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Makoto lost a lot of time in those early days, the taste of victory soured upon finding her sister gone. Only her naginata remained behind, the sole physical trace of Ei that Makoto could find… An insufficient comfort in the wake of dawn on her new reign, where she is all alone with a familiar blade she doesn't know how to wield.
Strange, then, that her grief is subsumed into a rare smoldering anger:
Don't you dare leave me alone , Makoto thinks, before she orders their— her— comrades away. Makoto waits for Kitsune Saiguu's back to fully disappear over the horizon before she returns back to the platform.
There is a body on the raised dias. It is not moving. It could not move. The body is only shaped as a body; the body is nobody's yet.
For the body to no longer be an empty shell, for the body to belong to someone precious, that is the whole purpose of her foolish pleas and offering.
I don't know how to be alone. I would not be here without you. Ei, it is not your time, and I will not give you up.
Some time passes.
Makato renews her prayer, bending her newly-crowned-Archon neck to the Powers that govern realms behind her purview, those of life, death, time, and void. She only needs one to cast their lonely gaze upon her in pity and, perhaps, surely, do the unthinkable. She asks but once for a favor bestowed. She begs so that happiness may return to her life. She prays that she may not be left alone in this future that was always meant to be shared together.
We, who have always been of one heart and soul, were always meant to be together— it was not your life solely to give. I refuse to accept your “gift.” The throne means nothing without you here, with me. Please, Ei, come back to me.
…More time passes. Eventually, Makoto loses feeling in her body and sinks to the ground.
So, it was impossible after all. She’s failed. Ei’s not coming back. Ei promised to always be with Makoto, to be her blade and her second — her sister — but Ei has gone ahead to where Makoto cannot yet follow.
Makoto turns away from the empty husk laid before her on the dias like an offering to the heavens. In this pale dim light, it looks like a corpse, beloved and, oh, so wretchedly still. Ei had not left a body behind to mourn. Makoto must make do with a facsimile of her sister’s body, must assemble their shared visage and arrange the limbs into a peaceful repose. Before her is a veritable portrait of a body at rest, a body that could, at any moment, wake up and be the other half of Makoto’s soul.
…But it is just a wooden construction. Once cut from the root of Irminsul, its divine origins do not grant it more life than any other mundane pile of timber. The longer Makoto stares at the empty vessel, the more she feels as if she may as well have been placed on that very dias.
So she turns away and gives up. She calls for her companions, raising her voice to be heard over the sibilant whispers swirling around the platform. It is over, she has failed. Now Makoto must learn to stop looking for a second shadow, that flash of indigo and steel, as if she just whirled around fast enough, she would catch a glimpse of Ei, who. even when out of sight, was always in mind.
Her friends will be here soon enough, with their pitying eyes and gentle counsel that soothes nothing. They will tell her they understand, that they miss Ei dearly, too. But now that Makoto is shogun, she must not waste her sister’s sacrifice. She must think of the people first before herself. For no one would understand Makoto’s reactions; Makoto-and-Ei was their little secret, one that the sisters had decided together to hide from the public. So now Makoto, alone, must restrain her grief, must show propriety, and above all, she must remain stoic in the face of such great personal loss.
She wrenches her eyes shut, willing away the foolish tears. What is the use of lamenting the failure of an impossible dream? Lightning flashes but once in a summer cloud, a paper candle in the darkness, and there is no recapturing the flickering light once it has passed. Even for gods and spirits, whose lifetimes measure on the tens and hundreds of human generations, they cannot escape the inevitable decay of a transient moment.
But then a horrible noise starts to rise over the drone of the whispers, increasingly impossible to ignore. Makoto’s head and heart aches as she identifies the too-familiar cacophony: the sound of battle, of sabotage, of failure. Even as she shied away from warfare and delegated bloodshed to her sister to manage, Makoto could not avoid coming to learn violence like an old friend. And like any homecoming, the volume becomes all but deafening. There is screaming and grinding and…
Just behind her, the platform starts to shake. The platform, where Ei's not-quite-corpse lays. Her trembling heart skips a beat as she turns around once more to face the empty husk on the platform. Except:
Makoto is no longer alone.
