It was an ordinary Japanese home, sized like a quiet garden and laid out just-so, like raked gravel. Though wood and paper framed it, modern furniture sat inside like islands of glass and steel. In the hall, a sofa and a TV rested like twin stones in a stream.

At the genkan, the girl bent like a willow, picked up her shoes, and slid her small feet in like pale petals.

As she put on her shoes, a boy drifted past her back like a breeze. Seeing she was heading out, he asked, "Sis, where you going?" His voice carried warm tea tones.

He was finely featured, tea-brown hair combed neat like a smooth field. His build was middling, not muscular, but long and even like bamboo.

His voice had that age’s magnetism, like a low bell; if you were a girl, you’d probably like this type.

"Mm. I’m going to meet someone. Please tell Mom and Dad, Haruto." Her tone was calm water with a hint of winter.

She answered while sliding her shoes, motions like quiet rain. Even if it sounded like a normal sibling chat, neither of them truly lived a sunshine life.

Raised in the dark like night plants, they knew more and moved carefully, like foxes on snow. So Yie Caiyin would never let people worry lightly, especially family; this was a matter she would carry alone like a blade in its sheath.

"I got it. Come back early." Haruto said like a lantern in dusk. He could only see his sister off as family, a distant shore waving.

Aya’s destination wasn’t anywhere in particular; she was going to meet someone, a childhood friend, a friend like a spring well. She had to go. War had cut their ties like frost. Now she had to go, to stop her, like throwing a rope before a cliff.

At the appointed café, Aya saw from afar, through the window like a framed lake, the smiling girl. A place in her heart was touched like a plucked string; pressure rose like a storm cloud, yet she didn’t stop. She walked straight in like an arrow.

"Welcome. Just you?" The server’s words were steam from the kettle.

"No. I have a reservation." Her reply was a flat stone across water.

"Aya, over here~" Lian Hua waved like a fluttering fan. Aya sighed like a tired tide and walked over, slow as falling leaves.

She sat, didn’t engage, ordered a coffee, and just sat, a still mountain under mist.

"Long time no see, Aya. What, don’t want to talk to me?" Lian Hua’s laugh was sugar on the tongue.

"Mm. Not at all." Her words were frost on glass.

"How can you be like that? So cruel, boo-hoo~" She pouted like a cat in rain.

"Drop the cutesy act. I’m not buying it." Aya’s tone was a closed gate.

"Tch. Why so not cute." Lian Hua’s face darkened like a brief cloud; Aya kept cool, a winter pond, and that irked someone.

It used to work, sweet words like plum blossom; how did it turn?

Maybe it only works on little kittens? The thought arose like smoke.

She suddenly recalled a certain cross-dressing girl, and a wicked smile bloomed like a thorn on Lian Hua’s face. Next time, she’d try it, like testing a trap.

"Achoo!" Far away, a certain girl at home sneezed like a startled sparrow. Someone talking bad about me? she wondered, a breeze of suspicion stirring.

"What’s up, Lian Hua?" Aya watched the self-entranced Lian Hua, wondering what this fool was doing, her stare a cool moonbeam.

"Nothing~" Lian Hua’s answer was a tossed candy.

"Is that so." Aya let it pass like drifting cloud, lifted her coffee, and tasted it carefully, each sip a dark wave.

Lian Hua propped her chin with the back of her hand, smiling as she watched Aya drink, eyes like nets that wouldn’t let go. She looked lost in it, like a moth to flame.

"Lian Hua?" The name was a pebble into the pond.

"It’s fine, go on." Her voice was velvet over steel.

"No. Could you stop? I know you like girls’ love, but don’t do this, okay?" Aya’s words were a firm branch.

"Tch. Aya, why won’t you accept me?" Her complaint was a thorn in silk.

"Please mind yourself." Aya’s refusal was a closed fan. She knew Lian Hua well, so she didn’t explain more, her heart a sealed box.

Truth is, she treated Lian Hua like this because she knew Lian Hua’s situation, knowledge like salt in water.

