It was a little disappointing that Yoshika hadn’t managed to complete the research she was doing with Dae, but he was quick to remind her that arcane progress was a journey without end, and that any progress was something to be proud of. Yoshika took the opportunity to try out the soul-sight formation herself and found that it was a familiar experience—almost exactly as she remembered from the times that she had traveled in spirit form with her Steps of the Stalker technique. With her sight enhanced by the formation, she could see the true extent of it—an artful multidimensional pattern of fractal spirals, intricately interspersed with a dense script of characters that went far beyond mere language.

Her own experimental formation—already a work of art in its own right—was almost painfully obviously unfinished now that she could see the spirit world. The gaps were obvious, and though she had no clue how to fill them, she at least finally had something to work towards. Yoshika made sure to carefully memorize both formations with Absolute Awareness so that she would be able to replicate them later.

Before stepping out of the formation, Yoshika took a quick peek at Heian and Dae with her soul-sight. Heian’s human form was shadowed by the silhouette of a prowling panther—a projected impression of the greater spirit she had fragmented from. Dae’s soul was harder to describe, and she could see why he had been so stunned at the sight of her own. Soul-sight, like many things associated with spirits, was a strange, conceptual thing. What Yoshika saw wasn’t something ‘seen’ at all, just something that her mind attempted to translate into something comprehensible.

Dae was loyalty, passion, and enthusiasm—how was Yoshika to describe the shape of such things? Nevertheless, that was what she saw, a visual impression of a domain that he hadn’t even formed yet—an incomplete image. She could also see the bond between them as an actual tangible part of her own soul connected to his. Standing in the formation that he had worked so hard with her to complete, seeing the essence of his soul and the bond that linked them together, Yoshika had a moment of inspiration. She wanted to immortalize that moment—to inscribe it into her personal artifact as a representation of her friendship with Dae.

Unfortunately, Yoshika had to hold on to that memory for another time as they were interrupted by one of Rika’s projections manifesting by the door and raising a hand in greeting. Strangely, even under soul-sight the projection just looked like Rika.

“Good morning! Wow, have you guys been at it all night?”

Dae coughed once and averted his eyes.

“W-well, we had a limited timeframe. We’ve made good progress!”

“Great! You’re gonna need to wrap it up, though. We’re getting ready to leave in a few hours and that captain guy has been really snippy about not accepting any further delays. By the way, Jia—or uh, Yoshika—Hayakawa wanted to talk to you in private before we move out.”

Yoshika grimaced. She’d been avoiding Hayakawa after the incident with Seung, and they’d hardly spoken a word, other than the initial chastisement Hayakawa had given them.

“Alright, I guess I’ll go see her once we’ve cleaned up here.”

Rika flashed her a sympathetic grin.

“Good luck with that! She’s been kinda moody the last few days. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it, I’ve got some other stuff to do, myself.”

Her message delivered, Rika’s projection simply vanished. Yoshika stepped out of the formation and sighed with both of her bodies. With their work finished for now, Yoshika let herself relax a little bit and split her mind. Jia stretched the stiffness out of her joints and turned to offer Dae a conciliatory smile.

“Well, I guess I’d better go see what Hayakawa wants. Do you mind if I leave the cleanup here to you?”

“Not at all Miss...Jia? I think I’m getting the hang of figuring out whether you two have merged your thoughts.”

Jia nodded.

“Good guess! Is this goodbye for now, or will you be seeing us off?”

“I’ve got a few things to discuss with Miss Hayakawa myself, so we will likely see each other once more before you leave.”

“Okay, we’ll see you then!”

Dae gave them a polite bow in farewell, which Jia and Eui returned. Heian, seeing that they were done playing with magic, decided to return to Yoshika’s soulscape to rest while Jia and Eui left to see what Hayakawa needed them for.

Jia paused in front of Hayakawa’s room, feeling nervous in a way she couldn’t quite place her finger on. It’s not like she was particularly concerned about Hayakawa’s disapproval—ancestors, she’d slapped the woman in the face shortly before outright rejecting her offer of friendship. Jia was well aware that her relationship with Hayakawa was strictly a matter of business. Their goals happened to align, and so they would work together as long as that continued to be the case. Why then, did she find herself so concerned about this upcoming discussion?

Gathering her nerves, Jia knocked politely on the door. Hayakawa’s voice came through at a normal speaking volume—she knew that Jia would be able to hear her.

“Come in Miss Lee.”

Jia and Eui entered the room and found Hayakawa buried under a veritable mountain of paperwork. She sat at a small table, slowly working through the mountain of forms and stamping each one with her seal. She didn’t look up from her work as she spoke.

“Miss Lee, how in the world does your country function with so much bureaucracy getting in the way of things? I’ve been doing this all morning—it’s insufferable.”

Jia shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really experienced this aspect of it before. You don’t really need to prove your identity when nobody knows who you are. Besides, I bet Tae In-Su would be just as incredulous at Yamato’s lack of recordkeeping.”

Hayakawa snorted in an uncharacteristically unladylike manner.

“As a matter of fact, he was. He’s the one who prepared most of this nonsense for me to sign. I suppose I should thank him for that, but it’s hard to be grateful for so much busywork.”

Jia nodded slowly, a little confused by the smalltalk. Eui stepped in to cut to the heart of the matter, as was her wont.

“Hayakawa, you didn’t call us here to bitch about paperwork. What do you want?”

Hayakawa’s hands stopped for a bare moment before she sighed, sparing Eui a disapproving glance.