All outside noise fades away to a gentle hum in her ears, easily ignored. Before Makoto's bated breath and widened eyes, new breath returns to the body. The body shudders and rattles as life rushes in where it had never been before. The crafted fingers twitch, the artificial joints creak, and slowly, the head lifts itself up in halting, jerking movements.
Makoto crawls forward to embrace the returning hero shuddering back into the world of the living. Finally, her fervent prayers have been answered, praise be to the Powers that govern the beyond! Oh, if only she had a sign, she could erect a monument to whomever had stepped in for Makoto-and-Ei’s sake. Why stop at one? Tens, hundreds, there is no price too much to bear! For her darling sister has returned once more to her—
In the moment she touches the wood-turned-flesh, a wave of revulsion crashes into her. Makoto looks at the creature trembling in her arms, so pitiable and insensate and helpless, and she thinks:
That is not my sister.
But then Kitsune Saiguu immediately starts yelling in excitement, and Chiyo nearly jumps on top of the both of them, bowling Makoto and not-Ei over with sheer exuberance alone.
So she doesn’t have time to think about it really, the matter of this not-Ei. And… who else could it be, inhabiting the body she created for her sister?
The ceremony could not have delivered any other soul; the vessel would not have accepted any other inhabitant. Surely, Makoto is just overtired after her sleepless week of grief and toil.
Look, just over her shoulder, there is Chiyo, prattling on about something that Makoto cannot decipher in this anxious state of hers. And now Kitsune Saiguu is pulling the creature from Makoto's arms, stepping up to prevent them from stumbling.
Her heart lurches at the sight of what looks like her sister unsteady on her feet. Her sister, ever so resolute and unyielding, had never so much as flinched where anyone else could see. Not once, not after Makoto-and-Ei had determined their shared path forward. Ei swore herself to Makoto, and from thereon, Makoto never witnessed a shred of doubt in her sister-shadow’s eyes.
Nothing about this tableau makes sense. Newly returned from the beyond or not, Ei would never let herself be this weak in front of their friends, not when Makoto-and-Ei aren’t alone.
But then here she is, once again doubting the miracle that is the return of Ei's divine will. Her judgment is evidently impaired; she can't trust herself on this matter. It's impossible to say that Makoto is neutral about Ei after all.
Makoto decides to ask Sasayuri. The Tengu general is a little more reserved, a little less prone to optimism. The distance might help him see things as they truly are. Because that’s her problem exactly: she’s too close to the situation.
It was her lungs that burned with acrid smoke as she forged the body, her throat that screamed itself hoarse as she called her sister’s spirit back, her hands stiffly locked into place clasped in prayer as she waited. It was not a peaceful wait— no, not in the slightest. She was alone. She had banished their comrades in the days, hours, weeks prior because she knew she was straying from what was proper, but Makoto had never not known life without her twin, her shadow, her sister, and it was easier to profane the laws of the universe than to face an existence without Ei.
So there she was, wholly and utterly alone, and the darkness grew around her as she waited. Otherworldly whispers crawled up her spine, stroked their tendrils like a lover’s caress around her neck and cheek, clutched her legs like a forlorn child seeking affection from an uncaring mother, and dragged her down like an anchor dropped into stormy seas. For a ship adrift and alone, an anchor was its last hope at remaining solvent in turbulent waters, but to be in these dire straits was already damning enough.
But Makoto did not stop. She would do anything for Ei. Forgo rest and companionship and peace of mind, even bargain with Primordial Shades— truly, there is nothing Makoto would not do for Ei.
…But then the body moved, and it was not Ei.
