Night fell heavily over Inazuma, the streets bathed in shadows, the lanterns flickering under the breath of a restless wind. Thunder had not yet cracked the sky, but something deeper than weather stirred—an unseen weight pressing down from above.
Within the Kamisato Estate, Ji Bai sat alone in a quiet study, brush in hand, yet unmoving. Before him lay a clean sheet of rice paper. The ink in the stone had been ground smooth, the tools were ready, but his hand refused to move.
Because he was not alone.
He felt it—not with his eyes or ears, but with something else. A pressure. A gaze. Not from behind the walls or outside the door. It came from the sky, or from something higher than the sky. Something godlike.
A soft tension pulled at the space around him, like a string stretched taut in the air. Ji Bai closed his eyes and tried to focus, but the sensation only grew stronger. He inhaled, tasted the familiar scent of ink and wood, and exhaled slow.
Still there.
He dipped the brush, brought it gently to the page—and flinched.
The brush wavered.
Not from his hand.
From interference.
A jolt of violet static sparked across the surface of the paper and vanished like a whisper. His eyes narrowed.
"She's watching," he muttered.
Raiden Shogun.
He had sensed her attention the moment he painted her likeness in the street that rainy night. But now, it wasn't just attention—it was presence. Silent, intangible, but undeniable. He could feel the weight of it in his bones.
She hadn't confronted him directly. Not yet. Instead, she had sent watchers, her will moving through shadows, her silence louder than any command.
And now, through his brush, she was testing him.
Ji Bai steadied his breathing and tried again. This time, as he traced the outline of a cloud, a shiver ran down his arm. The line twisted—slightly—but enough to ruin the flow.
He stared at it, lips pressed into a line.
"You interfere with my painting now?"
The air did not answer, but the silence seemed heavier.
A knock came at the door.
"Ji Bai-san." Thoma's voice. Calm, as always.
Ji Bai stood and opened the door. Thoma bowed politely but didn't smile.
"The Grand Narukami Shrine has sent a message," he said. "Lady Yae requests your presence."
Ji Bai didn't speak.
Thoma continued, "The Shogun is also aware. She has not made a formal summons, but her attention is... focused."
Ji Bai turned back into the room and rolled up the paper. Even as he did, a faint shimmer of lightning crawled across it. The spark clung to the fibers before vanishing.
"She's sent watchers," Ji Bai said as he stepped into the hall.
"Yes," Thoma said. "She didn't try to hide it."
"What does she want?"
"To know if your power is a blessing—or a threat. If your will aligns with the peace of Inazuma… or disturbs it."
Ji Bai nodded slowly. "So this is a test."
"A quiet one."
They walked through the estate. At the gate, Kamisato Ayaka stood waiting, her silhouette calm in the lantern light. Her eyes met Ji Bai's, and though she said nothing, her presence alone calmed the storm within him.
The three of them stepped into the night.
Above them, the clouds churned—but did not speak.
The city slept, unaware that a god watched one man from the heavens—not to punish, but to judge.
Ji Bai walked on, one thought in his mind:
This is not the end. This is only the beginning of her gaze.