Infernal Moon ⋮ ᴏɴɢᴏɪɴɢ ⋮

〝⋟›∔‹⋞〞𝔐 𝙾 𝙾 𝙽 𝚅 𝙸

     The ocean loomed in an abyssal hue. It was as if the very waters had turned toxic, extinguishing life in their depths. The serene yet occasionally fierce embrace of the waves crashing against the rocks played a somber symphony like a requiem for the souls long lost to the sea. Even the ethereal chorus of seagulls could not mask the foreboding tableau that unfolded before them. It sounded like an eerie testament to the shadows that lingered in this watery grave.

     On the northern shores of Idekaya, nestled among the majestic trees, stands an impressive manor that seems to embody an enigmatic aura. This is the very estate that witnessed the fateful verdict against Saya and Katana, and ever since that pivotal night, it has been a cauldron of unrest. A solitary figure gazes from the veranda, perched atop the rugged cliffs by the sea.

     A variety of chairs and a couch beckoned him to relax, yet he resisted, even after hours spent in the space. To his right stood a waist-high table, home to two bottles of scotch—one already half-consumed. In his left hand, he held a bluish-gray rocks glass, which he casually swirled whenever the echoing cries of seagulls grew more pronounced.

     His gaze was fixed on the distant horizon where darkness enveloped the landscape even deeper than the clouds that cloaked the moon. The atmosphere of this night sent chills racing down his spine. If only fear had the power to propel him, he would have fled the Shinzou Garden hours ago.

     He could hear the seagulls' cries growing louder, and he felt a strong urge to swirl the rocks glass. Just as it reached a crescendo, a sharp click pierced through the sounds as if a lighthouse beam cut across the distant horizon.

     "Blessed be your ever presense, Master," a voice that was both dignified and perfectly modulated welcomed.

     The unmistakable sound of stilettos echoed momentarily. He refrained from looking their way when he heard the pop of the bottle being opened, nor did he shift his gaze at the clink of the glass. It was only upon hearing the rich flow of scotch being poured that he turned his attention to them.

     "Lyrica, here you are," the Master responded with a knowing smile as he observed Lyrica nearly fill the entire rocks glass with scotch.

     She gently brought her glass to meet his with a soft chime then gracefully moved to his left. For a fleeting moment, she absorbed the shadowy panorama stretching before them before pivoting to nestle against the cold railings.

     "Are you worried?" she asked.

     "I'm not worried about anything," he took a moment to gaze into his rocks glass before choosing to take a sip, "All paths have led to this moment, regardless of how intricate the web may appear."

     "It looks like you're troubled about your dear apprentice though. Why then, did you choose to send her to Kirigakure?" her voice carried an edge that no one would dare display in front of the Master.

     "Katana is my all. With her new love, I will not let her slip into a deeper abyss. Once was enough for me. I will not accept mistakes or disobedience, particularly from her," he spoke with unwavering certainty, setting down the nearly empty rock glass on the table before venturing further into the room.

     Lyrica tracked the Master's figure with her gaze, her eyes darkening as his silhouette deepened into shadow. It was as if an invisible thorn pricked her vision, pushing her to divert her stare. In that moment, she took a deep swig of the nearly full glass of scotch. Lyrica swallowed every last drop with a sharp gulp. The spirit was acrid, yet none of its bitterness compared to the pang in her heart whenever his words echoed in her mind—that Katana was his one and only.