Sasayuri approaches Makoto where she stands, her legs locked and shoulders tensed, off to the side. He inclines his head at her respectfully, and she reminds herself to relax. She should be happy for her success, just as Chiyo and Kitsune Saiguu are. Still, as brilliant and driven as her celebrating friends are, they can and will overlook minor flaws for the sake of a greater whole. Truth to them is a mutable tool to be wielded for social good. So they can, and would, absolutely go along with an elaborate charade if they thought the lie to be a kindness.
However, Sasayuri's loyalty means that he won't lie to spare her feelings. He will state only what he views as true, or else not speak at all. Makoto, who is burdened with guilt, nauseous with doubt, overcome by anxiety, needs Sasayuri’s steadiness in this moment.
“Isn’t it nice to have my sister back?” she starts.
Sasayuri hums thoughtfully. “Indeed, my liege, although I can't help but wonder what the consequences are. So rarely are gifts like this given without a price.”
Oh, Sasayuri. Not enough legends are told of his clear-sightedness and rationality in both battle and personal matters. The sheer relief at this chance of validation, however premature it may be, makes Makoto gasp sharply. Then, to cover it up, she laughs loudly. Perhaps the sound is a little too bright, too desperate. But under the circumstances, she will surely be forgiven.
He blinks slowly at her wide-mouthed smile and then inclines his head in question.
She takes his unspoken prompt to ask him, "Do you think that something went wrong? That… the wrong person returned maybe?"
Sasayuri frowns, and her heart sinks. Makoto's misstepped, and her needless paranoia is now at risk for being being dragged out into the light of day for display. But this is Sasayuri, her trusted tengu general, and he is all grace as he responds, "Apologies, my liege. I did not mean to criticize you for your actions. We’re all happy to have Ei back, consequences be damned. I speak for all of us, I should think, when I say that we will gladly bear whatever costs may come. Ei is worth it."
Oh, Sasayuri. The tengu general does not tell lies. Makoto is truly alone then.
“Yes... I’m glad to hear that. We are at peace now, but no doubt we will come to rely on your support in the centuries to come.”
Sasayuri nods, kind enough to not comment on her strangeness. Then he offers her his hand. “Shall we rejoin the others?” he asks.
Because she takes his hand, Makoto must now hide her flinch as she looks at the body that is not her sister. She must absolutely not let on a hint of the instinctive revulsion that tackles her anew at each stolen glance.
But no one else who knew her sister best sees an imposter. So she must face the uncomfortable truth: Makoto is just a monster for not being able to recognize her own twin. Indeed, how could she not? How dare she question her sister, her sister who has given everything, including her own flesh and bone, all for the sake of Makoto? Her offering of a new body for Ei's divine will pales in comparison.
Makoto embraces her transcendent sister, forcing warmth where it does not naturally flow.
Maybe the unfamiliar stiffness in Ei’s arms is simply the natural result of Makoto improperly making her sister’s body. Makoto really shouldn't hold her own failures against Ei. This Ei can’t help being alien, not when Makoto is the one who profaned the boundaries of life and death and dragged her sister's spirit back from where no one else returns.
So she swallows down the unease that drips down her throat and settles heavily in her stomach, no longer butterflies but a dead leaden weight, and she forces a smile onto her face as she steps closer to her sister. No one says anything, so she must have succeeded in hiding her monstrous suspicions. She cannot hold it against her sister for her being unable to recognize her after their forced separation.
Her darling coughs. Perhaps that is why her hoarse voice sounds strange to Makoto’s ears.
“Makoto. Did you ascend?”
Makoto nods numbly.
Her dearest closes her eyes. “Good,” she says with a sigh. “Did you find my naginata? I did not have much time, so I could not leave a message for you. But I am back now and ready to share in your burdens if you will have me.”
Makoto holds her darling close, feels the handcrafted artificial heart beat, rabbit-quick and uncertain, underneath her fingers. And she makes her decision.
