"Please, step back to a safe place—and protect yourself. From here on… it's time I fulfill my word."
"Excuse me."
Clang!
Snowswept Sakura left its sheath with a sharp ring.
Whoosh!
With a single draw, a surge of icy sword energy burst forth like a raging beast, slicing through the ground and roaring toward the three ronin ahead!
Crash…
The frigid wind tore through the soil, freezing everything it touched solid.
"!" ×3
The three ronin staggered back in shock.
A Vision!
Only someone blessed by the gods could wield such power. The realization struck them instantly. They scrambled to roll aside, barely evading the razor-sharp frost.
"Heh…"
Ayaka's lips curved into a cold smile. Her icy-blue eyes gleamed like a predator's, tracking her prey's every move.
The three had split up—perfect for taking them down one by one. Of course, she would never allow the woman behind her to intervene. The Shogun's hands were not meant to be dirtied by such filth. Her own, however, she didn't mind.
"You… you have a Vision?!"
The ronin leader's voice trembled as he stumbled to his feet, clutching his blade.
Foolish…
She thought coldly, her breath misting with frost as her body radiated chilling energy.
Kamisato Art: Senho!
Splash—
Her figure vanished, dissolving into shimmering ice crystals that glided across the frozen ground, moving like drifting snow toward the ronin's flank at blinding speed.
"Wha—?!"
The man's eyes widened—he couldn't even follow her movement.
"!"
The Shogun, watching from behind, brought a hand to her lips in surprise. Perhaps it had been a mistake not to let Ayaka use her elemental power during their past sparring sessions… The ability to merge one's body with elemental energy—this was proof of true mastery.
This child… Ayaka, you've become so strong.
Crash…
Ayaka's form solidified again, her body low to the ground, sword poised in a sheathed stance.
Click—
Her thumb pressed against the tsuba, pushing the blade free.
Shing!
In less than a second, her sword flashed out.
Crack!
The ronin's chipped katana shattered instantly, fragments scattering like glinting shards beneath the sun—each reflecting the cold, beautiful face of the woman before him.
It all happened in slow motion. He never even had time to react.
Ayaka's sword flipped, striking the back of his ankle with precise force.
"Guh—ahhh!"
The crack of bone echoed as he dropped to his knees, screaming in pain.
With a graceful motion, Ayaka spun her blade and lifted it high—then brought it down cleanly across his neck.
Slice!
The cut was so fast, the air barely stirred before his head flew free. No blood spilled—the cold had sealed the wound shut.
Clack…
She didn't pause. Resheathing her sword, she sensed another rushing toward her from behind.
Tap…
With a flick of her wrist, she drew a folded fan from her sleeve, spinning elegantly before hurling it like a dart toward the incoming ronin.
"Ha! Parlor tricks! This thing looks expensive—I'll be keeping it for—"
Crash!
He froze mid-sentence, a look of confusion turning to horror. An icy chill spread rapidly from his hand up his arm—the fan had released freezing energy the moment he touched it. Within seconds, frostbite gnawed through his flesh, the cold stabbing deep into his organs.
"Ahhhh!!!"
He screamed, dropping the fan as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest.
Crack…
The fallen fan shattered into glittering ice dust, which Ayaka caught effortlessly as she reappeared beside him. Turning with fluid grace, she pressed the sharp end of the now-frozen fan beneath his trembling chin.
"Eek~!! P-please… miss…"
The ronin trembled, his chin lifted by the edge of Ayaka's fan, his face turning pale. A dark stain spread between his legs.
"M-Miss! Please—ahhhh!!"
The fan's tip pressed harder under his chin, flooding his body with piercing cold. The chill coursed through his veins, spreading agony beyond endurance.
"Do you still want it?" Ayaka asked coldly, her icy-blue eyes as lifeless as if she were staring at a corpse.
"N-no… I don't—"
"Oh? You don't want it~?" she asked softly, her tone almost teasing—like a demon toying with her prey.
Crack!
Blue veins spread visibly along the man's neck.
"Ahhh!! I-I want it!!"
"You do? Then I'll give it to you."
Shing~!
With a flick of her wrist, she opened the fan. Along its curved edge, glimmering shards of ice formed razor-sharp blades that gleamed under the sunlight.
Slash!
Without hesitation, she swept the fan across his throat in one smooth motion. As she passed by, blood burst forth in a crimson arc.
Tap, tap…
"Ahhhhhh!!!"
Before the echo of his scream faded, heavy footsteps and the sharp sound of steel drew near—it was the last ronin, charging recklessly from behind with his sword raised.
