"Why is Miko Satsuki interested in such mythological tales?" asked Kamo no Tadayuki.
"Because, in my opinion, attaching mythical embellishments to real historical events is the most ingenious form of deception ever conceived in this world," Satsuki replied, her tone laced with faint sarcasm.
Take, for example, the famous concept of 'the divine right of kings.' The emperor now seated in Kyoto is nothing more than an ordinary man, yet he claims to be a descendant of Amaterasu, the sun goddess and creator deity of Japanese mythology, thus legitimizing his rule.
However, Satsuki's words were far too audacious. Even Kamo no Tadayuki, a seasoned veteran of the imperial bureaucracy, could not help but caution the shrine maiden before him.
"Lady Satsuki, your words are far more lethal than your spiritual power. Even this old man can barely withstand them."
"If it is inconvenient, I won't press the matter," Satsuki said lightly, toying with her emerald teacup. "But considering the disastrous consequences this event has caused, can a master onmyōji such as yourself—guardian of the way of history—truly turn a blind eye to what has brought such chaos upon the present world?"
"..."
After a long silence, Kamo no Tadayuki sighed. "In all of Kyoto, only Ashiya Dōman, Abe no Seimei, and you, Lady Satsuki, would dare to question me in this way."
"Then, Lord Kamo, do you have an answer?"
"No answer—only fragments of mythological history that I can recount."
And so, Kamo no Tadayuki began to narrate the history of Shinto.
"From the dawn of Shinto, the gods were divided into two great factions—the Amatsukami and the Kunitsukami. The two sides waged war many times.
The Amatsukami ruled the heavens under the leadership of Amaterasu Ōmikami. Her brother, Susanoo, was expelled from the heavens for refusing their father Izanagi's command to rule over the seas, as he wished instead to reunite with his mother, Izanami. Cast down to the earth, Susanoo slew the great serpent Orochi and obtained the sword Ame-no-Murakumo—one of the Three Sacred Treasures—which he offered to Amaterasu.
However, Susanoo once again caused turmoil in the heavens and was banished by Amaterasu a second time. He then joined the Kunitsukami and became their leader. Later, Amaterasu sent her grandson, Ninigi-no-Mikoto—the first emperor, known as the Heavenly Grandchild—down to earth to rule, where he fought against Ōkuninushi, Susanoo's successor as leader of the Kunitsukami.
This war, waged among the sixteen million gods of Japan, ended in victory for the Amatsukami. The Kunitsukami eventually submitted, though their royal descendants retreated to the region now known as the western provinces."
Here, the old onmyōji paused and gave Satsuki a meaningful look. "That is the mythological version of history."
"Then, what about the real version of history?"
"The true version may only be known if one could ask the gods themselves. As a mortal who merely keeps records of the way of history, all I can offer are conjectures based on existing evidence."
"Then what is your conjecture, Master?"
Kamo no Tadayuki answered Satsuki's question with a single statement. "I once read in an obscure chronicle that Susanoo was originally the supreme deity of the native gods of this land."
"The native gods?" Satsuki narrowed her eyes. "An intriguing theory. Based on what I know, your words have already provided a far more credible version of the truth."
"Heh-heh~" Kamo no Tadayuki chuckled slyly. "It's merely speculation—something I came across by chance, nothing more."
"A very convenient 'coincidence.'"
Having obtained the information she wanted, Satsuki no longer pressed the matter and began to sip her tea calmly.
Meanwhile, Ruri, who had been listening beside them, looked puzzled. Their conversation felt like a riddle wrapped in another riddle. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she finally asked within their shared consciousness, "Master, you understood all that from one sentence?"
"Combining it with the intelligence I've gathered and the memories I extracted from the souls of the dead at Yasaka Shrine, I've already formed a general conclusion. But I'll need to verify it myself."
As Satsuki's answer echoed within her mind, several of her mental projections materialized within her consciousness once more, beginning her signature method of thinking in place of asking.
"If the Kunitsukami, represented by Susanoo, were native gods, and the Amatsukami, represented by Amaterasu Ōmikami, were foreign deities, then who were the people who worshiped them?"
—"The natives and the immigrants."
"If there were indeed such natives and immigrants on this land long ago, what would they have done?"
—"If the natives were stronger, the newcomers would naturally submit. But if the newcomers were stronger, they would inevitably seize what belonged to the natives."
