Chapter 120
Miki held that strand of the sash.
Once unraveled, it was the perfect thickness to bind Wakako’s wrists – not tight enough to restrict blood flow, but just enough to leave a red mark.
One strand blindfolding her eyes, one between her teeth, one binding her hands – exactly like something one would only dare imagine in dreams.
Wakako knelt on fragments of shattered gold; it was uncomfortable, but to her, it was barely noticeable.
Even with the alcohol coursing through her, she couldn’t hide the natural tremor of her body.
Darkness enveloped her vision, and speaking was difficult. A slight movement of her fingers reminded her of the sash’s restraint. She could easily tear it apart, but she chose not to.
Somehow, she felt the sash wasn’t just a sash anymore but Miki herself.
So light, so soft, yet never evoking a sense of disrespect. Instead, Wakako willingly surrendered, allowing herself to be manipulated.
Even if she opened her eyes, all she saw was deepening shadows. A familiar scent approached, then a kiss fell on her brow, trailing down the bridge of her nose to her slightly parted lips, held open by the sash.
So gentle.
Don’t be so gentle.
The next moment, Miki bit her lip hard, the metallic taste of blood filled the air between them. The sharp pain made Wakako flinch, but her head was against a pillar, leaving her nowhere to escape.
After days apart, she finally tasted her wife’s kiss again, sweet yet bitter.
The sash behind Wakako’s neck tightened, forcing her to tilt her head up in response. At some point, Miki’s knee had pressed between her legs, her voice a low murmur.
“Do you like this?”
Wakako couldn’t speak.
Her outer robe hung loose at her chest, still somewhat intact. Miki’s fingers didn’t move to untie it, only gripped the collar tighter and tighter until Wakako’s breathing grew more rapid.
“Do you like this too?” Miki asked, but tears seemed to fall on Wakako’s knees.
Wakako’s expression was clouded with confusion. She didn’t have the energy to understand why Miki was crying. She strained to lift her head, brushing her cheek against the tear on Miki’s face.
Don’t cry.
You’re so beautiful, you should smile more.
Miki’s fingers slipped under her clothes. “Do you like it when I tell you to move on your own?”
Though she could easily continue, she stopped, wanting Wakako to move herself.
No matter how many times they’d done this, her pure-hearted servant would still blush red, instinctively trying to bite her lip, but Miki caught her just before, quickly grabbing the sash behind her head, commanding softly, “Don’t.”
Wakako’s movement froze.
“Three, two, one.”
The countdown rang like warning bells, and before “one” was spoken, Wakako finally did as instructed, moving herself.
Their reflection appeared in every piece of scattered gold, figures moving up and down, interweaving with the brilliant golden light.
Whether intentional or not, the scent of cherries intensified, the alluring aroma of Miki’s Omega pheromones drawing Wakako in, tempting her to press her lips against the gland…
“Snap.”
The soft end of the sash struck her face, making Wakako nearly wince in pain.
Miki’s voice sounded again: “Do you… like this too?”
Born without the ability to feel pain, yet having tasted it through drinking her blood, experiencing pain solely because of her.
“…You don’t need to feel pain.” She said, “You should have a wife who treats you gently, not…”
Before she could finish, Wakako suddenly broke free of her restraints, the sash snapping in two, falling to the ground.
She silenced Miki with a kiss.
And for the first time in her life, bit Miki’s lip hard enough to draw blood.
Miki could feel pain and taste the blood in her mouth as she looked at those eyes hidden behind the black sash.
“Your mouth isn’t meant for saying such things,” Wakako’s voice was muffled by the sash, “It’s meant to bite me like this. Can’t you do it?”
“Miki… you’re different from others.”
“Since I was thirteen, I’ve been your servant, your student… how could I be like anyone else?”
“I can only be like you. I’ve long since… become your mirror.”
“Whether you hit me, order me around, or go mad with jealousy, it’s all fine, you can do anything you want to me.”
Her mirror.
Miki stared at Wakako, the face moving before her both restrained and controlled, features she had traced countless times with fingers and brush.
Was she really her mirror?
“…Have you never resented me?” Miki moved her fingers deeper, and deeper, “I’m stubborn, unreasonable, never willing to explain anything, even I hate myself like this…”
“When I ignored you, what were you thinking?”
Had she ever hated her, even for a moment?
The collar finally fell open. The sash had struck her chest numerous times, leaving marks that were hard to ignore. Wakako was most vulnerable to this, her defenses completely shattered, consciousness scattered.
Fluid, scented with sunflowers, glistened on the scattered gold.
