Morning broke over Inazuma, the skies washed clear by the night's rain. Droplets still clung to the rooftops, and birds sang in crisp harmony.
Ji Bai sat in the quiet east courtyard of the Kamisato estate, a brush in hand, eyes fixed on a blank scroll spread before him. A pressure lingered in the air—an invisible force from Tenshukaku above, like lightning yet to strike.
"After last night... she really knows I'm here."
He murmured under his breath, fingers trembling—not from fear, but from a sharpened awareness unlike any he'd felt before.
From beyond the corridor, Kamisato Ayaka stepped into the garden, holding a sealed letter, freshly delivered. Her expression remained composed, but her voice dropped low.
"Lady Yae has sent word—Tenshukaku has already dispatched someone to monitor you."
Ji Bai's gaze was calm. "Lady Kujou Sara?"
"She hasn't shown herself," Ayaka said with a slight shake of her head. "It's the 'Kage Unit.' Their movements are shadowy—so silent even our estate's guards didn't notice. Lady Yae intercepted this message herself."
Ji Bai accepted the envelope, but did not open it. Instead, he laid it flat on his knee.
"So... the Tenryou Commission no longer intends to wait."
Ayaka looked at him for a long moment. "Do you regret it?"
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he glanced toward the distant thunderclouds. "If a single painting can disturb a god, why should I hide my hand?"
"But if the Shogun summons you directly, and you answer wrong—"
"I am ready."
Ji Bai stood, his gaze turning toward the old Raiden Sakura tree that swayed gently in the garden breeze.
"If I choose to paint, then I will not retreat."
—
That night, beneath the shadowed foot of Mt. Yougou, a black-clad figure emerged silently from the Grand Narukami Shrine.
He moved like mist across rooftops, barely touching tile or wood. His eyes glowed faint violet, and the sigil of thunder glinted on his chest—the mark of the Kage Unit, the Shogun's elite covert agents.
He perched on the roofline outside the Kamisato estate, peering through the narrow slits of a paper door.
The boy sat beneath a lamp in the garden, grinding ink, unguarded—as if expecting to be watched.
Suddenly, Ji Bai's brush struck the paper. A single line flowed—and lightning flared, dancing an inch from his fingertips.
The agent's pupils contracted. He instinctively withdrew—but his feet halted on a ring of purple ink sigils, glowing faintly.
"A formation... drawn with ink?!"
Behind him, a calm voice rang out:
"You came too late."
Ji Bai stood beneath the lantern light, holding his scroll, voice composed. "Tell your master: I have never defied her. I only record what is real."
The agent froze. The ink markings slowly receded. The world returned to silence.
He was unharmed—but shaken.
—
Far above, lightning cracked through the sky.
Within the inner sanctum of Tenshukaku, the Raiden Shogun opened her eyes, her voice flat:
"He knows we're watching."
Sara bowed low. "Shall we continue?"
The Shogun's gaze lowered, thoughtful.
"Continue."