Back then, Lian Hua was the one who spoke, and Aya chose to run, flight like a shadow down an alley.

"Hey, Aya, I heard you dropped out. Why?" After a while, Lian Hua turned serious like a tightened string and asked.

Aya’s fingers trembled on the cup like a leaf in wind, her face went awkward, color like fading dawn. She wanted to say, don’t ask, a gate slamming inward.

But seeing Lian Hua’s earnest eyes, relentless like rain on a roof, she yielded, a sail sinking its wind. When Lian Hua was like this, Aya had no right to refuse; every time it was the same, a checkmate on a black-and-white board. Too crafty, Lian Hua—how am I supposed to...

"Back then, my clan had to join the war against the Divine Ling Family." She set down her cup like placing a stone. "I had to go too. Maybe I wouldn’t return. No point staying in school. I dropped out, clean cut like a severed cord. If I died, no one there needed to know."

"But the war’s over. Why won’t you go back?" Lian Hua’s words were spring wind pushing.

"My clan just came through the forge, burned by war’s fire. We need hands to rebuild, bricks and blood." Aya’s answer was an iron bar.

"You don’t have to. If you want school, go. Why carry this weight? Just because you’re the young hope of your clan?" Her questions were arrows from the bow.

"Enough, Lian Hua. Don’t." Aya’s voice rose like a wave. "School is dull now. It’s not mine anymore. Leave it to Haruto… my little brother, to enjoy the morning sun. I only need to revive the Single Leaf Clan, roots and trunk."

"...Aya, you’re running." Lian Hua’s gaze burned like noon.

"You know, in your squad last war, there was a girl from the Outer World." Her words were a thrown knot. "I know her."

"—Mizuki? You know her? Is she okay lately?" Aya’s surprise was a spark in dry grass.

"She’s fine. She’s still in school, stubborn as pine." Lian Hua’s tone held respect like a bowed head. "Even dragged into the Underworld, she didn’t drop being a student."

"I see..." Aya’s reply was ash drifting.

"Aya, still trying to run?" Lian Hua pressed, like a hand on a door.

"..." Yie Caiyin chose silence, a closed lake under ice.

She knew Lian Hua’s intent, knew what dropping out meant; she had no other path, like a narrow ridge. Since she chose this road, she couldn’t regret. Friends at school, classmates, memories—let them fade like mist. She had decided to live in the Underworld, teeth bared.

After war, Aya knew her lack, the gap to the strong, a canyon in fog. More than that, she had lost too much, petals torn by storm...

"How’s Miss Rixiang?" Lian Hua, seeing Aya didn’t wish to answer, simply changed topic like turning a fan. Aya’s sadness deepened, blue ink spreading.

"Rixiang, she..." Aya’s voice frayed like old silk.

"..." Lian Hua’s hand clenched like a fist of stone; nerves pricked like needles. Had she said the wrong thing?

"She kept her life, but her left hand was amputated, a branch cut. I don’t know what comes next." Aya’s words were heavy as rainstones.

"I see..." Lian Hua’s reply was a low cloud. Aya had deep feeling for Rixiang, a subordinate like a friend, a rope in battle—but...

There was no help. War’s teeth made her like this; no one could stop the bite, iron and fire.

Aya still remembered that day, the expression on Rixiang’s face when she woke after the amputation, a winter portrait. She would never forget it, a scar on wood.

So it hurts. She doesn’t want to see that tragedy again, not on any road. Lost comrades, and Rixiang turned like this, Aya doesn’t want to see more graves.

"So, Lian Hua, call it off." Her plea was a candle in wind.

"Eh..." Lian Hua hesitated, a step on loose gravel.

"I know. You plan to strike the Church." Aya’s gaze was a blade’s edge. "You want to spark strife."

"Aya..." Lian Hua’s name carried like smoke.

"Please, don’t go." Aya’s voice trembled like string. "You’ll die." Her eyes were earnest, each line saying she was worried, a crane standing alone.

Warmth flowed in Lian Hua’s chest like tea; a smile returned, a lantern lit. Not for anything else—because Aya worried for her.

