The day was bright, bright and fair, yet the sun seemed determined to hide behind its own humility. The capital went about its rhythm with that quiet elegance it wore like a crown. Streets buzzed with polite motion; shopkeepers nodded as they passed, carriages rolled softly on cobblestone, and the world seemed to exhale in steady, careful breaths.
Our ride back to the hotel was almost silent. Miss Halle sat over me, gazing at the passing city, her expression unreadable. She had not asked about the meeting. I wasn't sure if it was indifference, foresight, or something stranger hiding behind her quiet.
When we arrived, Victoria had already returned from her visit to Miss Mary's. Lunch unfolded casually. Victoria went first, babbling about the snacks she had tried, the experiments she hoped to attempt with Miss Mary, and the mysteries she had yet to reveal. When I pressed her—mid-chew of mutton—she only grinned, teasing, "It's a secret. I'll show you when I know I can pull it off."
Miss Lakshmi paused, lifted a sip of water, and turned that calm, sharp gaze on me. "And you? Were you able to speak with the Prime Minister, as you hoped?"
I took a breath, a sip of fruit juice, and recounted the meeting. "Hmm. I see," she murmured. Victoria drifted somewhere far away in her thoughts, as if quietly rebalancing the universe.
After lunch, the group scattered. Victoria lingered in Miss Lakshmi's room with Miss Halle, laughing and plotting. I returned to the room I shared with Victoria, the door closing on my own simmering thoughts. Rage churned quietly inside me. I tilted my chair back, closed my eyes, and drew in a slow, measured breath.
The world inside me went still. I focused on the sound of my own heart, shelving the words of the Prime Minister and the feeling of failure.
---
Meanwhile, in a realm untouched by human hand and far beyond the reach of mortal mind, in a realm untouched by time, two deities held council.
Sol stepped and stood over iridescent still water under star-lit heaven, light humming faintly from their skin. Across from them, the fox-like figure circled, multiple tails swaying behind them — each tail like a separate thought drifting in the air.
"It took this war to find you," Sol said, voice calm and precise. "You've been hidden for quite some time. I do not usually find interest in much of mortals' game but this was rather worth it," they said squatting down to poke at the still water.
The fox's ears flicked, its multiple tails, which had been swaying like separate thoughts of waves of an ocean in moonlight, stilled. "And who might you be?"
Sol tilted their head, amused — almost indulgent.
"Ra? No… Amaterasu-Ōmikami? Hmm, those usually ring a bell."
The fox blinked, clearly lost.
"Ra? Amaterasu?"
"Names," Sol said with a soft, sunlit laugh, "are masks mortals sew onto us. Legends woven over legends. Call me Sol, if you prefer something simple."
A quiet tension settled — the kind found in conversations where only one party remembers the history.
"You want this war to stop," Sol continued, stepping lightly around the fox. "But meddling directly would only worsen things, yes?"
The fox gave a reluctant nod.
Sol paused, then smiled — bright, warm, and almost too kind.
"Then do something for me," they said, voice dipping slightly, gaining weight. "Do this one thing, and I will see what I can do about the rest."
The fox's tails stilled all at once.
"And what," they asked, careful as a trembling bowstring, "would you have me do?"
Sol brushed a glimmering strand of hair back behind their ear, as if discussing nothing more serious than the weather.
"Stop playing at mortality," they said softly. "Return to what you were. Stand as a that again, a god— openly, fully, unmistakably."
The water at their feet rippled, reacting as though it understood the cost.
Sol leaned closer, light sharpening like a blade hidden inside warmth.
"Do that," they murmured, "and I will help you untangle your troubles. Your war. The threads you can't see."
A pause followed.
Ancient. Binding.
A promise shaped like a bargain.
A price shaped like a return.
Starlight shivered. Even night hesitated to breathe. The bargain was struck and the nature of the conflict was fundamentally changed. Even the stars in the heavens underneath the water blinked in surprise at the presence of the rising sun and the water looked back in interest rippling in interest.
---
Back in the hotel room, Heiwa's eyes opened to the familiar ceiling above her. She did not know why, but the feeling of failure had been replaced by a quiet heat—a whisper of possibility.
The world outside remained unchanged. Streets were tidy, shopkeepers still bowed, and the sun kept its polite distance. But something in the air felt different — a faint shift, a quiet heat, a whisper that the cold, rigid capital was beginning to blush at the edges.
Possibility.
I sat up slowly, letting that feeling settle.
I needed to write to Father — but first, I needed to speak with Miss Lakshmi.
Below, the city waited immaculate and unshaken in its ideals.
But behind its perfect exterior, unseen gears had begun to turn.
---