Shopping, well—it was just that.
Walking, stopping, eating, drinking.
But when you're walking side by side with someone you like, even wandering aimlessly never feels boring. Every step is filled with laughter and warmth.
Kiana held the freshly printed photo in her hands, unable to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She lifted it high and said proudly, "When I get back, I'm going to find a nice frame for this, put it right beside my bed—so it's the first thing I see every morning!"
"Ah?"
Mei also held her own copy of the photo, just as satisfied with how it turned out. She planned to keep it carefully once she got home.
But what Kiana just said…
Putting the photo next to her bed, so it's the first thing she sees when she wakes up every day?
"Wouldn't that be a little…"
Her cheeks began to grow warm. She wanted to ask Kiana to clarify, but Kiana always said things that made people overthink.
"You'll do that too, right, Mei?"
Wait—she's serious?
Mei felt her face heat up even more. Wasn't that something only couples or family members did?
Waking up to see a photo of herself and Kiana every morning… well, when she thought about it seriously, it didn't sound so bad. Even if it was just a photo—seeing Kiana's smile would surely lighten her mood.
"I'll keep it safe."
Another step forward today!
Kiana's grin widened. She carefully tucked the photo away, just about to say something more to Mei when, suddenly, thunder rumbled across the perpetually gray sky.
The roar was deafening, drowning out all other sounds. Blue and violet flashes pulsed within the clouds, painting the sky in ominous light.
The thunder didn't stop after one strike—it kept echoing, again and again, as though a god of lightning had been enraged.
"Mei?!"
The thunder was so loud it hurt her ears. Kiana winced, covering one side of her head. Around them, people on the street did the same, grimacing in pain. Only Mei stood still, staring blankly toward the flashing horizon.
Kiana's voice was swallowed by the thunder. In panic, she shook Mei's shoulders, snapping her out of her daze.
Mei blinked, her expression distant, unreadable. Kiana's worry deepened—was this really just a thunderstorm? Or… something else?
Mei seemed to say something, but Kiana couldn't hear her at all. Mei frowned, gesturing toward the people nearby who were still covering their ears.
They couldn't hear anything.
Mei pressed her lips together, then looked back up at the lightning-filled sky, deep in thought.
Kiana had no idea what was going through her mind—but after several seconds, Mei suddenly grabbed Kiana's hand and started running toward the direction of the shrine without explanation.
Something's wrong.
Judging from Mei's expression, this was not a good sign. Kiana followed without hesitation, keeping pace easily.
She could feel Mei's grip—tight and trembling. Her heart was restless.
Was it because of the thunder?
But why?
Kiana regretted not learning more about this world over the past few months. If she had, maybe she wouldn't be so confused now, trying to guess blindly.
That feeling…
It couldn't be wrong.
The moment Mei heard and saw the lightning, she sensed that something was off. That wasn't a natural thunderstorm. And more than that—there was something familiar about the lightning.
Familiar… but why?
Clenching her teeth, Mei ran faster toward the shrine. She had to confirm her suspicion.
The thunder lasted for a long time, but eventually, it began to fade—not stopping, but rather, moving away, shifting to another area.
Rubbing her ringing ears, Kiana asked worriedly, "Mei, what's going on?"
"I'm sorry, Kiana. I have to return to the shrine immediately." Mei finally released her hand.
"I'll go with you!"
"…Alright."
Truthfully, Mei wanted her there. That was why she had instinctively held Kiana's hand so tightly before.
They ran across several streets before finally reaching the shrine's grounds. Without a word, Mei rushed inside, heading straight toward the main hall where Narukami was enshrined.
When Mei finally rushed back to the main hall, desperate to confirm her fear, her pupils shrank the instant she saw the empty altar before her.
Narukami… was gone.
"Wait—Narukami… it's missing?!"
Kiana, who had followed behind her all the way, froze in shock at the sight of the vacant altar. She had seen the Narukami before—after all, she had spent so much time pestering Mei at the shrine.
That blade, Narukami, had been enshrined and passed down in Mei's family for centuries… and now it had vanished?
Stolen?!
While staring at the empty altar, Mei instead grew calm. Her gaze fixed on the sword stand that had once held Narukami, and she slowly stepped forward.
Kiana stood anxiously to the side.
Was it her fault? Because she had asked Mei out today, did that give the thief a chance to strike?
Her heart sank. Anger at the thief, guilt toward Mei, frustration with herself—all of it tangled together.
"I'll go look around! Maybe the thief hasn't gone far yet!"
Thinking that the culprit might still be nearby, Kiana turned and dashed out before Mei could even respond.
The thief…
Mei's mind was a mess. She didn't call out to stop Kiana—whoever took the sword would never linger here. And with Kiana's skills, she could handle herself if she ran into ordinary people.
Stepping up to the altar, Mei began searching for any possible clues. At the base of the shrine, she noticed a small, inconspicuous envelope.
Reaching out, she picked it up. The moment her eyes met the handwriting on it, her breath caught—her chest tightening.
"…So it really was you, Father."
Her grip on the envelope trembled. She hadn't expected that her father had been near the shrine all this time.
Perhaps Narukami hadn't been stolen at all.
The shrine was closed to visitors today. She had only come to the main hall once that morning—so her father must have taken Narukami right after she left.
With trembling hands, she opened the letter. The contents were brief—no words of concern, no explanation of where he had gone, nor why he had taken Narukami. Only cold, detached instructions.
Do not seek him.
Do not ask where he went or what he intends to do.
As his daughter, her only duty was to guard the shrine.
Her emotions were impossible to describe.
For as long as she could remember, her father had been strict, distant, and unyielding. Her mother had passed away when she was very young. Her first lessons in swordsmanship came from her father—he had taught her Hokushin Ittō-ryū when she was still a child. Yet, even as he raised her, he would often send her to stay with others, leaving alone for months at a time to challenge dojos across the land.
Each time he returned, his face bore no warmth or joy. In her memory, her father had always been silent and severe.
Because they spent so little time together, she had long harbored resentment toward him. Before his disappearance, their relationship had never been close.
And yet, no matter what, he was still her father. Deep down, Mei had always believed he simply didn't know how to express his feelings—that he did love her, in his own way.
But this letter…
Tears slid down her cheeks, dripping onto the paper in her trembling hands.
"Why? Why did you come back, only to leave again without seeing me… without even saying goodbye?"