The bright River of Stars leaned toward dawn.
The late-autumn sky was clear, vast, and crystalline, with pale-silver clouds occasionally drifting through the night.
But more than anything, there were stars.
They covered the entire sky and made the night as bright as early morning. The stars hung low over the plain, turning even Mt. Yougou into one corner of their river.
Kiyo Seigan stood beneath them.
He did not seem to have changed. He looked exactly as he had when he left: a pure-white kimono, wooden sandals the color of unfinished timber, and long silver-white hair falling to his ankles.
Though he was now fifteen hundred years old, he still looked like a young man.
Stars rested within his deep-blue eyes as well. The whole river of heaven gathered in their depths, along with Lumine's reflection.
To this age, Kiyo had been gone for only one dusk.
To Kiyo, fifteen hundred years had passed.
What would he say when they met again?
He had thought there would be so much to tell her and so many stories to share. But when he truly returned to this age, when he saw Miss Lumine again and looked into her golden eyes, he forgot how to speak.
Everything he wanted to say—all his longing and every story—had been written into more than a thousand letters.
Now that he stood before her again, words deserted him.
"Lumine..."
His lips moved. Countless feelings and words gathered within his chest and caught in his throat.
In the end, he said only:
"I'm home."
Lumine stared at him, her golden eyes fixed upon his face.
She pressed her lips together but said nothing. Lowering her head, she walked up to Kiyo and rested her face against his chest.
For a long, long time, she remained silent.
She raised one pale hand and clenched it into a fist. She lifted it high, hesitated, and finally brought it down lightly upon Kiyo's shoulder.
Once.
Twice...
The blows were as gentle as a cat kneading his chest.
"Baka." She lowered her eyes. "You came back so late... Dinner is cold."
"...I'm sorry."
Kiyo lowered his head toward her face. They stood so close that their breaths almost mingled.
"I will never leave again," he promised.
"That apology isn't sincere."
Miss Lumine pushed him away with feigned anger. Even so, her fingers remained tightly clenched around his sleeve, blue veins faintly visible beneath skin gone nearly translucent from the force of her grip.
"It isn't sincere," she repeated. "...Give me something that is."
Kiyo gazed at her.
Silver starlight filled her eyes. She was beautiful.
The Sacred Sakura cast shifting shadows around them. Stars and blossoms fell together, each like rain.
"Sincere... What would count as sincere?"
"Baka."
Lumine tightened her hold upon his sleeve and pulled him back.
Their faces drew closer.
Kiyo felt her breath, warm and vividly alive. He heard the beating of their hearts as they embraced beneath the stars, and time seemed to stop around them.
"Your heart is beating so fast," Lumine whispered against his ear.
"There was no heart inside my chest," Kiyo answered softly. "After the stone spear pierced it, my chest was empty."
He looked at her.
"I once lived without a heart or a care," Kiyo said, looking at Lumine. "But when I saw you again, I heard my heart beating once more."
"...Still not sincere enough." A smile played upon Lumine's lips despite her words. "I'm not that easy to win over."
Kiyo turned his face and kissed her cheek.
White starlight draped their shoulders. Cherry blossoms fell around them and formed a thin layer upon the ground.
"Baka."
Lumine's ears turned faintly red, and a blush as brilliant as sunset colored her cheeks.
"I read all your letters," she said. "Everything you wrote in them... Every word in every letter. I want you to say it all to me yourself."
"Those letters cover fifteen hundred years," Kiyo replied. "I cannot finish them now."
—"Then whisper them in my ear for fifteen hundred years."
Miss Lumine turned her face toward him. Rising onto the tips of her toes, she rested her hands upon his shoulders and kissed him.
"Keep saying them for the rest of our lives."
Her cheeks were as pink as the cherry blossoms, but her eyes shone like a field of stars.
"That would be sincere."
"Then... I may never finish the letters."
Kiyo's voice was soft.
"From now on, I will write to you every day. And every day, I will say the words to you myself."
Starlight drew out their shadows and tangled them with those of the Sacred Sakura until no one could tell which belonged to whom.
They seemed to have become one.
"Kiyo Seigan."
At last, Lumine smiled.
Among the starlight and dancing shadows, her smile was brighter than the stars and lovelier than the cherry blossoms.
"The flower you sent me five hundred years ago—I finally saw it today."
The Sacred Sakura stirred the river of stars.
The Sacred Sakura Cleansing Ritual began.
Pure-white radiance swayed downward with the stars, enveloping everyone and all of Inazuma. At that moment, every shadow, sorrow, and despair vanished within the world of white.
