"The art of the sword is the tangible form of one's dignity."
With light, measured steps, Ayaka advanced several meters across the hall until she stood opposite the Shogun. Her delicate hand rested upon the hilt of her blade.
"It is the manifestation of one's sharpened will."
Click!
With a slight push of her thumb against the guard, her Snowswept Sakura slid from its sheath, the faint cherry-pink edge of the blade glinting in the light.
"The one who wields the blade… must have a heart sincere and calm."
Beneath the short hem of her kimono, her legs—wrapped in white stockings—crossed slightly, her foot stepping forward in a poised stance.
"When the blade is drawn—"
Zzzzt…
In the next instant, Snowswept Sakura was fully unsheathed, its clear metallic song filling the air.
"—it must strike swift as lightning, and cold as ice."
Swish!
The cherry-colored blade cut gracefully through the air, leaving behind a cool streak of wind. The shimmer of its edge reflected in her icy-blue eyes, harmonizing in beauty and sharpness alike.
She held her blade horizontally before her, aligning the keen light of its edge with her own gaze. The moment her eyes lifted again, the gentle charm she'd worn before was gone—replaced by a chilling, focused resolve. Yet, beneath that cold intensity, there lingered a faint smile.
"At the pinnacle of swordsmanship, a single strike decides victory. Even a mere swing, when mastered, is unstoppable."
"These were my mother's words. Shogun-sama—do you find them true?"
She asked calmly, maintaining her posture.
"They are indeed true. It seems you've already grasped their essence well."
Swish!
"When the blade falls… it moves as swiftly as light, as fleeting as shadow."
The Shogun brushed her slender fingers across the shining steel of her own sword, assuming a matching stance. Her tone grew colder, her presence focused.
"The usual rules—victory by technique alone. No elemental power. Agreed?"
Her violet gaze met Ayaka's as she spoke.
"Agreed."
Ayaka's answer was short and steady.
The Shogun's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression calm yet serious. Across from her, Ayaka's blue eyes mirrored the same concentration.
"Eternity Art — Raiden Shogun… taking the field."
"Kamisato Art — Kamisato Ayaka… taking the field."
The Shogun's steps shifted—soft, deliberate—as her bare feet pressed lightly upon the tatami, circling clockwise. Ayaka mirrored her movements. The air between them seemed to thicken, freezing in anticipation, as if time itself held its breath.
Whoosh…
Chime~
The soft ring of a wind chime at the window broke the silence, the faint breeze carrying its clear tone—and with it, the signal to begin.
"..." ×2
At that sound, both women shared a fleeting, radiant smile—and then—
Swish! ×2
They vanished from sight.
Clang!
A heartbeat later, the clash of steel resounded through the room.
Crack…!
The air swelled with sudden force, the sound of the wind chime now drowned beneath the rising rush of air.
Swish! ×N
Clang! ×N
The hall filled with streaks of flashing steel—violet and pink intertwining in a flurry of movement. Sparks flared where their blades met, scattering like starlight.
The Shogun stepped forward, cutting diagonally toward Ayaka.
Clang!
Ayaka blocked the strike effortlessly, countering with her own.
Swish!
The Shogun tilted her body, dodging to the side. The rush of wind from Ayaka's swing lifted strands of the Shogun's violet hair, carrying her soft, electrifying scent. Ayaka caught the fragrance and smiled faintly before pressing her assault.
Clang!
Her blade struck again—only to meet the Shogun's defense head-on.
Their faces were now mere inches apart, close enough to feel each other's breath, close enough for the faint fragrance of their perfume to blend.
"Shogun-sama's scent is as enchanting as ever," Ayaka teased with a smile.
"...You're far too cheeky," the Shogun murmured, her violet eyes flashing with a rare hint of bashfulness.
With a gentle flick, she parried Ayaka's blade, spun lightly on her heel, and in one elegant motion, swung Mistsplitter Reforged toward Ayaka's waist.
"Hah…"
Ayaka exhaled softly, her stance shifting as she reversed her grip on Snowswept Sakura, bringing it down vertically to guard her side.
Clang!
The sharp resonance of steel filled every corner of the hall.
"..."
Her hand tingled faintly from the impact. Shogun-sama… she's holding back, isn't she? She doesn't want to hurt me.