"If it were you—how would an external power dare to rashly invade a territory long occupied by an indigenous force?"
—"If uncertain of their opponent's strength, or temporarily weaker, they would choose to hide and integrate."
"That would make sense for ordinary people. But what if we're talking about gods?"
—"They would actively assimilate into the native pantheon."
"Susanoo once personally acknowledged Amaterasu as his elder sister, and Tsukuyomi as his elder brother. How do you refute that?"
—"If that were true, I could not refute it. But Susanoo lied about this. Based on the divine revelations I obtained from the ancestral souls of the Sakura clan's dead, and the records I took yesterday of the goddess Miketsu's statue, the divine energy patterns of the Kunitsukami and the Amatsukami are drastically different. One is a pantheon dominated by the sea, the other by the continent. Their divine offices and conceptual structures are fundamentally distinct. Moreover, both the Onmyōji tradition and Buddhist doctrine were clearly introduced from outside. That alone can serve as evidence."
"Then, what kind of opportunity would an invading power consider exploitable?"
—"An enemy of suitable strength—one not too weak, or it would fail to draw the natives' attention, but not too powerful either, or even the native deities couldn't stand against it. The perfect balance would allow the outsiders to eventually take over."
The questioning Satsuki clone's tone grew increasingly intense and sharp after hearing that answer.
"And what kind of enemy would meet such conditions?"
—"Who else but yōkai would fit that role?"
"The great yōkai possess power rivaling the gods. What right would foreign deities have to control them?"
—"They wouldn't need to control them—only lure them here. Sooner or later, the native gods would clash with the yōkai. When that happened, the outsiders could simply sit back and reap the benefits."
"Then, one final question..." said the questioning Satsuki clone as she turned toward the observing original, "Is the world we live in now the result of that very act of reaping the fisherman's profit?"
Click... click...
As the question left her lips, both the questioning and answering Satsuki projections froze in place. The next moment, they shattered into fragments and merged back into the vast starry domain of her consciousness.
Only the original Satsuki remained standing at the center, speaking softly to herself.
—"Such a result is not something either pantheon would have desired. But that only proves that among the yōkai who were lured here, there were those who successfully manipulated the intentions of the Amatsukami—provoking a civil war between them. And as both sides fell into ruin, the once marginal yōkai seized the chance to become the new dominant force of this world."
"Master, are you saying that the current state of the world was caused because the yōkai exploited the conflict between the two pantheons?" Ruri asked. Her tone carried more awe than doubt—after all, she had long since stopped questioning Satsuki's intellect.
"It's merely another form of natural selection. 'Gods' do not remain gods forever, and 'yōkai' do not remain yōkai forever. Under this heaven and earth, the two can transform into one another," Satsuki replied in her usual, terrifyingly rational tone. "Did we not just witness an example of that yesterday?"
"You mean the Earth Spider that fell into corruption and became a yōkai?" Ruri suddenly understood. Though she had not gone in person, observing the situation remotely had been effortless for her.
But Satsuki's conclusion extended far beyond that.
"Many of the world's yōkai and gods share humanoid forms. Gods can, through divine unions, produce half-divine offspring such as the Sakura clan, while yōkai can reproduce with humans to create half-yōkai. This indicates that humans, yōkai, and gods are, in essence, interconnected beings."
"So, what you mean, Master, is..."
"Setting aside certain aberrant entities, it's possible that most so-called 'gods,' 'yōkai,' and 'humans' in this world share a common ancestor."
Even with the assistance of the Akasha Record, Ruri's mind struggled to follow Satsuki's logic.
Yet, in the physical world, only an instant had passed during their mental exchange. Sitting upon the tatami, Satsuki finally set down her teacup. The fragrance of the tea leaves, which had lingered faintly at her nose, seemed to flow back into her senses only at that moment.
"Lady Satsuki, if my explanation has resolved your doubts, then I too have a few questions I would like to ask," said Kamo no Tadayuki.
For most people, such humility from someone of his stature would have been unthinkable.
As the master of the Great Onmyōji Abe no Seimei and a descendant of the legendary ascetic En no Ozunu, his position in the world of Shinto was far more exalted than that of a mere Doctor of Divination. Yet now, he unconsciously lowered his tone and demeanor before her—and Satsuki, for her part, took it as perfectly natural.
"A reasonable exchange," Satsuki nodded.
