Yue took a deep breath as Yoshika finished filling in the missing details of her story.

“By the emperor, Yoshika. I should have guessed you’d be more involved in this than I thought. There are, of course, a number of discrepancies with what I’ve been told, but for the most part your story matches up.”

Yoshika frowned.

“What have you been told, exactly?”

“Not as much as I’d like. The demons supposedly invaded in order to obtain some hidden artifact that an ancient demon locked away on our world. Sovereign Shen is here to stop them, and graciously remove the artifact so that it can be properly destroyed or sealed away.”

“Except that’s not even remotely close. Sovereign Chou was a human, as far as I know—though a pretty reprehensible one. And the artifact he left behind is the only thing keeping our world from withering away within the seal that Shen and his allies put it under.”

Yue bit her thumbnail and furrowed her brows.

“Mm. That’s one of the discrepancies, and I’m honestly not sure what to believe. Everything I know is second hand—obtained from spies and double-agents within the other sects—but Shen claims that the artifact itself is what suppresses our world.”

“You don’t think he’s telling the truth, do you?”

“Absolutely not, but I have no reason to believe your demon is, either. If the artifact is as powerful as they claim, then either case seems plausible. One thing they seem to agree on is that only houtian ranked cultivators can enter the tomb.”

Yoshika nodded.

“That’s why Jianmo recruited me. They don’t really care about the artifact itself much, they just don’t want to be trapped here anymore.”

Yue grimaced.

“It’s a bit far-fetched that Jianmo would instigate all of this out of boredom, I think. But I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if Sovereign Shen coveted the power of the tear for himself. What about these elementals you’ve aligned yourself with, what do you think they want?”

“Exactly what they say they do. The way elementals communicate thought-to-thought—I’m not sure they even fully grasp the concept of deception. They just spit out a bunch of facts and expect the listener to come to the same conclusions as them. They’re smart, but alien.”

“So Shen wants the artifact, but he has to use proxies to get it. Jianmo wants it too—at least for the sake of opening up a way out of our world—which somewhat matches what the elementals want, which is simply for it to be removed and the seal on our world destroyed. What the elementals have said also seems to support the idea that Jianmo has been telling the truth—or at least more of the truth than Shen.”

She tapped her long nails impatiently on the tea table, frowning in contemplation.

“But there are still a lot of unknowns. Yan De is ostensibly cooperating with Sovereign Shen to gather candidates to enter the tomb, but I know him. He’ll have worked out that there’s more to what Shen is saying, and he’ll be setting his sights beyond whatever he’s been promised.

“Then there’s the God-Emperor himself. His absolute power has been thrown into question by Shen’s presence, but he’s been as silent as ever, beyond giving Shen near total authority to do as he wishes. He must have a stake in it, but guessing at his motivations is well beyond me.”

Yoshika smiled sympathetically as Yue got herself more worked up.

“Let’s try to take this one thing at a time, Yue. Guessing at Emperor Qin or Do Hye’s intentions will just leave us going in circles.”

“Do Hye! I’d almost entirely forgotten about the bloody Snake! He’s definitely got his finger on the scales, wherever he is.”

“I don’t doubt it, but right now our main concern is your father trying to take over Xin’s sect.”

Yue took a deep breath, squeezing Heian tightly to her side and stroking her cat form’s fur to calm down.

“No. The wedding is still nearly half a year away. Right now our main concern is the fact that it’s your birthday, and after that your sister’s illness. Then perhaps training and preparation for when the time comes to enter the tomb, coordinating with your allies abroad—good job recruiting Hayakawa Kaede, by the way—and then finally dealing with my father’s machinations. As you say...one thing at a time.”

Yoshika blushed.

“I guess it is around Jia’s birthday, but Eui turned twenty last spring. And I’m a bit more concerned about Jung’s condition than celebrating arbitrary age milestones.”

“You’ve come to the right place. After the dissolution of the dedicated healing sects, this place became a haven for the best qi healers on the continent—perhaps even the world. Why, Xin Wei’s mother is—well, you’ll see when you meet her tomorrow. I think you can probably consider the matter resolved.”

“Well that’s certainly a relief, but I’ll withhold judgment until I see it for myself.”

Yue shrugged.

“Perfectly reasonable. In the meantime, I think the most pressing issue before us is simply the fact that we haven’t spoken in so long. The sect is lovely, and there are more women cultivators here than anywhere else I’ve been, but I’ve been starved of good company.”

Yoshika snorted.

“Maybe you’re just setting your standards too high.”

“Or maybe you’ve just set too high a bar for anyone else to match.”

“Flatterer. Fine then, you’re right that there’s nothing urgent that we need to resolve right this second, so let’s catch up. How did you end up engaged to Xin Wei of all people?”

Yue rolled her eyes.

“It’s not nearly as interesting as your story, but I suppose I can fill you in on what I’ve been up to...”

The two of them quickly fell into easy conversation as they caught up on the three years they’d spent apart.

It was relaxing in a way that Yoshika hadn’t even realized she needed. Yan Yue had never been her closest friend in the academy—Rika, Eunae, or even Dae were all much closer—but spending a year under the same roof with Yue had caused them to develop a sort of casual companionship that they’d taken for granted until it was gone.

They were used to having someone to share their thoughts with. A friend with whom they could speak openly and freely, and expect a truly unfiltered dialogue. For better or worse, Yue never held back—unapologetically telling them exactly what she thought about any given decision.

“Are you insane or just stupid?! An avatar?!”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

“The hell it did! It was just the first idea you came up with, wasn’t it? Would you burn down a forest just to slay a spider?”