Ayaka sighed inwardly, feeling a quiet warmth amid the tension.
Zzzzt…
Following the motion, she turned her body and unleashed a horizontal slash outward.
Clang!
The Shogun blocked the strike, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. With precise control, she guided the tip of Mistsplitter Reforged along the surface of Ayaka's Snowswept Sakura, the two blades scraping together until her edge pressed dangerously close to Ayaka's tsuba.
Seeing this, Ayaka quickly stepped back, her feet moving gracefully as she absorbed the force of the Shogun's strike. Each retreating step lessened the pressure of the opposing blade. The Shogun pressed forward, Ayaka withdrew—their movements seamless and fluid, advancing and retreating in a perfect rhythm.
However…
As Ayaka took one more step back—perhaps due to her intense focus—her heel accidentally caught the leg of the low writing table behind her. Her balance faltered, her body tipping backward, about to fall.
"!"
Her eyes widened in alarm as her body tilted back, unable to stop herself from falling toward the table—but—
"Dangerous."
Thud…
In the very next instant, a firm arm encircled her slender waist, pulling her back upright. The Shogun had caught her just in time, drawing her safely into her embrace.
"!"
Ayaka froze, her face instantly flushing pink. The warmth of the Shogun's touch, the faint scent of her kimono—it was all too familiar. For a fleeting second, she wanted to stay there, wrapped in that security… but the duel wasn't over. Regaining her composure, she gently stepped back to create distance.
"Thank you for saving me, Shogun-sama."
She smiled shyly, her embarrassment softening into gratitude as she tightened her grip on her blade and resumed her stance.
"Haa… mind your footing," the Shogun said quietly, exhaling softly. Her tone was gentle, yet edged with the authority of a seasoned warrior. "Focusing only ahead and neglecting your surroundings is a grave error for any swordswoman. Had I not intervened, your back would have been injured."
"Hehe… Ayaka understands."
Ayaka's smile deepened. This is why I admire her so… so steadfast, so dependable.
She adjusted her position slightly, ensuring her footing was stable before circling the room once more with the Shogun, their movements deliberate and mirrored.
"Shogun-sama," Ayaka said suddenly, "would you consider fighting at full strength?"
"…No. If you were to be hurt, I would blame myself."
Her voice was calm but firm. The Shogun's strength was immense—too much, perhaps, for even Ayaka to withstand fully.
"Hmm… that's truly a pity then. In that case, I'll have to take this more seriously."
Ayaka's tone was playful but resolute.
"Come, then."
The Shogun's reply came instantly, steady and sure. She wanted to see just how far this girl had come in the past two years.
"Please grant me your guidance, Shogun-sama."
At those words, a glint of cold steel flashed in Ayaka's eyes. The next second, her form vanished.
She appeared right beside the Shogun, drawing her blade in a swift motion aimed toward her neck—using the back of her sword.
"!"
The Shogun was genuinely startled. Reacting on instinct, she moved at lightning speed—literally. Her body became a flash of violet light as she used her elemental power to reposition herself across the room, materializing again in an instant.
And then—she realized what she'd done.
"Pfft… hehe."
Ayaka couldn't hold back her laughter. Her melodic giggle filled the air like the soft chime of bells.
"To think I could make Shogun-sama resort to elemental power… it seems my two years of training have not been in vain."
Turning toward her with a radiant smile, the young lady of the Kamisato Clan met her gaze—her beauty as dazzling as her blade.
"Ahem… I see now. So this was your intention all along… I understand."
She cleared her throat awkwardly, subtly using a lock of her hair to cover her slightly flushed ear. Then, regaining composure, she raised Mistsplitter Reforged once more. Since her opponent was showing such sincerity, she would respond in kind.
"Swords have no eyes, Ayaka. Be careful not to get hurt."
"Then come at me~"
Ayaka shot back with a teasing grin, deliberately echoing the Shogun's earlier words.
"Heh…"
A faint smile curved the Shogun's lips. The next instant, she stepped forward—swift as lightning—and unleashed a flurry of rapid strikes, single-handedly wielding her blade.
Swish! ×N
The silver flashes of her blade sliced through the air, so close that the wind stirred Ayaka's bangs. Yet the young woman showed no sign of fear—only calm determination. Her icy-blue eyes tracked each stroke, and then—
Clang! ×N
She met every strike with perfect timing, her own blade countering each blow precisely. The weight of her defense was firm and controlled; compared to two years ago, her growth was astounding—like night and day.
