.
Gero Haunt Springs shimmered behind them, mist curling faintly over the courtyard as dusk fell. Floating lights illuminated the open-air shrine in warm, dreamlike hues.
Fuji stood at the center, clad in formal Hinomoto attire—though he had refused the full ceremonial hat, claiming it made him look like a noodle vendor. His posture was stiff, hands at his sides, visibly itching to fight something… or at least to be done with all the staring.
But the moment Pirilika stepped into view, all that tension melted.
She wore a kimono edged in golden thread. The intricate design braided together her Wahei heritage, her Hinomoto future, and her unmistakable nekomata spirit.
Her tail swayed with restless energy, betraying nerves she didn’t voice. Her hands trembled faintly as she reached for his.
Fuji met her halfway, taking her hands in both of his. His guarded expression softened into something peaceful.
Her gaze steadied—not because the nerves vanished, but because he was there.
Yeyasu stepped forward in full Shogun regalia, with Higan and Rekka at his side.
“As the grandest, wisest, and most devastatingly handsome officiant in the Netherworld, I now pronounce you—”
“Get on with it,” Higan murmured.
“—ugh, fine. Partners in life, in battle, in taxes, and probably in sleep deprivation soon enough. You may now kiss the bride.”
Pirilika giggled, a sound that rippled like wind through hanging bells.
Fuji leaned in and kissed her gently.
The guests—demons, angels, and a few curious spring spirits—cheered.
Even the lanterns above seemed to weep glowing motes into the dusk, like stars falling into mist.
From Ao’s Point of View
The celebration stretched long into the night.
From a distance, Ao watched Fuji and Pirilika dance, a warm smile tugging at her lips.
Yeyasu approached, Rekka slumped against his chest, her head heavy to one side. Her small hands still clutched a half-eaten rice cracker.
“So… how are you feeling, Ao?”
“I feel great, Uncle Yey-yey,” she replied.
He smiled.
Ao leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Always,” he said, nodding.
She glanced back at the newlyweds, their figures glowing beneath drifting lanterns, and whispered:
“Many turns of the Dark Sun ago, when Dad was still cursed, I told him I’d never accept a mother weaker than me.” (1)
Yeyasu raised an eyebrow.
“And the truth?” Ao added, sheepishly shrugging. “Back then, I just didn’t want anyone near Dad who might hurt him. But even then… I think I knew if he stayed cursed, he’d never be this happy.”
Together, they looked back at Fuji and Pirilika—Fuji now letting her lead, Pirilika glowing as always… only now with someone finally mirroring that light back.
Ao’s smile returned, a mischievous spark in her gaze.
“…And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll have a little brother. Or sister. Or two.”
Yeyasu chuckled. “Twins? Bold call.”
“I just want naming rights,” Ao grinned, folding her arms behind her head.
Above them, one final lantern floated higher than the rest—burning gold, then vanishing like a star.
From Suisen’s Point of View
Suisen stood at the edge of the spring garden, a little apart from the celebration.
The music had softened into something slow and warm. Lanterns drifted across the water, laughter echoing gently in the background.
“I’ve seen warriors win whole wars with less certainty than those two had walking down the aisle,” Opener murmured to Cannonline.
Cannonline folded her arms, studying the dance. “Their coordination’s slightly awkward… but the emotional sync is near-perfect. It suits them.”
Suisen tilted his head, catching the exchange. He glimpsed Ceefore trading quiet smiles with Nitra, while Sea Again and Benikage were already halfway through a sake bottle, cheering as if it were a championship fight. Higan was telling something to Pii-Chan.
His gaze returned to Fuji and Pirilika.
He hadn’t known what it would feel like—to see Fuji dancing awkwardly, smiling easily, choosing joy.
Beside him, someone who didn’t just support him, but walked beside him. Fought beside him. Called him out. Chose him anyway.
“Pretty good view,” Sea Again said, stepping up beside him. Benikage followed, while Sea Again offered Suisen a cup.
Suisen accepted. “It is.”
Sea Again sipped. “Thinking of crashing the dance floor?”
“Not my thing.”
Benikage tilted his head. “I think you’d be good at keeping up.”
Suisen didn’t answer. His eyes drifted toward Ao—still chatting with Yeyasu, laughing softly.
He didn’t smile. Not yet. But something in his chest eased.
“Maybe,” he said, “when I’ve figured out the next step.”
Sea Again hummed low. “You’ve come a long way from the Foreseen Magistrate you once were.”
“I’m not sure I ever really knew who that was,” Suisen admitted.
“You don’t have to,” Benikage said. “Not when you’re writing something new.”
They clinked cups.
The wind passed over the garden, stirring the lanterns and catching the edge of Suisen’s kimono sleeve.
It carried warmth, and a fragile, unspoken promise: what lay ahead might not be easy—but this time, it would be his.
Arc Two — Memory, Meaning & Bonds — End