Back in the wagon, Yoshika and Rika joined Jung, Narae, and Ja Yun in meditation. It was a little bit crowded, but the carriage was large enough to fit all of them. Once inside, Yoshika had put up a sound-blocking barrier spell, prompting a curious look from Rika.

“What’s this for?”

Yoshika took a seat on the floor of the wagon, her bodies side by side as she gestured for Rika to join her.

“We’re going to start off with something small. It will be similar to what you asked, but less dangerous—we think.”

Rika chuckled as she took a seat and completed the circle between the three of them.

“You think? I thought we were being careful, but this sounds like your typical charge forward to me.”

Yoshika let out an indignant huff and pouted.

“That’s hardly fair! The technique itself is perfectly safe—we’re just worried about how it might interact with the cores. It should be safer than just jumping straight into joint meditation, at least—an extra step removed.”

“And you’re dodging the actual question, so I’m guessing I won’t like the answer.”

“Tsk, stop being so observant. The privacy spell is there because the technique we’re going to use functions through sound. We’ve never tried it on another person before, and we don’t want to get anyone else caught up in it.”

Rika whistled appreciatively.

“A sound-based technique? Wow, I didn’t think you knew any except for Yue’s.”

Yoshika averted her eyes, staring awkwardly down at her laps.

“We...don’t. The technique we’re going to use on you is the Melody of the Dreaming Moon, as we learned it from Yan Yue.”

Rika narrowed her eyes dangerously.

“You’re going to use Yan Yue’s technique on me? The one that she uses to trap people in dreams that she can control and puppet their bodies around?”

Yoshika coughed awkwardly.

“Um, yes. It doesn’t work that way for us—spiritual techniques tend to be a bit different for everyone. For Ishihara, he can read and alter memories—”

“Oh, that is not making me more comfortable with this.”

“Ours isn’t like that. For us it—well, you’ll see. We promise it won’t hurt you.”

Rika sighed, shaking her head.

“Of course it won’t—I know you’d never do anything to harm me. That doesn’t mean I’m not a little weirded out about the idea of you using that technique on me—how does this relate to joint meditation, anyway?”

“You’ll understand if it works. Are you ready to begin?”

“I guess so, sure. What do I do?”

“Just close your eyes and listen. Open yourself up to the sound.”

Rika closed her eyes and adopted a meditative pose. Yoshika took Rika’s hands in hers, forming a circle between Jia, Eui, and Rika. Circulating the essence through her soul, Yoshika infused both of her voices with qi and began to sing a wordless harmony. The slow, haunting melody filled their little bubble of privacy, and though it had no words, it carried a deep meaning. The song was Yoshika—an audible representation of her entire being, from her body and soul, to her domain and the connections that she had formed.

As she sang, the world appeared to shift around them. The wagon, Ja Yun, and Jia’s sisters all disappeared—replaced by a rolling grassy field and a mountain in the distance. The illusion was intensely vivid—Yoshika could feel the sun on her face, the grass beneath her, and the wind in her hair. Rika gasped and opened her eyes in shock at the sudden shift. She stood up and gawked at her surroundings.

“Yoshika, what—what is this? It almost looks like—”

She froze as her eyes settled on Yoshika’s face—her only one. Gone were Jia and Eui, replaced by a single body that combined them both. Yoshika’s spirit form had black hair with streaks of white running all the way down to her ankles, heterochromic eyes—one gold, the other red—and a single glossy black horn curving up slightly off-center over her right eye, where Eui’s brand would have been. Her flowing dress-robes were accented by a few tasteful accessories and a flowing ghostly scarf that was draped lightly across her shoulders. She blushed under Rika’s intense scrutiny.

“Uh, hello. This is me—us, that is.”

Rika continued to stare, slack-jawed for a moment before she finally found her words.

“Yoshika...you’re—you’re so cute!”

Before Yoshika could protest, Rika swept her up into a tight hug, fawning over her enthusiastically.

“Oh kami, look at you! Those eyes, that hair—what is this cute little horn? It’s adorable! How did you do this? You combined your bodies?”

“N-not exactly, no. What you’re seeing is a representation of my soul.”

Rika raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Really? I guess that makes sense—and this place? It kinda looks like the area around the academy—that’s the Forbidden Peak in the distance, right?”

“Well, like I said—what you’re seeing is a representation of my soul. Everything you’re seeing.”

“Wait, everything? This field, that mountain, the sky—is that a moon? It’s broad daylight.”

Yoshika nodded.

“All of it is me.”

Rika looked askance at Yoshika.

“‘Me’? Not ‘us’? You normally refer to yourself with ‘we’ or ‘us.’”

“Mm. I guess I just don’t feel like that when I’m here—not that I come here often.”

“You don’t come to your own soul often?”

Yoshika covered her mouth and giggled.

“Not like this, no. I visualize it when I’m cultivating, so that I can continue to build it up, but I haven’t visited it like this in a long time.”

“Okay—and where’s the academy? It should be right here, shouldn’t it?”

“It is, look.”

Rika followed Yoshika’s gaze and took a startled step back when she saw the academy campus gates looming right behind her.

“Wha—that was not there before! I looked!”

Yoshika shrugged, smiling sardonically.

“It was, but perspective is a little strange in my soulscape. Think of it like a dream—that is the name of the technique after all.”

Rika nodded.

“Right—it was so vivid that I almost forgot this is an illusion. Just a dream, right?”

Yoshika averted her eyes awkwardly.

“R-right. Sort of, anyway. Let me show you around!”

Leading Rika through the academy streets, they began to see familiar faces, bustling aimlessly to and fro, providing the illusion of a busy campus. Rika’s face lit up in a grin as she started inspecting the illusory people in Yoshika’s soulscape.