Clang!
Both combatants pushed off each other's blades and instinctively retreated a step, only to advance again in perfect sync.
This time, Ayaka took the offensive.
The Kamisato Art of swordsmanship emphasized precision, poise, and lethality—delicate yet unyielding, like the frost that freezes all it touches. Her mother and the Shogun herself had once taught her its essence. Being gifted by nature, Ayaka had internalized every lesson. Now, she would display the fruits of two years of discipline.
Their blades clashed again and again, movements intertwining like twin dragons of silver light.
Clang! ×N
While defending against Ayaka's fierce assault, the Shogun felt a quiet sense of pride. She's grown so much… No longer that little girl who clung to me, pouting for attention.
Clang!
Their swords locked once more, pressing against each other with a resonant hum. Their faces drew near again, so close their breaths mingled.
Then—Ayaka's eyes glimmered with mischief. Her free hand slipped from her sleeve, and with a subtle flick, she produced her signature folding fan. Catching the handle deftly, she aimed the fan's edge toward the Shogun's side.
Snap!
Of course, the Shogun had already noticed. With a mere downward glance, she lifted two fingers and caught the fan's tip between them, pinching it in place effortlessly.
"Only swordsmanship, was it? Does a fan count as a sword~?"
Her tone was playful, her violet eyes gleaming with amusement.
"…If used well, anything can be a sword."
Ayaka smiled knowingly, her response both clever and cheeky.
"Such a glib tongue~"
The Shogun said fondly, then flicked her fingers.
Snap!
The fan sprang open as their blades separated once more. Ayaka spun, sheathing her sword halfway before slashing again—her free hand sending the open fan flying toward the Shogun's face like a thrown dagger.
Snap…
The Shogun raised her hand and blocked it with the back of her palm.
And so began a duel of hands rather than blades. The two women moved gracefully, palms meeting and parting as they wrestled for control of the fan. It danced between them like a silver butterfly, sliding back and forth between their elegant hands. The fan would open, then close, each motion concealing and revealing their faces in flashes of movement.
After several moments of this graceful struggle—
The Shogun finally gained the upper hand. With a twist of her wrist, she took hold of Ayaka's fan, spun around, and flicked it back toward her opponent like a boomerang.
"!"
Ayaka's brows furrowed slightly as she stepped back, raising her fingers to catch the spinning fan. Her movements were fluid and elegant; she turned gracefully on her heel, redirecting its momentum before reclaiming it in her hand. Hiding a smile behind its edge, she let the fan half-conceal her face once more.
At some point, their duel had become less about swordsmanship and more about play—a graceful dance between rivals and friends.
Clang!
Their blades met again. Perhaps inspired by Ayaka's earlier trick, the Shogun decided to toy with her in return. Her violet gaze lowered briefly, focusing on Ayaka's stance—on the delicate white-stockinged feet that supported her body. Her toes curled ever so slightly against the tatami, like a kitten poised to pounce.
The Shogun shifted her stance with a sudden flash of movement, causing Ayaka's eyes to widen slightly. In that instant, the Shogun moved to her side—her motion quick and seamless. Ayaka, alert and ready, raised her hand to counter, but the Shogun's sharp eyes had already spotted her right foot and made a subtle move.
Tap…
With a deft flick of her toe, the Shogun brushed against Ayaka's ankle, disrupting her balance. Ayaka's body tilted to the side, her footing faltering.
"Ah~!"
Ayaka let out a startled yet adorable cry. Her reflexes, however, were sharp enough to keep her from falling completely—she thrust her blade into the tatami, using it to stabilize herself. Even so, her lower body had already collapsed to the floor, leaving her half-kneeling, half-fallen.
The Shogun watched this with quiet amusement, suppressing a chuckle. She stepped back a few paces, giving Ayaka space to recover. She had no intention of pressing her advantage—it had merely been a playful tease.
"Haa… Shogun-sama… only~ sword~smanship~," Ayaka murmured, her cheeks tinged pink, puffing them slightly in mock protest.
"A well-used leg… is also a blade."
The Shogun's reply was calm but mischievous.
"Pfft… fair enough."