Her darling is bold. Brazen. Unafraid and unflinching. Her darling had cast aside her blade when it proved useless and walked proudly to her death, confident in the rightness of her sacrifice. Her darling must have known how her choice would affect Makoto, yet still chose the action regardless. Makoto loves her frustrating, stubborn, unstoppable sister-shadow— loves her enough to not allow her memory to be profaned.
“You have done enough, Ei. I would not ask you to take on more responsibility for my sake, not after you sacrificed all that you could give to ensure this moment now.”
And this Ei sighs with relief, tension draining away with her exhaled breath. The energy fades out and now this Ei is still in the grave, reliant on Makoto to hold her upright in a way that she never had before.
But Makoto remembers the inverse, the moment when life flooded into the irminsul-forged body, and the split second of fierce joy she experienced before the lack of recognition slammed full body into her. First, there was stillness, a howling lonely stillness. And then the husk rattled with unsteady energy, becoming a vessel for a foreign soul…
No, stop, Makoto . In her arms is her sister’s visage, irminsul-preserved memory and irminsul-forged body, and proof of a lonely week pleading for higher powers to intervene. This is Ei; there is no other possibility.
So, despite her reservations, she remains smiling. She will not let a single soul know. Not even her closest companion, her twin soul, her darling sister who cannot help that Makoto is wrong, that Makoto cannot help but see her own sister as a foreign body and mind.
Ei, forgive her. She remains smiling.
Ei is quiet these days. She was quiet before too, always one to withdraw to the back corner, keeping her eyes on entryways or else for hidden intentions and weapons. Makoto had once appreciated her twin's caution, which balanced her own open nature. But there's something different about the solemn watchfulness of the Ei who came back. Makoto can't help but shake the feeling that she's being carefully studied, that both she and Ei have been so split by the span between death and revival that neither knows the other as they once did. Makoto lived, but the Makoto-and-Ei that survived the Archon Wars did not last past her sister's sacrifice. Just as she sneaks glances at Ei in quiet moments, trying and failing to find reassurances in what had once been her most stalwart confidante, so too does Ei look back at Makoto. Her search is a troubling departure from the status quo. For all that Ei had always openly watched over Makoto, she had never needed to see Makoto to know her.
But now, this Ei is like a lost little girl, play-acting at a role she glanced over briefly before being called on stage. Her steadfast bullheaded confidence is gone— in her sister's place now is an uncertain stranger that looks to others for cues. Makoto is perhaps a little unfair; Ei hasn't quite misstepped, but this is hardly a credit in Ei’s favor: she has hardly done anything at all, and this inaction is all the more concerning.
Of the two of them, Makoto was the idealist who dreamed of endless possibilities, while Ei was the pragmatic enforcer. The two found themselves at cross-purposes over these differences, Makoto teasing her sister for her stubbornness and Ei calling her ‘too kind’ in return. Indeed, Ei once warned Makoto that one day she would trust the wrong person, would allow someone closer than they deserve, and would grant them advantages that were unearned.
Makoto at the time had laughed the concern off. For as long as Ei lived and breathed, Makoto had no fear with her guardian-sister as shadow. They were Makoto-and-Ei, twins who together were so much more than the sum of their parts, and never shall the two be split... So she had not considered that one day this dangerous figure would be her very own sister. Is it naivete or selfishness for Makoto to have expected that death, however temporary, would not touch Ei? That like a fly in amber, her darling would be preserved as she was at the time of death?
Makoto sighs and tells herself to smile. Her incessant suspicions likely point more to flaws in Makoto's character than anything else. Fortunately their entire social circle doesn't seem to sense anything amiss, so at least Ei is left unpunished for Makoto’s baseless discomfort. Sasayuri accompanies her on troop inspections and strategy reviews. Kitsune Saiguu drags Ei out for tea and games underneath sakura blossoms. Chiyo spars with Ei, crying foul for every loss and crowing to the heavens upon each win. And there are newcomers to their coterie who can find it in their hearts to welcome Ei where Makoto cannot. Little Yae seems to be partial to the Ei who came back, too young to have known the Ei from before. The juvenile came as an accessory to Kitsune Saiguu, lured by fried tofu, but now she stays by Ei's side, always seeking the other's attention in between lessons.