“Hey, I know these people! Some of them are a bit faded and faceless, but I can somehow still recognize them. These are the academy students, right?”

“Not exclusively, no. Some of them are people that I knew before Jia and Eui met. You might not want to examine them too closely, a few are—”

Rika gasped, cutting Yoshika off.

“Kami, is this one of Yan Zhihao’s lackeys? The ones that got burned up by that fire elemental?”

Yoshika nodded gravely.

“Yeah...the people here are all people that I care about in some way. Connections that I’ve formed, made real by my domain. That includes people I’ve wronged, or whose deaths I feel responsible for.”

Rika started moving from face to face in morbid fascination. Yoshika grimaced as she recoiled from one of them.

“Oh! That man had his throat slit, what the hell?”

“Eui was a bandit for a year before making it to the academy—that’s one of her victims.”

“Ah, that makes sense. And who’s this? Woah, you’ve even got Yan Zhihao here? Why? He was a dick to you constantly.”

Yoshika was a bit surprised by how nonchalant Rika was about all this, but tried to take it in stride.

“I still didn’t mean for him to die—or any of his friends, for that matter. I feel responsible for all of them, so I remember them with this place.”

“Huh.”

Rika shrugged, and continued to gawk at the soulscape as they proceeded towards the center. The closer they got to their destination, the clearer the faces of the people became, and Rika’s smile grew yet wider as she recognized each phantom.

“Hey, it’s Kim Yongsun! I’d know that tiger face anywhere! Xin Wei and Guan Yi—I wonder what those two are up to these days? Oooh! Hi Kaede!”

The phantom image of Hayakawa Kaede did not respond to Rika, simply continuing to wander aimlessly—an expression of tight, purposeful focus on her face. Rika giggled.

“You got her down pat. Hey, where are we going, anyway?”

They’d nearly reached the center of the soulscape, but rather than the academy’s central courtyard, the area around them shifted to the girls’ dormitories. Yoshika pointed ahead of them to a quaint little house that stood out from the ones around it—despite being identical.

“Home. The bastion of my soul—the center of my being. This is my safest place, where I keep the things that are most important to me.”

Just outside the house, they saw clear images of Seong Eunae and Hyeong Daesung flanking the entrance. Rika froze at the sight of Eunae, her breath hitching for a moment before she cleared her throat and turned back to Yoshika with a playful grin.

“Should I be surprised to see Dae here? I thought you rejected him.”

Yoshika shrugged.

“He’s still one of my closest friends, along with you and Eunae.”

Rika blushed a bit, but frowned as she cast a searching gaze around their surroundings.

“Um, speaking of which—I couldn’t help but notice that I don’t seem to be included among your population of friend-ghosts. I mean—I guess I could have just missed it in the crowd, but—”

“What do you mean?”

Yoshika leveled an intense stare at Rika, stepping forward and reaching up to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Rika, you’re right here. The images are just representations—placeholders. I don’t need an image of you when you’re already here with me, in the flesh.”

Rika’s tanned features began to turn bright red.

“But not—literally, right? This is an illusion created by your technique. I’m actually just sitting on the floor of the wagon.”

Yoshika hesitated.

“Yes—technically. Your body should still be safely where you left it.”

Rika started to go a bit pale.

“Y-Yoshika, why did you say it like that? You’re starting to make me nervous.”

“Uh, it’s hard to explain. I don’t entirely understand it myself, but I think that my version of the Melody of the Dreaming Moon forms a bridge between us, connecting our souls together. You are actually here—or your spirit form is, anyway. In theory it should be possible for me to visit your soulscape as well, if you let me in.”

“Okay...okay, sure. I—you really probably should have mentioned this ahead of time.”

Yoshika grimaced apologetically.

“Yeah...sorry. You were already nervous since the technique came from Yue, and I was a little worried that you’d subconsciously reject the technique if you didn’t know it was safe. I can’t stress enough that this only works with the full cooperation of someone I have a strong bond with.”

“Right, okay. A little more trust next time?”

“Alright, sorry again. Anyway, would you like to come inside?”

Yoshika approached the door, hesitating at the threshold. Rika noticed the pause and gave her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

Yoshika smiled nervously.

“Um, I just realized that inviting you into the physical representation of the inner chambers of my heart and soul is a slightly bigger deal than I had considered.”

Rika blushed again.

“Oh! Is—is that like, symbolic of something?”

Yoshika shrugged.

“Maybe—probably not what you’re thinking, though. Whatever, you’ll understand when you see inside.”

“So...we’re still doing this then—oh!”

Before she could change her mind, Yoshika threw open the door to her home and stepped inside, ushering Rika in. The inside was almost entirely as Yoshika remembered it—a long tea table next to a magical stove, flanked by a pair of comfortable couches. A small kitchenette slightly removed from the living area, and a doorway leading out into the small garden courtyard.

The figures inside did not appear as phantoms—each one as solid and perfectly defined as they were in life. Jung was busy in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled divine. Out in the courtyard, Narae played in the grass while Yue fussed over the tea growing in her garden. Sprawled out on the couch, Heian lay sleeping in her human form, with her cat form curled up on her chest—which gave Yoshika a moment of pause. She didn’t have time to think about it however, as the occupants of the other couch noticed her entry.

A pure white silhouette of a cat with impenetrably deep golden eyes stretched languidly, pretending not to have noticed their arrival. Atop its head, a black rat with beady red eyes stared directly at them. Yoshika’s spirit halves. Finishing its stretch, the white cat hopped down and approached. It spoke without moving its mouth, and its voice was like Jia’s—if she had taken lessons in condescension from Yan Yue.

“At last, we have chosen to look within once more. We should have guessed it would require inviting yet another stray inside to do so. Come and have a seat, children—we have much to discuss.”