Published: January 24, 2026
◇
The sound of the kagura bells once again quietly echoed through the shrine grounds.
The flames of the bonfire flickered slightly, and as if in response, the wind gently brushed over the watchtower.
The dance had begun.
The two girls stepped forward quietly in unison.
Their white and crimson shrine maiden garments swayed, tracing enchanting patterns in the lantern light.
Nagisa was the first to move.
She raised the kagura bell in her hand high, letting its sound ring out as she danced with careful precision.
Her movements were modest yet graceful, carrying a calmness that seemed to soothe the heart.
Next, Fuuka opened her fan.
The pair of fans featured a delicate cherry blossom haze pattern on the front, softly reflecting the light as they moved.
Her movements contrasted with Nagisa’s—supple and flowing like a gentle stream.
Each flick of her hand with the fan sliced through the night air, beautifully tracing the dance’s trajectory.
Facing each other, they spun around and then stood back to back.
When Nagisa shook her bell, Fuuka’s fan spread wide.
The bell’s chime felt like purification, and the fan’s flow like a blessing, their rhythms harmonizing perfectly.
Amid this flow, Fuuka suddenly lifted her face.
Bathed in the lantern light, her expression visible for just a moment—was a radiant smile.
Watching this, Mr. Haruto’s lips curled slightly.
“…You finally smiled.”
Though spoken quietly, it was unmistakably a heartfelt relief from someone like a brother to her.
Soon, the dance reached its climax.
Fuuka’s fan fluttered especially wide, and mana resembling cherry blossom petals swirled in the air.
In response, Nagisa’s bell rang out sharply.
The two slowly moved closer, standing side by side as if merging.
Then, taking their final step, they bowed their heads.
—The dance ended.
But then Fuuka quietly rose and stepped forward once more.
The fan was no longer in her hand.
Instead, she held the cursed sword White Sakura, its pale cherry-colored blade shimmering.
Bathed in the bonfire’s light, the white blade sliced through the still air.
Everyone in the audience held their breath, watching her figure.
Fuuka slowly took a stance.
Her eyes looked straight up into the night sky.
“…So that this country can move forward again.”
Her voice was like a prayer, spoken to no one in particular but filled with certainty.
Then, White Sakura was swung.
The sharp sound of the blade cutting the wind echoed through the night.
Mana like cherry blossom haze faintly scattered from the blade.
After the strike, White Sakura was quietly sheathed.
As it silently slid into its scabbard, the wind blew through the shrine grounds once more.
Then, quiet applause began—one person, then another.
This time, it was not confusion.
It was the sound of respect and gratitude.
Receiving this wholeheartedly, Fuuka simply bowed her head.
◇
The echoes of applause slowly faded into the night sky.
The dance was over.
Without anyone saying so, people began slowly descending the path to the Heavenly Spirit Shrine.
Normally, this sanctuary—located midway up the Sacred Mountain—was off-limits.
But on the final day of the Spirit Dance Festival, it was opened to the public.
That made this night special.
With quiet emotion and respect in their hearts, everyone began their journey home in few words.
We waited for Fuuka’s arrival backstage behind the shrine.
Soon, she appeared, having removed her white robes and draped a cloak over her shoulders, carrying a fox mask in one hand.
Her expression was somewhat shy, yet refreshing.
When we hurried over, she paused for a moment and gave a small smile.
“Good job, Fuuka.”
When I said this, Shion faced her directly, eyes glistening.
“…You were so beautiful. The dance, the declaration, everything… it was moving.”
Shion’s words were sincere.
“Thanks. —But more importantly, where’s the candied apple?”
Fuuka’s reply was somewhat off-topic, but perfectly her.
Shion was left dumbfounded.
We all burst out laughing.
“You really haven’t changed, have you.”