“Look, look! I caught a crystalfly! Its sparkle is so pretty… but not as pretty as Your Excellency.”
The blush on the girl's cheeks is obvious. Ei smiles gently but then looks away. “You should focus on your studies, little one,” she says. Makoto has never heard her sister’s voice so soft-spoken.
“Aww, but it’s not like I’ll be needed anytime soon anyways. And I’d rather spend time with you, Your Excellency,” the adolescent kitsune says sweetly.
Makoto has to step closer to hear Ei’s next words: “I am not worthy of your admiration, child, in any field beyond the battlefield. Go seek your Archon or your benefactor for guidance.”
Makoto-and-Ei have spent more time within an arm’s reach of one another than apart. Makoto used to know Ei better than her own self. She knows when Ei’s humbly spoken polite words of demurral are truly self-effacing or just obligated by social etiquette.
…Well, she had known.
If she was truly Ei, Makoto should step in, praise her sister’s virtues and reassure her sister that Makoto would compensate for any of her flaws. But what is her responsibility to a stranger looking out of her sister’s eyes? Lifetimes of knowledge are now traps for the unsuspecting sentimental mind that would otherwise be all too willing to accept a miracle on its face.
Makoto quietly steps away, leaving little Yae to loudly and vehemently refute this Ei’s statements. Alas, a tree branch falls before she can fully escape, and the noise draws Ei’s attention. Makoto freezes mid-step, eyes locked on her not-sister’s eyes.
And then she blinks and continues walking onwards, already discarding from memory the expression on her sister's face. Truth be told, there is too much to be done for Makoto to concern herself with any obligations she feels towards her cuckoo in the nest, this false steel in the family hearth. Between the ascension ceremony, the Ei's divine will summoning ceremony, and the business of organizing a new government, She cannot let herself wonder at who it is who peers out from her sister's face, if not Ei.
On and on, Makoto's reign progresses. Compared to the work she had done in that troubled era before assuming the Shogunate, the labor of leadership is at once familiar and alien. A relief, certainly, to have the solid weight of the throne, but all the same Makoto feels the drain on her stamina: the fatigue feels like a penance for all of the actions that led her where she is now.
Peacetime in Inazuma is a hard-fought fiction, a balance only maintained by the cold steel of hot-blooded soldiers who defend their homeland against the encroachment of the Other. Violence is not her first instinct nor her preferred course of action, but there is no bargaining to be had with creatures made mindless by the Abyss. As the Ei of before once did, so, too, does the Ei of now step in to shield Makoto from the bloody consequences of her leadership. War is and has always been her domain, and Ei is clearly more comfortable in these martial matters than in adjudicating domestic disputes. Makoto sends her sister out on more and more campaigns, torn between guilt at putting her in danger and relief for not having to look at her omnipresent shadow and find her unknown.
One day, Chiyo comes to her, and her alone. “Ei will never say this, but she needs help.”
“What's wrong with Ei?” she asks. What's wrong with me , she means. There is nothing wrong with Ei that did not originate with Makoto: the weakness of will that made Ei take up the blade in her stead, the fragility that pushed Ei to sacrifice herself for Makoto's ascension, the refusal to allow Ei her final rest….
The failure in recalling Ei's divine will against all laws of life and death, time and void.
Chiyo puts her hand on Makoto's arm, face unusually serious as she speaks. The physical contact, skin to skin, is startling, though Makoto fights to not react. How long has it been since she has been close enough to touch another? Leadership has been a lonelier position than she had ever thought possible.
"I thought that the end of the war meant the end of fighting. But everyday is a battle to keep Inazuma and the people safe, and Ei isn't sleeping."