But before Ayaka could even turn—
Crack!
A deafening flash of thunder split the sky, a bolt of lightning crashing down directly onto the ronin's head.
Zzzt…
The stench of burning flesh filled the air, followed by the dull thud of a charred body collapsing to the ground.
Ayaka turned silently. What remained of the man was nothing but a smoldering corpse. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she covered her mouth with her fan and waved away the acrid scent before returning to the Shogun's side.
"Was I being unnecessary?" the Shogun asked lightly, a hint of teasing in her tone.
"How could that be? Your timely aid saved me," Ayaka replied with a gentle smile, hiding her lips behind her fan. She avoided calling her "Shogun-sama," as Kurisu was still nearby—frozen stiff with fear.
"Always be aware of your surroundings. Neglecting what's behind you is—" the Shogun began with a sigh.
"—a warrior's greatest fault~ Yes, Ayaka has heard that from you more times than she can count," she said playfully. Even if the Shogun hadn't acted, she would have countered—perhaps even used her new technique, Kamisato Art: Soumetsu.
Still… she was happy. The Shogun had acted instinctively—out of concern for her. That thought alone warmed her heart.
"Such a cheeky girl~" the Shogun murmured fondly, tapping Ayaka's nose with a fingertip, her tone soft and sisterly.
"Hehe…"
Ayaka tilted her head back slightly and smiled playfully in return.
"U-um… are you two unharmed?"
Kurisu, finally able to move after staring at the three corpses littering the ground, cautiously approached the two women.
Do we look hurt to you? the Shogun thought wryly to herself.
"There's no need to worry… we're fine," Ayaka answered politely.
"Y-you… you killed them?" Kurisu stammered nervously.
"Indeed. I originally intended to let them flee, but… I may have been a little too 'heavy-handed,'" Ayaka said calmly, glancing once at the three bloodied corpses without a hint of remorse.
Leaving such scum alive would only bring more harm to Inazuma—it was better this way.
"Y-yes…"
Kurisu stared at the three pitiful corpses, his face pale and conflicted. Blood still pooled beneath them, glistening wetly in the light. Heavy-handed? He swallowed hard. That wasn't 'heavy'—that was lethal!
"Ahem… it seems the three of them were too exhausted to make it through the forest. Which means, the goods you lost should all still be here," Ayaka said softly, coughing once to clear her throat. She gestured toward the three carts of silk nearby with her fan.
"Yes, yes! Thank you—thank you both so much!"
Kurisu clasped his hands together, bowing deeply to the two women before him. Tears welled in his eyes as relief finally replaced fear.
"Please, check your goods," Ayaka instructed, pointing gently toward the carts. She wanted to be sure the silks were intact—after all, the quality mattered.
"Of course!"
Kurisu scampered forward, moving between the three carts with surprising agility for a man his age. His eyes darted back and forth, lips moving quickly as he counted the rolls of silk.
The Shogun and Ayaka stood quietly nearby, watching him without comment.
"Six… eight… ten… Yes! That's right!" he exclaimed a minute later, turning to them with visible delight. "Everything's here!"
"Good." The Shogun nodded slightly, then looked at him with calm dignity. "In that case… would you be willing to sell these silks to us?"
"Eh? Sell them? You mean… you two came here because you wanted to buy my silks?!"
The realization hit him all at once—so that was it! Everything made perfect sense now. Kurisu's face lit up with sudden understanding.
"To be honest, yes," Ayaka admitted, touching her lips with her folded fan in slight embarrassment. "Were it not for the silks, we wouldn't have sought out the International Trade Association in the first place. It's a fortunate coincidence."
"My most sincere thanks to both of you!" Kurisu said, bowing again. Even if they'd had another motive, he couldn't fault them—they had still saved his life. To him, they were saviors regardless.
"Well then, no need for words—what you need are silks, right? Let me pick out the finest one for you!"
He immediately turned around and began inspecting the carts once more. The two women watched quietly. Though Ayaka understood something about fabrics, she knew better than to interrupt an expert at his craft.
The Shogun, of course, said nothing—she had only come to accompany Ayaka today. If possible, she preferred to speak as little as necessary.
"Thank you for your trouble. How much will it be in total?" Ayaka asked, folding her fan and preparing to take out her purse.
"Ah, my ladies—how could I possibly take your money? You are my benefactors! Please, accept it as a gift!" Kurisu declared firmly, pounding his fist against his chest.
"No, that will not do. The price must be fair," Ayaka replied, sighing softly and shaking her head. She placed a modest amount of Mora in her palm.