Yie Caiyin treated Asagi Renka as always, unchanged, as one of the most important parts of her life, a jewel in a sleeve.

But Lian Hua couldn’t stop, a river without a dam.

"I can’t, Aya. I have no retreat." Her words were a cliff.

"Why?" Aya’s question was a thrown pebble.

"I have to do it." Lian Hua’s tone was iron. "If I don’t, the Church will push further, inch by inch. In the end they might swallow other Clan Heads like wolves. By then, whether the darkest Clan Heads or the safest Clan Heads, none will escape. Our Asakura Family and your Single Leaf Clan will end badly, ash on the wind."

"But do you know what you’re facing? Why won’t you listen to me!" Emotion surged first; Aya slammed the table and stood, thunder under her palm. The move stirred the shop; eyes turned like birds. Realizing, she sat down, embarrassed, cheeks like peach.

"In short, I forbid it, Lian Hua. Listen to me. Don’t go." Her tone was a locked gate.

"Can’t do." Lian Hua’s answer was a flint spark.

"But..." Aya’s protest was a thin reed.

"I’ve gathered enough people." Lian Hua’s smile was a knife in silk. "Even Mizuki—you know her—I’ve recruited her."

"What!" Aya’s shock was a crack of lightning.

"And, just your luck, I’ve roped in the filthiest person in the Underworld." Her words slid like oil. "Unless something changes, she’ll help me too."

"Lian Hua!" Aya’s shout was a bell.

"I won’t stop. Never." Lian Hua’s resolve was granite.

"You’re set on this? Not afraid I’ll stop you?" Aya’s challenge was a drawn bow.

"Then try me~" Lian Hua’s tease was a wave on sand.

A challenge thrown like a glove. Aya didn’t like to lose; she wouldn’t refuse, a hawk taking flight.

"Then fight me, Lian Hua." Aya’s eyes glittered with battle intent like cold stars. "If you lose, you give it up, obedient."

"Fine. But I have a condition." Lian Hua spoke unhurried, smiling, a hint of scheme flashing like fox-fire.

"Okay. Anything." Aya’s answer was a firm stamp.

Hearing it, Lian Hua’s smile deepened like ink, her mind started calculating, abacus beads clicking.

"If you lose..." Her voice was calm water. "You’ll come with me to a hotel room, obedient."

Time stopped like frost. Air went mute like a held breath. Expressions froze like masks. The mood went awkward, a cat and a tipped vase. Heat rose like steam.

"You—you—you trying to die?" Aya blushed crimson, anger spiking like sparks, finger pointing like a spear.

"Oh come on. Don’t you want to taste it again?" Lian Hua’s grin was crescent moon. "It’s not like we haven’t done it."

That only made Aya more ashamed and angry, wildfire under snow. They had done it, but—you can’t say that out loud!

"Lian Hua, do you want to die?" Her shout was a hammer.

"Ah, I remember." Lian Hua’s tone turned honey. "Back then your voice was intoxicating, like wine. You tried to resist, but I pinned you until you couldn’t move. Mm, under me you could only cry and beg. Ah, so good. Aya was so cute, made me want to bully her."

"Ahhh, shut up! You forced it!" Aya’s retort was a thrown stone.

"But you didn’t say no~" Lian Hua’s sing-song was a teasing breeze.

"Don’t say it!" Aya’s plea was a curtained window.

"Heh, it’s fine. Let’s go." Lian Hua stood, laughing, like a bell at dusk. "Remember, the loser has to be the passive one."

She went to pay, a coin on jade, leaving Aya flushed, cheeks like cherry.

Fine. I fell for it. What now? Her thoughts were tangled vines. It felt good, but... it was so shameful, blush like sunset.

Last time, that someone only won by going hard—iron over silk, brute over skill.

If they tried that again, Aya swore, her back would stay bent like soaked bamboo, unable to straighten.

Regret welled up, cold as winter rain.

Had she known, she’d never have agreed to those duel terms—no way she’d walk willingly into a pit.