—"It truly is beautiful," Miss Lumine said.
—
Lia tilted her head, spilling silver-white hair over one shoulder.
Her golden eyes fixed upon Kiyo, and she frowned.
The great Goddess of Salt had plainly detected the first shoots of heresy. She strongly suspected that Kiyo's faith was beginning to waver.
This was unacceptable.
To the great Heuria, it was entirely unacceptable.
She and Lumine had searched for Kiyo separately. But in the end, Lumine had found him and Lia had not.
That was unacceptable.
Her follower had to be found by his god.
He had to be.
She could not lose him again.
"Kiyo Seigan." She stared into his eyes. "You still owe me one request."
Kiyo did indeed owe Lia a request.
When La Signora hunted Torachiyo, he had borrowed Lia's authority to protect her. Later, Lia had confronted the Tsaritsa for Kiyo's sake, exhausting her power and falling into a deep sleep.
"What is your request?"
Before Kiyo could finish speaking, he froze. His pupils contracted.
Lia seized his collar and pressed one pale hand against his cheek. Her touch was warm and soft. Her delicate nose tested the scent upon him.
She seemed to detect something. Her voice became empty and murderous, and danger entered her eyes.
"I knew it. You smell like that Blondie... I knew it. How foul."
Kiyo instinctively stepped back.
Lia advanced with him and pinned him against the stone wall. Their faces were very close, their long white hair tangling together.
"Lia's scent has to cover it."
The great Goddess of Salt pronounced her divine decree.
She moved closer and pressed her lips to his.
As she kissed Kiyo, waves sounded upon the sea beyond Narukami Island, one rolling over another. It was as though they had returned to those distant summers, when fine sea salt glittered in the light.
"Fifteen hundred years..." Kiyo felt Lia's shoulders trembling.
"But I slept inside that vessel for seventeen hundred."
Lia bit her lip until a trace of blood appeared. Its faint metallic taste reached Kiyo, like tasting the salt of summer.
"You are my only follower," Lia whispered. "Do not leave. Do not make your god... wait another seventeen hundred years. That is my request."
Seventeen hundred years of waiting.
Heuria had never carried less than Kiyo.
"...Lia." Kiyo gathered her gently into his arms. "I am your only follower, and you are my only god... I will not leave my god either."
"Covenant?"
"Covenant."
—
With her face dark, Miss Lumine dragged Lia away and separated the pair.
She had left for only a moment. She had never imagined something like this would happen before she returned.
Her smile did not reach her eyes.
"Have you never heard of first come, first served?"
"Blondie." Lia tilted her head, opening with a taunt.
"You...!"
Miss Lumine bristled like an enraged cat.
"Ladies." Kiyo placed one hand upon Lumine's head and the other upon Lia's. "Everyone is waiting for us."
"...I'll let you off for now," Lumine said through clenched teeth.
"Time to eat! Time to eat!" Paimon clapped happily.
At last, the gathering began.
The guests arrived one after another.
Pure-white cherry blossoms covered the courtyard of the Grand Narukami Shrine. Hundreds of years ago, countless drinking parties had been held there. After the calamity, however, the courtyard had stood desolate for centuries.
Kunikuzushi brought the wine buried at the Pillar General's mansion, which he had personally dug out of the old man's cenotaph. The malt ale had aged for centuries. Its fragrance carried the richness of golden wheat fields stretching ten thousand miles.
Mr. Zhongli brought wine as well—the osmanthus wine he and Kiyo had brewed the year before. Its fragrance lingered beneath the stars and stirred layer upon layer of ripples.
He arrived holding Qiqi's hand.
The little girl carried a heavy jar in her arms, but it contained coconut milk rather than wine. Mr. Zhongli had expressly forbidden underage zombies from drinking alcohol.
The third jar held sakura wine, buried beneath the Sacred Sakura by Kiyo and Hanachirusato. The blossoms had settled into a translucent crimson liquor.
The bard brought wine too. Venti's was a Dandelion Wine unique to Mondstadt, fine flowers fermented together with the liquor and lending it the romance of a poet.
Dinner had gone cold.
So Kiyo prepared the entire table again.
For Miss Fox, he made her favorite Kitsune Udon. The udon and fried tofu released a delicate fragrance. When Yae Miko tasted it, her eyes curved into crescents. Her white teeth bit through the tofu, and warmth spread through her body.