"Come now… after all you've done for me, how could I not show my gratitude?" Kurisu said earnestly, turning back to face them.
"That's not what I mean," Ayaka countered gently. "Merchants have their hardships too. We have no right to take advantage of you. Please, sell these at their proper value."
"Ah, Lady Kamisato… I understand what you mean, but listen—if not for you two, the International Trade Association might have been finished! You saved our reputation, and my livelihood!"
He wiped the corner of his eye with his sleeve. "And this other lady here—she stood up for us when no one else would! If I don't express my gratitude now, what kind of man would I be?"
"Mr. Kurisu…" Ayaka began softly.
"Enough! If you insist on paying, that would mean you look down on me!" he said, crossing his arms, his voice full of unyielding pride.
"This…" Ayaka hesitated, lowering her gaze.
"In that case," the Shogun said decisively, "we shall accept."
"Ha! That's better. Please, just let me do this much."
"Shogun-sama…" Ayaka whispered in a voice only she could hear.
The Shogun gave her a slight shake of the head in quiet refusal.
"…Very well."
Ayaka no longer argued. If the Shogun herself had spoken, she could only yield.
"Since it's Mr. Kurisu's sincere gesture, we will accept it gratefully," The Shogun broke Ayaka's silence, her serene and gentle voice answering in her stead.
"Very well. Here—this is the finest silk," said Kurisu, handing over a bolt of shimmering fabric.
The Shogun stepped forward and caught it gracefully in her arms—it was quite large, yet she held it effortlessly with one hand. Ayaka had intended to take it herself but, seeing the scene, quietly withdrew her hand and instead turned her gaze back toward Kurisu.
"Mr. Kurisu, please do not forget our agreement. Nothing that occurred here today ever happened."
With a flick of her fan, Ayaka froze the three corpses solid. A moment later, the ice shattered, scattering into countless sparkling fragments that vanished into the wind—leaving no trace behind.
"U-understood… please rest assured," Kurisu stammered, his whole body trembling at the sight.
...
After parting ways with Kurisu, the two walked along the beach road, passing through Konda Village before returning to the bustling streets of Hanamizaka.
It was around four in the afternoon. The once-crowded market street had calmed considerably, and the flow of pedestrians had thinned, leaving only a few lingering shoppers.
The Shogun walked beside the young woman, carrying the bolt of silk in her arms as they made their way leisurely through the street—their destination, naturally, was the Ogura Textiles & Kimonos shop.
Seeing her burden, Ayaka folded her fan and extended a hand. "Shogun-sama, please, allow me to carry it."
"That will not do. To others, you are the White Heron Princess, and I… merely your companion. In terms of appearance, it is more fitting that I carry it," the Shogun replied softly but firmly.
"Shogun-sama, please don't trouble yourself on my behalf. I can handle such a small task." Ayaka's tone carried a touch of concern.
"This is no trouble at all. While walking among the people, one must learn to act as they do. Finding enjoyment in such simplicity… is its own kind of pleasure, is it not?"
"…Understood."
Ayaka sighed in defeat. She knew better than to argue once the Shogun had decided on something. She simply matched her pace, walking quietly beside her.
"...Ayaka."
"Hmm? Shogun-sama?" she turned, meeting those deep violet eyes.
"Why did you help him? Was it only for the silk?"
"…"
Ayaka lowered her gaze in thought, then slowly lifted her eyes again. The clear frost of her irises shimmered with quiet complexity.
"I merely did what anyone else would have done."
The Shogun said nothing, her expression unreadable.
"From my position, yes, it may have seemed strange to intervene. But this has nothing to do with status or rank… I simply acted as myself—to help someone in need."
Her gaze drifted to the silk in the Shogun's hands. She reached out to brush the soft, smooth fabric—it didn't even feel like cloth, but like flowing water.
"I think… perhaps it's because, deep down, I don't believe a society that ignores the struggles of its people can truly be called 'right.'"
Tap, tap…
"?"
Before she could react, the violet-haired woman stepped closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You've grown, Ayaka," she murmured softly. "In both mind and heart."
"…In front of you, Shogun-sama, I will always be a child," Ayaka whispered, her voice tender. She reached up, clasping the Shogun's hand against her cheek, unwilling to let go.
Yes… she would always be a child. Even if she grew old and her hair turned white, the woman before her would remain eternally youthful.
A hundred years might seem long for her—but for the Shogun, it was only a fleeting moment. That was why she cherished every second she could spend by her side.