Night deepened over the Kamisato Estate. Lantern light shimmered along the quiet corridors, casting fractured shadows of maple leaves across the walls. Ji Bai stood under the eaves, a half-finished scroll clutched in his hands, uncertainty clouding his gaze.
Not far off, Kamisato Ayaka and Ayato spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed in silent concern.
The air was thick with something unspoken—a tension that made even the wind seem to hold its breath.
"You've drawn the Shogun's attention," Ayato said at last, walking toward Ji Bai without preamble. "The Tenryou Commission will likely learn of this by tomorrow. We can't afford to delay."
Ji Bai nodded, his chest rising and falling. "What must I do?"
"Come with us to Tenshukaku," Ayato replied, his voice calm yet firm. "Her Excellency wishes to judge for herself whether your power is a blessing… or a threat."
Ji Bai was silent for a moment, then met his eyes with quiet resolve. "Very well."
Ayaka's gaze remained on him as she stepped forward. "I'll go with you," she said gently.
Ji Bai glanced at her, warmth flickering in his eyes. He gave a small, respectful bow. "Thank you."
Beneath the moonlight, their boat drifted across the calm waters. Inazuma's lantern-lit skyline reflected like stars upon the lake. Ji Bai sat inside, his scroll in hand, thoughts racing.
Ayaka spoke softly, breaking the stillness. "Your painting… is no longer ordinary. To stir the power of thunder is already extraordinary. You are the first to make her respond willingly."
Ji Bai replied just as quietly, "I could feel it. It wasn't just divine power—it felt like a will… as if she was looking through me, at the world."
Ayaka smiled faintly. "Whatever comes next, you're no longer just an observer."
They arrived at Tenshukaku. Climbing the stone steps, they entered the grand hall.
Inside, the air shimmered with violet light and sacred heat. Ji Bai stood below the dais, with Ayaka and Ayato behind him.
Atop her throne, Raiden Shogun sat motionless, eyes closed. The hall was silent, broken only by the echo of heartbeats, and distant thunder.
She opened her eyes slowly, fixing them on Ji Bai.
"Ji Bai," she said, her voice quiet but laced with divine weight. "You have stirred the thunder with your brush. Why?"
He bowed low, speaking with quiet resolve. "I did not mean to summon divine power. I only painted… what I truly saw in you."
The Shogun was silent for a long moment, as if examining him through his very soul.
"What you painted was not form—but divinity," she said. Her voice dropped, a trace colder. "Do you understand that such a thing treads close to the forbidden?"
Ji Bai lifted his eyes, not flinching. "I do. But my painting was not made in mockery—it came from reverence."
She held his gaze, then slowly raised a hand.
"Unroll the scroll."
Ji Bai stepped forward and unfurled the scroll across the presentation table.
Within the painting, lightning shimmered faintly, the divine figure half-emerged. Though unfinished, the presence within it already pulsed with power.
Raiden Shogun gazed at it for a long while, then rose and descended the steps.
She stood before the scroll.
"This painting…" she said quietly, "is the truest I've ever seen."
She turned her gaze to Ji Bai, expression unreadable.
"You are not blessed by the gods—but your brush carries intent."
"Will you pledge that this gift will serve Inazuma?"
Ji Bai froze, then dropped to one knee without hesitation.
"I swear by my brush: I will not defile the form of the divine. Nor defy fate."
Raiden Shogun gave a small nod, her tone finally softening.
"You may remain at the Kamisato Estate for now. Should divine will stir again, you will be summoned."
"I obey, Your Excellency."
The wind rose gently.
Cherry blossoms fell once more through the night air.
Ji Bai walked down the palace steps beside Ayaka, bathed in the violet light of the city.
He looked down at the scroll in his arms, heart unusually still.
He knew now—what he painted was not just a painting.
It was a response.
From something far greater than himself.