For Lia, there were grilled sardines seasoned with sea salt produced by the Salt Ruler. Once their skin had browned lightly and the tender white flesh showed beneath it, Kiyo scattered a handful of salt crystals over them like snow.
For Lumine, there was smoked mackerel with crisp skin—a dish Kiyo had created especially for her.
Food was the shape of memory.
At last, Lumine possessed one that belonged to her alone.
She was truly happy.
Last came the green dango.
Kiyo had made a promise four hundred years ago.
Now he would fulfill it.
He blanched the mugwort leaves and crushed them, kneaded them evenly into the flour, shaped each piece carefully from glutinous rice, then placed them inside the steamer.
Once finished, the green dango released the distinctive fragrance of mugwort. Its clear aroma seemed to permeate even the night sky.
Raiden Ei gazed at the green dango and lowered her eyes.
She picked up one piece, parted her lips, and placed it in her mouth. It was soft enough to melt upon her tongue, and it tasted wonderful.
The flavor was familiar and strange at once.
Something was missing.
Something else had been added.
Though she had never tasted it before, her heart trembled. An inexplicable emotion—an inexplicable joy—rose within her, and she did not know where it came from.
It left her confused.
Ei took another bite.
Within its mildly sweet aftertaste, she saw a magnificent spring day in Tenshukaku. Tree shadows swayed, cherry blossoms drifted down, and a young guard smiled.
Gradually, Ei understood.
That memory did not belong to her.
That feeling did not come from her heart.
It came from her vessel.
From the Raiden Shogun.
Ei's heart remained empty and desolate. Yet when she lowered her eyes and looked at her reflection in the wine, she discovered a faint smile upon her lips.
The Shogun was smiling.
"I see," Raiden Ei murmured.
What had been missed could not be recovered.
This sweet had not been made for her, because it no longer contained milk.
She savored the fragrance lingering upon her lips, and the flavor absent from it.
After one final bite, she closed her eyes.
The gathering was truly lively.
After several rounds of wine, they began playing the old games: guessing karuta cards, composing linked waka, and trading drinking challenges.
Venti could hold her liquor.
She drank cup after cup with Kiyo, a warm and radiant smile never leaving her lips.
It was as though she had returned to three thousand years ago—
beneath that tower, yet in the place closest to the sky, walking through that age together in search of a single feather from a bird.
The covenant had been kept.
Kiyo also performed a sword dance with Mikoshi Chiyo. Five hundred years after their last, the light of their blades stirred layer upon layer of flower shadows.
"You won this time."
Chiyo released her sword. A smile rested upon her lips as she looked earnestly at Kiyo.
"You won."
I won.
Kiyo smiled as well.
He had failed through so many lives and struggled across thousands of years of recurrence.
But this time, in his contest against fate—
he had finally won.
The night gradually dispersed. The morning stars grew sparse, and pale light appeared at the limits of sight. Dawn rose between the clouds and sea.
Day was about to break.
This was a new day.
The erroneous past had finally crossed the boundary of dusk and replaced reality. Once today had passed, everything would begin anew.
The wine was almost gone.
Miss Lumine poured the final two cups of sakura wine and handed one to Kiyo.
She was slightly tipsy, and her cheeks were faintly red. But her eyes shone brighter than ever.
Behind her, the sun rose from between mountain and sea.
Kiyo's face was reflected in her golden eyes.
"A toast," Lumine said.
Kiyo accepted the cup.
"What are we drinking to? We should toast something."
"...To the man without a heart or a care."
"That is a very strange toast." Kiyo shook his head with a wry smile.
He looked toward the sunrise and fell into thought beneath the clearing sky.
From Inazuma to Liyue, and then back to Inazuma.
Every person, every event, every covenant...
Every journey he had taken.
Morning light spread them all before him until every story became clear and translucent beneath the sun.
The old world was disappearing.
A new world was being born—a beautiful world of pure white in which everyone had been saved, glittering within the immaculate sunlight.
"All my 'Seigan'," Kiyo said at last. "At last, I have fulfilled them all... I did it."
"And?" Lumine tilted her head.
"Then let us drink to Seigan." He smiled.
"Hey, isn't that just drinking to you?" Lumine blinked. "You're taking advantage of me."
"Then what should we drink to?"
"Add Lumine." A mischievous light entered her eyes. "Add Lumine, and drink to Seigan and Lumine."
"...What am I to do with you?"
Kiyo gave a helpless smile and raised his cup.
Within the world of pure white, beneath the newborn dawn, two cups met with a clear note.
"To Seigan and Lumine."
—"To Seigan and Lumine."