Tucked under Sagume's arm was a satchel containing her most precious possessions. There weren't many of them. Her residence had always been sparsely furnished, and once she'd started trying to pick out specific items, she'd realized just how few of her belongings she really cared about. Most of the bag was taken up with a few essentials: A flask of water, a little food, and a bag of purification salts just in case she got cold feet.
The floor of the armory gleamed, reflecting her image back up at her. The place was tidy even by the already-strict standards of the rest of the capital. The hallways were all straight corridors that intersected at right angles, forming a tidy grid. Her eyes couldn't find a single speck of dirt. The only decoration were small, evenly-spaced alcoves, with individual lotuses growing in pots of water.
It was the first time in ages that she'd even bothered to notice flowers. There was always the knowledge that they'd be there the next day, and the day after that, forever alive and unchanging. Now, she stopped and ran her fingers over the petals of one. If she plucked them all off, she wondered, would the flower still be here in a week, or would it be replaced?
Before she could act on the impulse, a rabbit stepped out to block her path further into the armory. "This area is off-limits."
Sagume glanced over to her, reluctantly pulling her fingers from the flower. "I need to take a veil."
"There aren't any departures scheduled for today."
Sagume raised an eyebrow. "Is that a no?"
The rabbit held her gaze for a moment... but no longer. It was a sight Sagume had gotten used to, as the girl's mind pulled together a few disparate rumors about a one-winged goddess. "A-ah, oh, Administrator Kishin! I hadn't realized! There are actually three veils ready to use right now, so I'm sure that if one were to go missing for a short while, it wouldn't cause any issues...?" she offered hopefully.
Smart girl. "Of course. Thank you."
The rabbit's ears drooped in relief. She dipped a deep bow as Sagume walked past... and guilt dragged Sagume's feet to a stop. She glanced back. "If your superior asks... I took the veil without permission."
The rabbit's ears perked up slightly. "Er, ma'am? Just how long do you plan on having it out for...?"
But Sagume was already moving again, and she didn't stop until she'd reached the alcoves where the veils were stored. She slid one onto her shoulders and stepped through the doorway out into the open.
The veil activated, and Sagume Kishin hovered up and away from the moon.
The flight had been a long, uneventful one. Just how long, Sagume couldn't personally say. She drifted back to awareness with the sense that a long time had passed, but no memories of it, like waking from a very long nap.
She drifted back to awareness with grass under her feet and trees stretching overhead.
Sagume blinked to adjust to the sunlight. She took a breath, and impurity rushed into her body. She could taste it. This was air in which millions of generations had lived and died, eating each other and breeding since the dawn of time. She'd forgotten the sensation... or had she never noticed it back then?
She wheezed and gagged, forcing herself to breathe, as she stood up and inspected her surroundings. The only landmark in sight was a mountain, but she'd made a point of memorizing the local geography. It was enough to orient her. Choosing a direction, she set off toward the horizon.
The farther she walked, the harder it became to ignore the nature of the Earth. Compared to the moon, the air was a cacophony of animal cries. Dead leaves and branches littered the forest floor. With a secret little thrill of disgust, she picked up a leaf and watched it crumble in her fingers. An insect landed on her hand. She recoiled at first, but then stood and watch it as it crept blindly across her flesh. After ages away, she couldn't begin to guess at its species. Did it eat other insects, hunting them down and ending their lives to prolong its own? Did it eat plants? Was it hoping to find one of her veins and drink her blood, making her a part of this web of life and death?
She crushed it under her thumb and it stopped, its little legs giving one last feeble twitch. One more thing that would never live again, destroyed so easily. And she'd come here willingly. She'd laugh, if it weren't so gruesome.
She knew that she was getting close when the trees faded away into bamboo. Here, the world was quieter, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She'd been planning this for years, but even now, she found herself reconsidering. If any of the locals saw her, they'd probably attack on sight. She couldn't even blame them at this point. Eirin might attack her herself, if she had any sense in her head. At best, she was giving up eternity, and for what? To get eaten by insects and walk upon the corpses of trees?
This was a planet of death, and she'd been a fool to return.
Before she could convince herself to turn back, though, she made one last turn. Though she'd seen no hints of it through the bamboo merely seconds earlier, the mansion of Eientei was in front of her.
She approached slowly, and made the decision to keep her arms a short distance from her side so that any observers could see that she was unarmed. Groups of white rabbits—the four-legged earthly kind, which she'd almost forgotten existed—dashed around or watched her from the distance, but she saw no other observers. Even so, after all the distance she'd traveled, these last dozen meters felt nerve-wracking.
Sagume stepped up to the door, took a breath, and raised her hand to knock.
Instead, the door opened in front of her.
The room beyond was a simple main room, with tatami floors and a few pieces of furniture scattered around the perimeter. In the middle was a single table.
On the far side, Eirin was seated, her eyes on the doorway. She paused in recognition, but didn't let it slow her down for long. "If I'd wanted to stop you from reaching the manor, we had six opportunities between the time you landed and when you came into sight of Eientei. I'd still choose your words carefully, if I were you."
Eirin had seen her coming ahead of time somehow. Of course Eirin had seen her coming. Even here, she was always three steps ahead.
"I didn't come here to fight."
"No, I don't think that you did."
Sagume hunted for words, but despite days of coaching herself for this moment and millennia of experience at speaking deliberately, she found none except, "Eirin... I'm sorry."
Eirin didn't reply. Sagume continued. "I still don't agree with you on everything, but I regret hurting you."
Eirin remained silent. Sagume tried not to wilt under the weight of her gaze. She'd prepared herself for this. She'd told herself that it was a long shot, coming here unannounced to make amends, and resolved to accept whatever outcome it produced. It still stung.
"That's all I wanted to say," she said, and finally glanced away. There were many more things that she wanted to say, really, but between her curse and the weight on her heart, now didn't seem like the time to say them. There would, more than likely, never be a time for that again.
"Where will you go now?" Eirin asked.
"Izumo, maybe. … I don't know yet. I... have nowhere in particular picked out."
Eirin studied Sagume's face for a moment, then shook her head with a sigh. "It's settled, then." She allowed a hint of a smile to find her lips, but quashed it as she rose to standing. "In the name of the Princess Kaguya," she said solemnly, and dipped a deep bow, "I welcome you, exile from eternity, to Eientei. May your life here be long and peaceful."
And on the sixth day, Amenosagume awoke from her sleep, and finding Omoikane still waiting for her, said: "I am a liar and a slayer of gods who scorns the laws of heaven, and all that I have done has led to my ruin. What use do you have for me?" To which Omoikane said: "All things have their use, and in time, even thy wicked deeds may be redeemed. Come, there is much work to be done."
