Chapter Text

Many, many years ago...

Almost every criminal or enemy of the Lunar Capital was simply exiled to Earth; prisons in the capital itself were almost unnecessary. There were two reasons to keep a prisoner on the Moon at all: if their absence would risk greater damage than their crimes had caused, or if they could pose a credible threat to the Moon even from Earth.

The most obvious example of the first case was Jouga. Insignificant though any one might be, the rabbits were essential to Lunar welfare; holding their true mistress was important leverage. As long as she remained on the Moon, the rabbits would follow her; as long as she remained at Tsukuyomi’s mercy, the rabbits would obey for her sake. Such prisoners were kept in isolated estates, away from where they might pose a danger. Their lives had enough luxury to ensure their compliance; official visits were infrequent, but hardly exceptional, and were just as much diplomatic missions as jailers meeting with prisoners.

Few would even acknowledge the second case. Such prisons were built deep beneath the Lunar surface, their narrow, winding entrances concealed between guard posts ostensibly serving some other purpose. Curiosity was not considered a virtue on the Moon, and anyone who might find themselves near such a prison would quickly be escorted away, usually without protest. Official visits were never conducted; any important information would be relayed by veil, so the messenger would have no knowledge of their journey. Similar protocols were used for the changing of the guard. The gates of such prisons were locked under specially-designed seal, and only two keys existed which could open them: one kept by Tsukuyomi himself, the other by his closest advisor.

The on-duty guards were thus justified in their surprise when the heavy, cast-metal outer doors swung open in the middle of their shift, clanging loudly as they struck the stone walls. The rabbits tried not to wince as the sound echoed through the cramped, barren room.

Yagokoro Eirin, first minister of the Lunar Capital, regarded the two flabbergasted rabbit guards with a stern, level glare. The door swung shut behind her, leaving them again in the musty lamplight of the prison entrance. “I will see the prisoner.”

The two rabbits nodded simultaneously, trying to shrink back into the corners behind them. They exchanged a nervous look, neither willing to be the first to speak. Eirin waved a hand towards the inner door. “You will escort me there.” Her frown was ever-so-slightly more pronounced.

“A-a-a-a-as you wish, Your Highness!” one of the rabbits stammered, scrambling for the keys on her belt. She slunk around the side of the small entryway, keeping her back to the wall and her body half-bowed, until she could turn around to fumble with the lock. Soon enough, with a few muffled taps of Eirin’s foot, the doors swung back, exposing a winding, narrow staircase fading off into the distance.

The guard returned the keys to her belt while her fellow flipped a switch on the wall, bathing the stairs in a flickering, iridescent light. Eirin stepped into the stairwell, beckoning for the guards to follow. Sharing a nervous glance, the rabbits followed.

For many long minutes, the only sound was that of shoes and boots against wood, stone, and grated steel. The narrow, winding passages made every footfall rattle through the air. The passage twisted through the bowels of the moon, the result of constant small changes to its route as the city above it grew and shifted over the years. Occasionally, sealed doors would bar their descent, requiring more complex keys and codes with each barrier. Torii gates were built into the corridor at regular intervals, columns set into the walls and lintol spanning the sealing, each a ward against potential impurity seeping up from below.

The tunnel broadened only slightly on the approach to the cell beneath. Shimenawa and heavy locks fixed the final door in place, while protective charms were draped over and carved into the door and the surrounding stone.

Eirin walked up to the door, placed her hand upon it. In a sudden flurry of motion, every piece retracted out, up, or away in sequence. Finally, the large shimenawa lifted, revealing a simple wooden door behind. She stepped to the side, keeping her eyes on the door. The guards exchanged a nervous look, and took a simultaneous step forward, awkwardly bumping into each other. Eirin tapped her foot, and the one on the left stumbled forward, scrambling to find the right key for the lock. With a few clunks of iron on wood, the lock clicked, and the door swung inward. Eirin slipped off her shoes and stepped inside.

The cell’s interior was contrasted against its location. It was reasonably spacious, with sliding doors off to either side of the room; one for a lavatory, one for sleeping quarters. Cushions and a small table sat in the middle of the room, in a haphazard pattern. The furthest from the door was occupied by the cell’s sole resident.

The prisoner was a woman, of the same sort of uncertain age and unquestionable poise that marked most gods. Her silver hair was shaggy and unkempt, but had not grown beyond her chin; a single grimy-feathered wing twitched in the air behind her. Sitting over her jaw, bolted tight around the entire lower half of her face, was a massive, solid iron mask.

Red eyes, a faint spark flickering within, locked onto Eirin. The prisoner stood, her motions slow, deliberate, and slightly exaggerated; her gaze stayed locked as she moved. Eirin waved to one of the guards. “You will remove her mask.”

