On the road back from Kitayama, Kiriai's heart remained abandoned in the darkness of Bōkeisha—the sacred sanctuary where fireflies were sealed away. The words of the firefly. That voice, so earnest. Silver hair and eyes of azure. The smile of one who had waited, waited ceaselessly for one hundred and thirty years in that sealed darkness—all of it still pulsed faintly, softly, in the depths of her chest. Even the patterns of Kesshinjutsu—the art of merging one's heart and technique into a single whole, transforming the purity of emotion into power—appeared in that same azure hue as the firefly's light. Her father, Shikibe Takao, had remained silent throughout the entire journey home. His back alone carried them toward Shiunka Hall. That silence was cold and heavy, permitting not even his daughter's agitation to disturb it. Did he already know? Or was his mind simply seized by something at Bōkeisha? Last night, he had accompanied them to the sanctuary. Under the pretext of investigation. Yet before the sanctuary's seal, his face had hardened, and his eyes had been filled with a deep regret. He must have kept constant watch to prevent his daughter from meeting the firefly. Then he could not possibly have failed to notice the change in her expression. When they arrived at Shiunka Hall, the sun had already passed the midpoint of the sky. Servants who had finished their morning training moved back and forth along the corridors. The ordinary day flowed on, unnoticed by anyone. That disparity was unbearable to Kiriai. (The firefly is still alone. In the darkness...) The moment she thought this, the pattern of Kesshinjutsu on her left wrist glowed—for just an instant. Azure. The color of the firefly's eyes. "Kiriai." Her father's voice. It was time for the midday meal in the great hall. As she took her seat at the table, her mother, Shikibe Sagiri, was there as well. Her father had already begun eating, and her mother's chopsticks moved in rhythm with his. Kiriai immediately perceived that the silence between them was not the usual wordless meal, but rather a silence that waited for something. A bowl of warm rice gruel. Pickled vegetables. Grilled fish. Everything was as it always was. And yet the world appeared transformed. "Did you sense any abnormality during yesterday's investigation?" her father said flatly, as though disinterested. But Kiriai understood. Beneath those words lay an intention to measure something. (This is bad. Is he asking about the firefly? No, wait. If I just answer normally...) "N-no! Nothing! It was normal!" In that instant, she heard the strangeness in her own voice. It was high, trembling. Her face burned. Her hand holding the chopsticks shook. The sound of them striking the rim of the bowl rang out—a sharp *clink*. What should I do. What should I do. Suspicious. Impossibly suspicious. Her father raised his face. The scar above his brow twisted slightly. Those narrow eyes began to observe his daughter. Her mother did not smile. She merely directed her gaze, and its coldness seemed to lower the very temperature of the room. "...I see," her father replied curtly. But the silence that followed was far more terrifying. He slowly returned to his meal. Yet he did not avert his gaze entirely. He continued to observe his daughter, faintly, peripherally. Kiriai ate. She simply ate, ceaselessly. It tasted of nothing. When the meal ended and she stepped into the corridor, it happened. In the moment her father passed beside her as they crossed paths—a strange sensation pierced through her mind. It was not words. Thought itself flowed in. (The girl's manner is strange. What happened at the sanctuary yesterday? She is hiding something. I must protect her. But protect her from what? What am I hiding?) Kiriai stopped. Her heart beat violently. What was that sensation? She had heard her father's mind. Of that she was certain. But why? Kyōkankaku—the ability to perceive the emotions of others as one's own sensations—was said to appear rarely even within the Shikibe family. But it was supposed to be an ability granted only to those who had undergone rigorous training. She had not yet reached such a level. She hurried down the corridor. She heard her father's footsteps behind her, but he seemed to have turned in another direction. The afternoon training felt longer than usual. In Meikandō—a training facility employing specialized techniques—the five-element formation carved beneath the floor. There, training with kamitsubame was to take place. Kamitsubame were paper shikigami—spiritual entities that obeyed their master's will—manipulated through shinjutsu, the art of mental concentration. But Kiriai's mind remained abandoned in the mountains of Higashiyama. She recalled the firefly's eyes. That transparent azure. Within them, reflected an endless solitude, and yet a hope that would not fade. "Kiriai-sama, are you all right?" It was the voice of Oboro, who trained beside her. A boy from a branch family of the Shikibe clan, accepted as a training student at the main house. Two years her junior, yet his talent was unremarkable. And because of this, he was always—envy directed toward her. Jealousy. Longing. And one thing more, a complex emotion. "I-I'm fine! Completely fine!" She had cried out without thinking. Oboro's face grew puzzled. She began the shikigami training. She connected the kamitsubame to her consciousness, manipulating three simultaneously. Standard training. But then it came. A strange sensation pierced through Kiriai's mind. Oboro's heart flowed into her as though it were her own. "Uwa..." It was not sound, but sensation. Oboro's emotions—his true heart. Envy and inferiority. *Kiriai-sama is the princess of the main house. I'm nothing like her. But why does she have so much talent?