Yoshika scowled.

“What about you?! Splitting off portions of your actual soul for astral projection?! Do you have any idea how vulnerable that leaves you? I thought you were more risk averse.”

“Tsk, well if only I’d realized sooner that I could bypass that weakness by just creating an entire person!”

Sometimes, that meant that they fought or argued—but sometimes, that’s what they needed. So much of their relationship had been defined by Yue's desperate attempts to make up for her deception and betrayal that they’d ended up silently adopting a policy of brutal honesty and openness that Yoshika didn’t have with anyone but herself. She could always count on Yue to call her out on her flaws, and vice versa.

“...still can’t believe your idea of a good marriage is one in which you can safely have an affair!”

Yue rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please! We all know how much of a sham this engagement is, and I don’t think Xin Wei is even interested in women.”

Yoshika leaned forward eagerly.

“Wait, what?”

“Oh? Developed a taste for gossip, have you? That’s new.”

“Shut up! Actually, don’t shut up, tell me everything!”

Yue giggled.

“Well, let’s just say that after spending so much time under the same roof with you two deviants, I learned to read a sign or two...”

With anyone else, Yoshika might have bristled at being called deviant, but Yue made it sound like a term of endearment.

The conversation went on and on through the night, rapidly moving from topic to topic, circling back on itself, and shifting in mood. It was almost as if they really were trying to cram three years worth of missed conversations into a single night.

By the time the sun rose, they were still going, and Yoshika realized that even though Yue had not always been her closest friend, somehow she’d been the one that Yoshika had missed the most.

It was almost unfair. Yan Yue had betrayed her once—hurt her on a level that went deeper than even the scar that Eunae had left on her soul. Sometimes, Yoshika could close her eyes and still feel the pain of Jia and Eui’s souls being forcibly torn apart. Compared to that, what was a short year spent living together in uneasy harmony?

Quite a lot, apparently. Had Qin Zhao planned for that? Somehow measured their compatibility when he forced them together? Was it just a coincidence? Fate? Yoshika didn’t know or care—she just knew with absolute certainty that Yan Yue was her best friend.

“I love you, Yue.”

Yue froze in the middle of what she was saying. Yoshika hadn’t even meant to say anything—she’d just randomly blurted it out without thinking. A blush crept across Yue’s features as she stared at Yoshika in shock.

“W-well, I—I’m flattered, of course. B-but, um, you know that I don’t...”

Now it was Yoshika’s turn to blush.

“Not—not like that! Ancestors, three years ago I’d have slapped you for even joking about that. I just meant—I guess I already knew since you’re here. You’re like family to me—which is important enough to be part of my domain now, so yeah. I just really missed this.”

Yue looked around at their humble abode. Yoshika had long since changed it back, and though she occasionally changed the scene for emphasis, she’d always brought it back to their cozy little slice of privacy.

“The feeling is mutual. What...is this, anyway? At first I thought it was just an illusion created by Melody of the Dreaming Moon, but there’s more to this, isn’t there?”

Yoshika nodded, thankful for the change of subject.

“It’s only partly an illusion. The technique creates a bridge between our souls and lets you experience our soulscape directly—well, not directly, since it’s filtered through illusions. In theory it should work both ways, but nobody else we’ve met has such a well-developed soulscape.”

“That’s...a significant departure from any other manifestation of the technique that I’ve ever heard of. It also sounds like it has terrible abuse potential—you’re giving anyone who hears the song direct access to your soul.”

“No, it only works with people I’ve already formed a bond with, and even then the only people allowed this deep are the people I care about most. Heian, my parents and sisters, Rika, and you. Maybe Eunae, one day, but that’s kind of complicated.”

Yue raised an eyebrow at her curiously.

“I can only imagine. Though I was always under the impression that you were closer to Eunae than Takeda.”

Yoshika hesitated. The one thing that she hadn’t brought up was the scar that Eunae’s inner spirit had left on her soul. Yue had always been suspicious and fearful of Eunae, even if they had eventually reconciled enough to become friends. She would almost certainly overreact.

At the same time...Yoshika needed a confidant. She needed to express her doubts to someone who wouldn’t be judged or hurt by them. Above everything else—she needed to prove to herself that she could.

“When I learned how to feel my divine spark during Rika’s breakthrough, I did it with the help of Eunae’s inner spirit—a fragment of the kumiho.”

Yue inhaled sharply, but said nothing—practically holding her breath as she waited for Yoshika to go on.

“The kumiho wasn’t very gentle about it. I managed to steal some of her Soulfire, but in exchange...”

The scenery around them twisted until they were standing on nothing, a dark void stretching out infinitely in every direction. Between them, a swirling vortex of pure existence hovered—the most raw representation of Yoshika’s soul that she could envision. There, marring its impossibly dazzling chaos of color, was a single streak of dull green. A deep scar left by the kumiho’s cruel manipulation.

“I do love Eunae. She’s almost as close a friend to me as you are but...this. No matter how much I tell myself it doesn’t matter, it does. The more certain I am that Eunae is my friend, the less certain I can be. I...I just can’t take that last step.”

Yue didn’t say anything. She closed the distance between them in an instant and threw her arms around Yoshika, squeezing her tightly.

“You idiot. You utter moron. You absolute creature!”

Yoshika chuckled at the half-hearted insults, but the tears streaming down Yue’s face sobered her in an instant. Yue held her by the shoulders and stared solemnly into her eyes.

“You should have led with this, stupid! Never mind everything we said before. This is our top priority.”