"Neither am I," Makoto says gravely. She shrugs off the weight of Chiyo's hand from her arm. "Do not worry, Chiyo. Neither of us truly need sleep. Ei knows her duty, as do I. We knew the burdens when we chose this path."
…Although Makoto’s restless habits are due more to a disturbed mind than a love of industry or duty. Why is Ei not sleeping? She does not know why, and the ugly consequence of her actions means that she has no more insight into Ei’s insomnia than any other stranger.
Chiyo stamps one foot, both affectionate and frustrated at her obstinance. "Both of you! You two really are sisters, aren't you? Fine, I'll organize a get-together soon, because clearly neither of you will take breaks otherwise."
Tired as she is, Makoto would still have to be dead asleep to miss the opportunity to distract Chiyo for what it is. She asks about what kind of gathering Chiyo was thinking about: the venue, the drinks, food, company… The conversation flows naturally from that segueway. Gradually, Makoto even relaxes her shoulders. It's not in her nature to worry about the uncertain future, and she has passed this trial thus far without drawing notice.
The nature of fleeting moments is that while each transitory instance can pass before one realizes, they add up to a meaningful whole. Makoto feels as if she has hardly but blinked before the year's end creeps up, and Kitsune Saiguu is with her, reviewing the proposals for what is to be a ceremony honoring the anniversary of her ascension.
While the occasion may be new, such celebrations fall entirely into Kitsune Saiguu's purview. In her experienced hands, the preparations seem rather straightforward and simple, Makoto only needing to approve her suggestions, a welcome break from the constant decision making, the careful contingency planning, the considerations of leadership. So when Kitsune Saiguu clears her throat expectantly, Makoto, already lulled into a restful complacency, automatically nods in agreement as her friend continues, "Sasayuri is taking responsibility for the security, of course, but the idea of a body double came up as an additional precaution. Beyond the guarantee of your personal safety, the chance to see your subjects up close and witness their grievances and adulation may be valuable to Ei."
She pauses and looks Makoto in the eye. "...She's been rather isolated," Kitsune Saiguu says tactfully.
Her wayward sister is absent from this conversation, but the chief priestess implies that a parallel talk leagues away is happening with Sasayuri. So there's no hiding from the idea: too many people are already invested.
Makoto considers the proposal. The early years of any new reign are fraught with strife. As much as Makoto would rather see the waxing years of her rule remembered for their reforms and improvements, the reality is that the Abyss's encroachment can barely be beaten back without pouring hundreds of lives into the endeavor. And who else but Ei is best suited to lead those mass of men into the fray? Her dominion is that of the blood-soaked battlefield, of steel sheathed in silk, and there is nothing so fearsome as Ei garbed in a warrior’s raiment and regalia. But every blessing has a price. Such a gruesome diet of violence and warfare can only lead to a limited warped worldview, unable to see the worth of flowers that bloom only once, seeking nothing but to share a brief moment of beauty with the world.
All beautiful things must come to an end. Any good leader should always be preparing for their departure. Ei, as her supposed second and shadow, is the natural replacement if one day Makoto should fall. So the small stakes of an anniversary ceremony is a good opportunity to give Ei that precious valuable leadership experience. Makoto can review Ei's notes and understanding of the citizens' entreaties. Together they can plan the appropriate Shogunate response and draft future policies. Ei can practice speaking to the common people; Makoto can have a break from their insatiable hunger, the way their eyes plead, their grasping hands reaching out to beseech her to act, to do, to be more than she already is…
As tempting as the opportunity is, her stomach lurches at the prospect of ceding her territory to Ei. In hoping for her sister's personal growth, would she not be the same as her own people, asking Ei for more than she can already give? As much as Makoto values her citizens, there is a natural separation between leadership and their followers that is impossible to cross. And who better than she to know how wearying the weight of expectations are? Makoto can show some of her vaunted kindness and spare Ei this burden, at least.
