Futaba quickly apologized with her mind.
“I’m sorry, Lady Kaguya, that’s not what I meant—”
It was already too late.
She felt the fullness inside her body suddenly intensify. It wasn’t pain, but harder to bear than pain. It was as if someone had filled every blood vessel in her body with water, and the water flowed, gurgling and surging outward. She could hear her own heartbeat, thump, thump, thump, faster and faster, as if it were about to leap out of her chest.
Her throat was filled with the taste of rust.
Then she heard Lady Kaguya say the last words with her body.
“Futaba is a good girl. Please take good care of her.”
Futaba smiled bitterly to herself.
‘Is this what it means to be a deity? She punished me, yet tells the Divine Child to treat me well. I guess the ‘Taketori Monogatari’ isn’t a lie—that Moon Princess who tormented her suitors with five impossible tasks is probably really fond of bad taste.’
Lady Kaguya’s voice rang in her soul again, much lighter than before.
“You’re an interesting little girl. But you’re right—if ‘bad taste’ refers to someone like you, then you’re absolutely correct.”
Futaba was stunned.
She didn’t expect Lady Kaguya to admit it, and what did she mean by “someone like you”? She herself wasn’t that fond of bad taste.
“As for the punishment just now, don’t take it too seriously. I didn’t do anything to you. It’s just that you haven’t undergone the Divine Descent ritual modification, so your body naturally couldn’t handle it. I only relaxed my control a little. It won’t be a big deal.”
Lady Kaguya’s tone became even more relaxed.
“And you’re right about one more thing—I’m actually quite satisfied with my current position.”
When Futaba heard this, her heart skipped a beat.
She wanted to ask further, but Lady Kaguya’s power was already receding from her body. Like the ebbing tide, it flowed out bit by bit from her body. The fullness slowly disappeared, replaced by an empty, hollowed-out feeling.
Then she regained control of her body.
Pain. All the pain surged up at once. Futaba felt as if she had been thrown from a height and crashed onto the ground, every bone crying out in pain. It wasn’t one spot hurting; it was her whole body. From her scalp to her toes, from her skin to her marrow, no part was spared.
Something flowed from the corner of her mouth. Warm, with a rusty taste. Blood.
She wanted to raise a hand to wipe it, but her hand wouldn’t lift. Her arms felt as if they were filled with lead, so heavy they didn’t feel like her own. She wanted to speak, opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Then she felt her knees go weak. Her body pitched forward.
At that moment, a pair of hands caught her. Warm, strong, with a faint smell of laundry detergent. It was You.
Futaba collapsed into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. She could hear his heartbeat, much faster than usual, thump, thump, thump, mingling with her own heartbeat until she couldn’t tell which was which.
A lightning bolt flashed through her mind. She had a brilliant idea, one that even made her whole body tremble.
You’s voice came from above her.
“Futaba? Are you okay?”
His voice was a little tight.
Futaba leaned in his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her face was pale, her lips bloodless, but her eyes were bright. Like a child receiving a long-awaited birthday present. The plan in Futaba’s mind gradually took shape. She murmured something. Her voice was very low, so low that only she could hear it.
“In that case, consider yourself lucky, Divine Child.”
You didn’t catch it.
“What?”
Futaba smiled and didn’t answer.
***
Chihaya pressed her fingers on Futaba’s wrist for a moment, then let go.
“Alright. The major damage has been repaired. The rest will heal on its own.”
She gently placed Futaba’s hand back at her side.
Hitomi also withdrew her hand and let out a small sigh.
Mai was the last to release, shaking her slightly aching wrist.
You was still holding Futaba, not letting go.
“Can you let go now?”
Futaba’s voice had regained its light, airy tone, but it was much weaker than usual, still sounding a bit strained.
You snapped back, quickly releasing her and helping her sit up.
Futaba leaned against the corridor pillar, reaching up to touch her mouth.
“Blood?”
She looked at the trace of red on her fingertip and frowned.
“How unsightly.”
Chihaya handed her a tissue.
Futaba took it and wiped her fingers, moving slowly, as if confirming she was still alive.
“What did you say just now?”
You asked.
Futaba glanced at him and smiled.
No answer.
She closed her eyes and, taking the opportunity, lay back into You’s arms.
“Let me rest a little while, You-kun.”
Her voice was languid and light.
You opened his mouth, then closed it.
‘What does that mean? Wasn’t she avoiding me just now?’
He could only obediently hold Futaba’s soft body, making her more comfortable. After all, she was injured.
Chihara raised an eyebrow, about to say something, but considering Futaba hadn’t fully recovered yet, she held back for now.
Moonlight shone down from above, casting long shadows of the group onto the wooden floor of the corridor. Bamboo swayed gently in the wind, leaves rustling.
Futaba closed her eyes, a slight smile on her lips. Fun times were coming.
You held Futaba, but his mind was on something else.
‘What did Lady Kaguya mean by that? What does she mean she has no ambition to usurp? She encroached on Tsukuyomi’s incense offerings, divided Tsukuyomi’s authority, and caused Tsukuyomi’s presence in the mortal world to plummet. Yet she herself says “I have never had the intention to usurp”? Isn’t that contradictory? But she said it so emphatically, it didn’t sound like just for show. And there’s no way she would go to the trouble of descending just to lie to me, right? That would make this deity far too idle.’
‘Wait.’
You suddenly remembered what happened a few days ago at the entrance of Hakone Shrine.
At that time, his father’s attitude was also ambiguous. He didn’t express any dissatisfaction with Futaba’s presence at all, just lightly said, “These daughters-in-law, I’m quite satisfied,” and then left. A miko serving Lady Kaguya following around the Divine Child of Tsukuyomi every day, and Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto Omikami himself didn’t object? That didn’t make sense.
‘Unless—his real enemy wasn’t Lady Kaguya.’
Connecting these two things—You’s expression turned strange.
‘Could it be that this Lady Kaguya is like a Liu Shan? She knows she’s a piece used by Amaterasu to check his father, and she’s not dissatisfied with that? Should we call it being content in comfortable surroundings, or lacking ambition?’
‘Wait, no.’
He suddenly thought of something much older, something from when he first learned he was a Living God. What had his father said to him back then?
He began to recall carefully.
‘Even though he initially expressed dissatisfaction with Lady Kaguya, what about later? When he gave him his mission, he only said to replace the blood descendant of Amaterasu and become the Emperor, never mentioning taking revenge on Lady Kaguya, did he?’
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