She whispered: “Of course I was thinking… how to make you feel secure.”
After a while, Miki said: “You really are foolish.”
“Will you ignore me again?”
Miki didn’t answer, only reached out again. Just as Wakako tried to say no, the previously bitten sash was stuffed back into her mouth.
“Mmph…”
Some questions aren’t meant to be answered with words; she believed Wakako would understand.
The golden light flickered on the ground, and Miki saw her reflection again. In her blurred vision, she had the illusion of still being the white-robed Saint – why else would she boldly enter the temple, deliberately doing such things before the damaged divine statue?
Of course, the statue’s face was destroyed, it couldn’t see any of this.
No one else can see Wakako.
Not even the God who created mankind.
Security…
Miki thought.
She had never felt it since birth. Even with Wakako right in front of her, she desperately wanted to confirm her existence through constant touch and kisses.
Though it was cruel, Wakako couldn’t give her the security she needed.
If this continued, even if they reconciled briefly now, Miki knew she would again become an unreasonable madwoman.
However…
Her long-hesitant heart suddenly made a decision.
I’m sorry, Wakako. I can’t just quietly be your Lady Kitagawa.
I want something more.
There was only one way to feel safe, and that was to hold absolute power, to stand above everyone else, to never again feel insecure.
Miki gave a slight smile. In that moment, her blurred vision finally cleared, the mirror image too exquisite to be human once again reflected in her eyes.
She had been the Saint for twenty-two years. She had said she didn’t want that identity, but in her heart, she still believed…
The name Miki was more noble than all the others combined.
She had thought she was willing to become just another face in the crowd, but that wasn’t true.
In the end, perhaps she wasn’t so different from the hypocritical God.
Wait a little longer, Wakako.
You’ll understand soon enough.
***
After that day, Miki still didn’t come home. Not because anything had happened between them, but because the Queen had specifically ordered her to oversee the craftsmen repairing the temple daily.
Though Wakako missed her dearly, she couldn’t defy the Queen’s orders. So whenever she had time, she visited Miki, bringing homemade food.
She wasn’t good at finding excuses to enter the palace, always saying she was training Princess Tsukiyo.
After too many times, Tsukiyo couldn’t take it anymore and started protesting: “Master, you don’t have to come so often… Each time you train me until I’m sore all over. I need time to recover.”
“Oh…” Wakako had never experienced such troubles, sometimes forgetting her disciple was a normal person who could feel pain, “Shall we do something else today?”
Tsukiyo was puzzled: “Something else? Any weapon practice requires physical movement.”
Wakako said honestly: “I meant teaching you reading and writing.”
Tsukiyo gave her a “you must be joking” look.
The princess’s desk was covered with her writing practice, and Wakako barely glanced before realizing she probably wasn’t qualified.
After all, at twenty-three, her own handwriting was still… well, better not mention such painful matters.
“If you want to visit your wife, just go ahead,” Tsukiyo said. “I can study here by myself, don’t worry. Besides, Lord Hua is returning soon, and I wanted to ask him about tracking techniques.”
Wakako was about to leave but stopped, turning back: “He’s coming back? I hadn’t heard.”
Not long ago, Hua Yumu had left the captain position to her, departing for some unknown purpose, only saying he was going on a long journey with no set return date.
If he was returning, he would surely write to inform them. Given his personality, he would definitely ask about the squad’s recent situation.
Yet Wakako hadn’t received even a word.
Tsukiyo didn’t understand the concern: “Lord Hua sent a message to Mother, I heard it from her.”
Normally, that would be fine. But now, with the Eastern Continent at peace and no urgent tasks, there was no reason for Hua Yumu to be so secretive, informing only the Queen and not his own squad.
Wakako felt uneasy. Her instincts told her something was wrong, and she planned to discuss with others whether they should write to Hua Yumu.
She didn’t know that their former captain was currently in a small city thousands of miles away.
Hua Yumu looked up at the towering divine statue, wiping sweat from his brow.
Lady Miki’s request was quite particular…
Why did she want him to mark the location of every divine statue on this continent on a map and bring it back, without revealing anything to anyone?
Well, after serving the Queen for so many years, Hua Yumu knew deeply that some tasks didn’t require understanding the reason.
Years ago, Lady Miki had accepted his favor by taking in Wakako. Now she had solemnly promised to take Shen Qianmo as a student and teach her carefully.
But Hua Yumu wanted more than that.
He vaguely guessed what Lady Miki intended to do, and if so, he would let her owe him another favor, making this journey on her behalf.