“You needn’t be so rude, Miss An. I know you like to push the limits of authority, but contrary to what you might think, I don’t relish my position. I’d much rather interact as equals—I miss that about the academy.”

Eui scoffed.

“Could have fooled me.”

Hayakawa paused again, ever so briefly, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“Mm, I suppose that’s part of what I wanted to discuss. I won’t defend my behavior from back then, but I think we should set the record straight—you two weren’t exactly kind to me either. All three of us have much to answer for.”

Eui crossed her arms, and Jia recognized the angry snarl beginning to form in her lover’s throat. Before Eui could say something too inflammatory, Jia stepped forward, frowning at Hayakawa as she spoke.

“What do you mean? Last I recall, you were the one who tried to take advantage of us, repeatedly refused to treat us as equals, and slammed me into the dirt just to make a point.”

Hayakawa put her brush down and met Jia’s eyes, giving her full attention.

“All true, and as I said, I have no intention of trying to defend my behavior. However, after giving it some thought, I believe that I have overcorrected. You once delivered me an ultimatum after laying your feelings bare. You may not realize it, but that moment affected me greatly—I have dwelled on it often over the years.”

Jia was taken aback by Hayakawa’s tone. It was soft—almost sad, despite her carefully neutral expression.

“It’s from that moment—the strength you displayed that day—that I now take my inspiration. If you’ll listen, I’d like to offer you a list of my grievances.”

Jia almost giggled—it was such a bizarrely formal way to talk about one’s feelings. It was only the complicated cocktail of turbulent emotions that she felt from Hayakawa that kept her serious. Hayakawa was using formality as a way to protect herself—a mask behind which she hid her true feelings.

“Um, okay? Go ahead, I guess.”

Hayakawa nodded, then took a moment to collect her thoughts. When she spoke, her voice was deliberate and concise—as if she’d written and rehearsed them.

“First, in the interest of context, I’d like to explain a bit about my own upbringing. Naturally, my past is not nearly as fraught as either of yours, but I was taught growing up that strength is everything. To be a leader, I had to be strong, and in order to maintain the respect of those who followed me, I could not be allowed to show any weakness. Do you know what it’s like to try to make friends without ever showing any vulnerability?”

Jia’s frown deepened as she considered that. She had already guessed that Hayakawa was obsessed with the appearance of strength, but she had assumed that her refusal to make friends had been an extension of that. Hayakawa went on without giving her a chance to respond.

“It’s impossible. The only people who would ‘befriend’ someone like that are simpering sycophants like—no, I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Miyata Toshiharu might have been the closest thing I had to a friend. He truly did care for me, in his own way—but it wasn’t what I wanted. I began to see friendship as something alien to me, something I could never have. Any allies would be beneath me, and any equals would be my enemies and rivals. So I believed until I encountered the two of you—and your insufferable little friend, Yan Yue. You know, she might be the only person I have ever truly hated.”

Eui smirked sardonically.

“She does tend to have that effect on people.”

Jia shook her head.

“What does Yue have to do with this? By your standards, she was your enemy, wasn’t she?”

Hayakawa nodded.

“She was, yes, but that wasn’t why I hated her—my feelings were much more petty than that. I hated Yan Yue because she spoke the truth. Because after a single meeting, she seemed to understand me better than I understood myself, and I rejected the truth that she saw in me. I was afraid of friendship, because it required me to be vulnerable, and vulnerability would make me weak. I feared the possibility of betrayal, yet I longed for the comfort of companionship. It was a paradox of conflicting feelings, and I rejected all of it—rationalized it away. It wasn’t until you showed me the strength required to truly open up to another and bare your feelings that I realized how weak I truly was. Even with that lesson learned, it wasn’t until years later that I truly understood.”

Though she kept a straight face, a tremor had crept into Hayakawa’s voice. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then locked eyes with Jia.

“Now, with that out of the way, I believe I promised a list of grievances. Miss Lee—Lee Jia, for as long as we have known each other, you have consistently and mercilessly trampled on my feelings. More than Yan Yue, who was rude and condescending when invited into my home. More than An Eui, who is always so eager to speak truth to power. You above all others have been unrelentingly cruel in your interactions with me, and I don’t think you even realize it.”

Jia felt her face heating up. She didn’t know what to say, or how to react to Hayakawa’s accusations. The fact that she was speaking so calmly only added to the confusion—it felt like she should have been shouting. Hayakawa shook her head and sighed.

“I can see just from looking at you that you still don’t understand. Consider, Lee Jia, that just because I don’t like to show my emotions doesn’t mean I do not have them. You have seen me smile and laugh, you have seen me angry, you have even seen—seen me cry. Few others in this world have.”

Hayakawa’s breath hitched slightly, but she went on, still maintaining her calm veneer.

“When we were still in the academy and I tried to recruit you, it hurt when you accused me of manipulation and patronization. When we met again after the descent, I tried to apologize for my behavior, and you struck me. I understand why, but it still hurt. When you rejected my offer of friendship, it hurt. And now, when you reveal that you don’t even trust me enough to help you keep your family safe—that hurts, Jia.”

Hayakawa Kaede wiped at her moistening eyes with a shaking hand and swallowed hard. Jia and Eui could only stare in stunned silence while Hayakawa carefully composed herself once again, blinking back tears and meeting each of their gazes in turn.

“I’m only human, Miss Lee, Miss An. Please try to remember that in the future. That’s all I wanted to say.”