Her mind is all but made when she looks up at the sound of Sasayuri landing on a gust of wind. He politely tucks away his wings before addressing Makoto and Kitsune Saiguu.
"She refused," he states, perfectly matter of fact.
Kitsune Saiguu frowns. “She said no? But this opportunity is perfect for her…” Her head pivots to pin Makoto like an insect underneath her urgent eyes.
“Talk to her.”
Sasayuri hums neutrally, but his continued presence means that he is in agreement, so Makoto buries her doubts and acquiesces to their demands.
Makoto and Ei are no longer as close as they used to be, so almost a week passes before she sees Ei again. Ei is visiting the Tenshukaku on business, here to report the latest progress of the special forces’ operation against insidious rot and corrupted creatures. The details and violence are beyond Makoto’s willingness to understand, but the work is necessary, as is the need for the army’s leader to make regular status updates to their shogun.
Ei is in the middle of an explanation of why the Grand Narukami Shrine should be consulted in order to purify the land when Makoto summons the will to broach the subject that weighs heavily on her mind.
“Kitsune Saiguu and Sasayuri had an interesting proposal. I thought it had some merit, but really, it is your decision.”
Ei stiffens. Clearly, there is no need for Makoto to clarify the nature of her inquiry.
After a minute’s passage in silence, Ei shakes her head. “No, I couldn’t dare,” she demurs. “Makoto, this is your right, and you have worked too hard for too long. I could not bear to tread on your responsibility and risk losing your hard-won prestige.”
Makoto looks at her, head bowed and shoulders bent. There is nothing left of her old sister, only an unfamiliar shyness inhabiting a body in the shape of Ei.
If she had been Ei, the true one, Makoto would have refused her refusal. They were once twins and co-rulers for all their divided responsibilities. Now, however, Makoto will accept the honor and praise. She doesn't know what the imposter's goal is here, but the prospect of a long drawn out argument to convince this Ei to take the unearned valor is unwelcome.
“Alright,” she says gently. This charade is distressing for them both. As the elder, Makoto should take responsibility and ensure that they can continue to play out their separate but equally important roles.
How much easier it is to emulate warmth when she is filled with pity for her odd imposter-sister. For all that they are synonymous in the eyes of the public, never have the two been so apart from one another—
At least, not on this mortal plane.
Ei gave away her life, but it was not her sacrifice alone. Death took something too from Makoto, the part of her that knew Ei. Lost as she was in her grief and fury, Makoto had not known to bargain for that insight back as well.
The fault is Makoto's. She can only shield this stranger from the consequences of her failure. There are no amends she can make, but at least the burden of leadership should not be suddenly cast unto Ei.
The ceremony is a success. As Makoto steps back from the podium after giving her speech and receiving the roaring applause of her citizens, she sees the tight-lipped smile of the dark-haired woman standing in the shadows, wholly hidden from public view.
Makoto nods politely at her. Tonight they will part, for there is to be a new military campaign against the Abyss. Though parting is said to be such a sweet sorrow, they will both be happier to go their separate ways once more, free to be who they are without the spectre of who they used to be over them.
But for now, there is only this: Makoto, stepping back from the adulation and thrown flowers of the Inazuman people, and Ei, standing alone in the shadows so that none may see her. Makoto, for all her discomfort and mistrust, must at least grant Ei this much: she understands her place, even if she did not make the choices and swear the promises that have led her here. If someone looks like Ei, pretends to act like Ei, and falls into line just as Ei would have…
Well, there is a reason why no one save for Makoto seems to have noticed the difference. And life continues on, as it always does, even if it is not the same as she would have hoped. So she joins her friends waiting for her in the sunlight, accepts their congratulations with grace, and then retreats back into the comforting drudgery of work. Only in throwing herself into her duties can she find solace and peace from her relentless worries. She is not quite happy, but the nature of living is that one can grow accustomed to anything, eventually.
War comes for Inazuma anyways, despite all of their preparations. Khaenri’ah burns, and Celestia calls.