* An anxiety. And even that anxiety itself was self-negation, a feeling he deemed worthless to possess. At the same time, another sensation flowed in. It was her father. From somewhere, ever since after the meal, her father's emotions had been leaking into her continuously. Worry. Concern. And a deep regret—he wished to protect his daughter, but from what? Did he know the truth, or did he not? If he did know, how should he respond? "Uaaaaaaah!" Kiriai screamed. In that instant, the three kamitsubame she had been controlling went berserk simultaneously. They descended upon Oboro from all sides. The wings of the paper creatures, though made of white paper, gleamed sharp as blades. Oboro's cry rose. "Kyaaaah!" The shikigami seized his hair, tearing at it. They ripped at the collar of his training garment. Oboro rolled across the ground, desperately attempting to defend himself, but against spiritual entities, he was powerless. "Stop! Please stop!" Kiriai desperately tried to release the technique. But that sensation would not leave her body. The hearts of people continued to resound. Oboro's terror. And—her father's shock. Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Violent footsteps. Her father rushed in. "What is the meaning of this!" That voice alone brought everything to stillness. The kamitsubame fell to the ground. Oboro lay on his back, gasping. His training garment was in tatters. His hair was disheveled, a small wound upon his forehead. "F-Father..." "What have you done?" Her father's eyes held less anger than confusion and examination. That gaze was not mere reproach, but an attempt to understand what was happening to his daughter. "Um, well, the kamitsubame, they just... on their own..." She stammered. No excuse came to mind. "Answer in one sentence." That cold voice caused Kiriai to shrink completely. "I don't know. I don't know..." Then it came again. Her father's emotions. Shifting rapidly from the "observation" of before—the speed at which his thoughts raced. (This manner of collapse... the control of shinjutsu has been lost. But why? Normally, such emotional rampage should not occur. Kiriai's talent is high, but even so, at her stage of training, such a... could it be? Is kyōkankaku beginning to awaken? The ability to perceive the emotions of others? No, that cannot be. The awakening of kyōkankaku typically occurs after the twentieth year. Kiriai is still young. But if it were so, then she cannot distinguish between her own emotions and those of others, and is in confusion. That is why the control of shinjutsu has collapsed. Yes, this is—) "What happened at the sanctuary yesterday?" "N-nothing!" "Kiriai." The mere utterance of her name caused her heart to leap violently. "Truly nothing!" She stepped backward. Her eyes wandered, her face flushed crimson. She understood it herself. She possessed not a shred of talent for deception. Her father's expression hardened coldly. "...Return to your room. Training is suspended for today." With those words cast aside, he turned to Oboro. "To the medical quarters," he instructed. Kiriai dragged her feet toward her own room. The moment she entered, she buried her face in the bedding. "Aaaah! I'm really so terrible at lying...!" She clutched a cushion and writhed her body again and again. Born and raised in this house, forbidden even to show emotion, and yet here she was, lying with such transparent honesty. That wretchedness was unbearable. Yet at the same time, when she recalled the firefly's face, her chest grew warm. She wished to protect that one. She wished to meet that one, no matter what. What meaning did the Kinyōritsu—the law forbidding contact with youkai—hold? As evening fell outside the window, Kiriai sat at her desk. She took out her diary. "Something strange happened today." She let her pen move. But for a time, words would not come. "I felt as though I could hear people's hearts. Father's worry. Oboro's envy. All of it. What is this? Is it kyōkankaku? If so, why now, at this moment? But more than that..." She paused, looking up toward the window. "What matters most is the firefly. I will go again. No matter how poorly I lie, I cannot hide this feeling. I will not leave the firefly alone. Never." She drew a final line beneath the words. Late that night, Shikibe Takao stood alone in the garden. Looking up at his daughter's window, he sighed. "Kiriai... something is awakening within you. Is it kyōkankaku? No, it is not only that. I saw her expression at the sanctuary yesterday. That gleam in her eyes was..." He clenched his fist. "Did she and the firefly meet?" That whisper dissolved into the night wind.