Ayaka laughed softly, understanding her meaning. So she's still the same as ever—playful at heart, no matter how composed she seems.
"Final round…"
"One strike decides it?"
They spoke almost in unison.
"Indeed."
Both already knew exactly how this would end.
Click! ×2
Simultaneously, the two women sheathed their blades in one smooth motion. The Shogun lowered her stance slightly, knees bent, her sheath positioned firmly at her waist. Ayaka, meanwhile, knelt on one knee, her body turned slightly sideways as she returned her sword to its scabbard.
In that moment, the sound of steel sliding into wood filled the room—two distinct tones, clear and resonant.
"Eternity Art…"
"Kamisato Art…"
Their eyes snapped open at the same instant—cold, sharp, unwavering.
"Severance of Shadow."
"Moonlit Water Reflection."
Shing!!
Both drew their blades in perfect unison, releasing twin slashes that filled the entire room with blinding light. The two arcs of sword energy collided midair, intertwining like a burst of lightning and frost. The impact sent wind surging through the chamber, the sliding screens rattling, the chime by the window ringing in wild harmony. Their garments and hair were caught in the flowing current, dancing in the storm of their clash.
When the light faded, the Shogun moved first—a flash of violet cutting through the air as she dashed toward Ayaka. Her blade came down in a clean arc toward the girl's neck.
"!"
Ayaka's adrenaline surged. Instinctively, she stepped back, raising her blade just in time to intercept.
Whoosh!!
Then—silence. Only the whisper of dawn's breeze drifted through the room, accompanied by the faint chime… chime of the wind bells.
At that moment, both froze in their final stances.
Ayaka's back was pressed against the wall, the Shogun's blade hovering just a centimeter from her neck—the blunt edge of Mistsplitter Reforged glinting softly in the dim light. The younger woman could not move, her breath catching as she met the Shogun's eyes.
But she had not lost.
The Shogun's gaze lowered slightly—only to see Snowswept Sakura's tip, poised an equal centimeter from her own throat. The two women stood locked in place, neither yielding, neither afraid. Their expressions remained calm and composed, cold yet serene.
After several tense seconds, it was the Shogun who first relaxed.
"Haa… you've grown, Ayaka."
The faintest smile crossed her lips. Truly, one must look anew upon those who have changed.
Lowering her blade, she spoke with quiet pride, "You've done well."
"Haa… thank you, Shogun-sama. It was only what I should do."
Those words alone made Ayaka's years of training worthwhile. To receive her acknowledgment—even if she knew the Shogun had held back—was reward enough. A true contest of strength against the Shogun, after all, would allow no equal.
Click.
She returned Snowswept Sakura to its sheath, the faint sound of steel vanishing beneath the fabric of her kimono. Her bare shoulders disappeared once more beneath her collar as she looked up—her cool blue eyes softening into liquid warmth.
Click…
The Shogun, too, sheathed Mistsplitter Reforged, setting it gently back onto the sword rack. But as she straightened her posture—
She felt warmth press against her back.
"Ayaka?"
She turned slightly, her hand brushing against the pair of delicate arms that now encircled her waist. Her voice softened.
"It's been two years… I've missed you dearly."
From behind, Ayaka held her tightly, resting her cheek against the Shogun's neck. Her voice trembled faintly, her body quivering as though she feared something—or perhaps, feared nothing more than this moment ending.
The Shogun hesitated. She's grown now… this kind of closeness… is it proper? But as she looked at the trembling girl before her, her heart softened.
She's still that same child, no matter how much time passes.
With a gentle sigh, she turned and wrapped her arms around Ayaka, pulling her into a warm embrace, one hand tenderly brushing the girl's hair.
"It's alright now… don't be afraid."
Her tone was soft, almost motherly. From this closeness, she could clearly smell the faint fragrance of Ayaka's hair—light, soothing, familiar.
"Mm…"
Ayaka smiled faintly, hiding her blushing face against the Shogun's chest, savoring the warmth she had long yearned for over two years.
After a few quiet seconds, she reluctantly released her hold. She was no longer the little girl who always sought comfort in the Shogun's arms. Yet that feeling of love—pure, unwavering—remained unchanged.
The Shogun's visit had fulfilled two years of longing. The tenderness she'd shown was more than enough to make Ayaka's heart content.