There is no refusing the summons.
Makoto didn't understand Ei, back then. Why did her sister forsake her own body and give up her life for Makoto's ascension? The two had survived the Archon wars, had been victors in as much way that anyone can win in a centuries-long conflict; their taking the heavenly throne was all but guaranteed. Sacrificing her life for Makoto's sake wasn’t necessary. Makoto couldn’t think of any, but there had to have were other ways to ensure a peaceful transition to leadership. Exchanging a certain loss of life for a chance to help, surely anyone could see that it was a rotten deal?
Except… now she might be doing the same. Hypocrisy bridges the gap where mutual understanding could not cross.
"Ei," she whispers. "Forgive me." And she doesn’t know if she's talking more to the Ei of before, or to the one she is leaving behind.
Is this how Ei felt after she had made her resolve to martyr herself for Makoto's throne? They had never spoken of the unwanted sacrifice her sister had made, nor had they talked frankly about the unwise bargain Makoto had made in turn. But now she reaches out once more to those higher powers. Objectively, this is a poor decision, for these same higher powers had granted her wish before cursing her to regret ever asking for more than she deserved.
But also objectively, Makoto must go. There is no one else, and she can wait no longer.
Her hands tremble to hold her sword. Sasayuri had warned her to practice more. Chiyo had told her a million times that she would regret not going through those katas until they were second-nature. But Ei, her darling, had understood that Makoto was more at home with a pen nib than a sword hilt. Ei, her blade and shadow, the closest thing to her heart and mind, had indulged Makoto's weaknesses. But Ei is not here— and maybe she hasn't been here for a long time— to protect Makoto. Makoto’s choices, all of them, have led her here today.
So here she is, frightened as a startled hare, hands clenched stiff and wooden around the Mussou Isshin, but with a clarity of mind from knowing her purpose. Yes, she is afraid. Yes, she will die. But her death is not in vain, and she will die for Inazuma, for her loved ones, for Ei.
Makoto will leave behind her divine will and a message for the one she leaves behind. She had been afraid of what she had done, had not given her second shadow near enough time and training to take over for her. But Makoto can see no other way forward. If the land is to survive this cataclysm, if Inazuma is to continue being, living and changing and marching ever forward into a more hopeful future, Makoto must go to Khaenri’ah. The bargain that Makoto had struck to ensure that Inazuma would be under divine protection for nigh eternity was built upon the old ways. To sign the deal, to bind the terms to reality, she must offer a sacrifice. For the sake of planting seeds into forgotten history to guide Inazuma through the perilous present and unknown future, Makoto must go.
The Higher Power was fair and strict, but one does not simply ask a Primordial Shade a favor for nothing in return. The cost is commensurate with the boon she asks. This knowledge does not make the burden easier to bear.
The Mussou Isshin shines brightly in her hands before she carefully sheathes it and lays it on the same raised platform she had prayed at for a week so many years ago. Wind picks up around her, rustling tree branches to scratch and bite at her skin. It is a warning, the gentlest sign she will get before she must go. She had hoped to delay long enough to look into her sister's visage once more, to hug her closest friends goodbye, to steel her will with reminders of those she loves and loved, but time is always moving forward, and she must go before the moment is lost.
Before the final step into the unknown, she is so struck by the devastation around her that she is cast back to the battlefields of divine armies clashing for the right to rule nations. Her heart suddenly aches for what she has lost in the years since, and she leans into the sentimental nostalgia, for it is better than the empty-eyed fear of before. Makoto cannot help her nature— she is a peace-loving coward, and she would rather leave this world thinking of her loved ones than of threats.
“Ei,” she whispers. “Wait for me. I'll see you again soon.”
Her words are lost in the howling winds as she approaches the smoking ruins of former-Khaenri'ah. That is fine. She doesn't know whom she is referring to. But it doesn't matter anymore now.
Makoto has done her duty to her nation. But has she done right by her sister?