"It concerns that boy from my branch family. I've heard Keimei's report, but I watched that child grow up. I'm not yet so senile as to overlook true talent. If I'm not mistaken, the reason he was able to withstand the Earth Spider's attack... was because of you, wasn't it, Lady Miko?"
"That's right," Satsuki replied candidly. She even added without hesitation, "Had that child's capacity been greater, I wouldn't have needed to intervene personally."
"In any case, we Onmyōji will not claim credit for what belongs to the shrine maiden. Though I may be somewhat unrestrained in daily affairs, I've not yet gone senile when it comes to matters such as these," said Kamo no Tadayuki with dignified sincerity.
"Master Kamo, you still haven't stated your question," Satsuki reminded him.
Looking at the woman before him—her pure black kimono and her long, silken hair flowing like dark satin—Kamo no Tadayuki remained silent for a long moment before finally sighing softly. "Just now, I have already received the answer I sought."
"In that case..." Satsuki rose gracefully and offered a slight bow. "Until we meet again, Master Kamo."
With that, she turned and walked away, her steps graceful and effortless despite the height of her high heels.
Even after her peerless figure vanished from sight, Kamo no Tadayuki remained seated on the tatami, motionless. A heavy weariness fell over him, his expression suddenly seeming old and frail.
"Grandfather, it's rare to see you in such a state. Did you see something that unsettled you?"
From behind a sliding door came a young voice. A pair of small hands pushed it open, revealing a kneeling boy Onmyōji behind it.
The boy's features were refined and delicate, his eyes clear and divine, and his long deep-violet hair fell to the backs of his calves, tied at the ends with a white ribbon. He wore a crimson inner robe, light green hakama pants, and a white hunting garment over them. Though he wore no eboshi cap, every gesture exuded the grace and bearing of nobility.
The man he addressed as grandfather, Kamo no Tadayuki, was still gazing in the direction Satsuki had departed, his expression deep and complex as he murmured, "Twenty years ago, when I first met Seimei, I thought I was witnessing the dawn of a new golden age for the Onmyōji lineage...
"Five years ago, under my guidance, Abe no Seimei had already risen to fame throughout Kyoto as a great Onmyōji. And soon after, the prodigy from our branch family, Ashiya Dōman, appeared in the world. I truly believed then that the future of the Onmyōji lay within my grasp..."
...
By this point, the vigor that once filled Kamo no Tadayuki's words had faded entirely, replaced by a quiet melancholy that weighed heavily in the air.
"But now, I see that it was nothing more than my own delusion. To think that I, hailed throughout Kyoto as the most accurate diviner, failed to foresee such a simple outcome... I truly have grown senile."
The young man rose and sat respectfully at his grandfather's side. "Grandfather, I listened to the entire conversation just now. Aside from finding that shrine maiden's words bold and her mind sharp, I felt nothing particularly unusual."
"That's because you still haven't mastered the craft," Kamo no Tadayuki said, ruffling the hair of his most gifted descendant. "But for now, that ignorance may be a blessing."
Kamo no Tadayuki's mastery of divination had long since reached a transcendent level. Throughout his conversation with Satsuki, he had been divining continuously.
From the very first moment he laid eyes on her, a familiar dream had returned to haunt his mind—the vision of a black-clad figure he had once mistaken for the one who appeared in the imperial palace.
But only just now, after the shrine maiden called Satsuki had agreed to answer his question, had the aged Onmyōji completed his divination.
At last, he had parted the fog that veiled his dream—and glimpsed a corner of a future he had never before imagined.
In that future, neither gods nor yōkai existed. In their place stood towering buildings of steel and stone, and roaring metallic beasts that filled the air with thunder.
In that world, each person commanded laws powerful enough to govern nature itself. There were no gods to guide them, no Onmyōji to shape the destiny of nations—only humankind, moving mountains and parting seas through their own strength alone.
"Hōken," Kamo no Tadayuki said quietly, his gaze distant, "if a future exists where neither gods nor yōkai remain... then what purpose would we Onmyōji still serve?"
...
Far away, Satsuki paused in her steps. Turning slightly, she glanced over her shoulder, her golden Tenseigan eyes shimmering faintly as they swept across the distant residence.
Then, in a whisper so soft that none could hear, she murmured:
"In the future I have foreseen—there will be no yōkai, no gods... and, of course, no need for Onmyōji to exist at all."