The rabbit’s face froze in place, her complexion draining and her ears folding down flat against her head. “Are you sure that’s wise, Your-”

Eirin’s head whipped around; the motion was sudden and rough, whipping her hair through the air. Despite this, her shoulders barely moved. She locked eyes with the rabbit, her expression neutral; the rabbit froze in place. “You are fully aware of who I am.” she said, her tone perfectly level. “You need not be concerned; you are not worth her breath.” She furrowed her brow, ever so slightly.

The rabbit withered under her gaze. “I- Of course, right away, Your Highness!” The rabbit shakily held out a key, stepping towards the prisoner. The keyhole was on the left side; the prisoner obligingly tilted her head up and away.

With a twist of the key, the mask fell to the floor with a heavy clanging sound, breaking apart into a spray of pins and heap of plates.

The prisoner yawned, rolling her jaw back and forth, then slowly turned to Eirin, one corner of her mouth turned slightly up. “Omoikane,” she said, slowly massaging her jaw with one hand, “this is a surprise. I am no doubt still completely at your mercy.”

“Ame-no-Sagume,” Eirin responded, “we both know that cannot be true.” She stooped down to take a seat opposite the prisoner’s, then flicked her hand back in the vague direction of the guards. “You will assume posts outside the door, and close it behind you.”

The rabbits, relief flooding their faces, scrambled out of the room, the second briefly popping her head back in to pull the door closed after her. The lock clattered shut shortly after.

“What brings you to my hole in your paradise?” She leaned forward onto the table. “Perhaps Tsukuyomi would come here to gloat, but you want something.”

Eirin smiled for a moment. “And with that, I am that much closer to receiving it.”

“Or you could abandon your quest altogether.” Ame-no-Sagume held a finger up to her lips. “I have no reason to aid you,” she kicked the remains of her muzzle, sending metal clattering across the floor, “and there is nothing to be gained from my words, not even through your wit.”

Eirin’s smile grew. “This is far better than I had expected.”

“You misunderstand me. The people of the Moon have not faced justice for their crimes on Earth, and sit in their palaces of excess, oblivious to the thought of it. My view of them has not changed.” She tapped her finger against her lips as a momentary flash of frustration blinked across Eirin’s face. “But, a personal visit is unusual. If you came to me without certain confidence you could persuade me, you are a fool.”

“I will be direct, then.” Eirin leaned forward, matching Ame-no-Sagume’s posture. “The Moon is at war. We will emerge victorious; it is a question of the cost.”

Ame-no-Sagume snarled. “That sounds familiar.”

“Oh, the Court is not bringing war to Earth again; their fancies have turned to other pursuits.” An undercurrent of exasperation slipped into her tone. “The terrestrial youkai brought this war to us.”

“Youkai?” Ame-no-Sagume scoffed. “The Moon would be under greater threat from humans. An invasion of fairies is only barely less plausible.”

Eirin nodded. “That would normally be the case; however, something has organised them. We cannot identify a leader, but they have identified key strategic weaknesses in the paths to the Capital, and are executing strategies that even I would, ten years prior, have thought completely beyond their ability.” Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes seemed fascinated with the floor.

“Your guard was down, and you admit it.” Ame-no-Sagume crossed her arms, a slight grin on her face. “Oh, I hope my campaigns proved to be so vexing.”

With a scowl, Eirin simply said “You are here for a reason.” Ame-no-Sagume’s smile grew brighter.

“So, you want to set one vexing opponent against another.”

“Part of the reason you are here is that in the end, my mind for strategy eclipses your own.” Eirin’s tone was level; it was not a boast, and Ame-no-Sagume did not mistake it for such. “However, you possess a certain…” Eirin rested her chin in her left hand, “creative ruthlessness, which is missing from most in the Lunar Capital.”

“Nobody in your pure little paradise wants to do the dirty work?” She shook her head. “Or perhaps nobody wants to do any work at all.” She covered her mouth with a palm, hiding a small chuckle. “Still, I have no reason to help you.”

Eirin took a long, deep breath. “I can offer you the one thing you want most in the world.”

Ame-no-Sagume arched an eyebrow. “A meal I don’t need a tube to eat?” She kicked the remains of her mask again.

“A purpose.”

Ame-no-Sagume’s eyes widened. “That’s quite the guess. Why do you think that’s what I want?”

Eirin sighed. “Because you’re too much like me.”

Ame-no-Sagume gave her a critical look. “You say that like it’s the finest compliment you know.”

“I will ask you a question; I have no doubt it is a question you have asked yourself.” Eirin held up one finger. “Why is Yagokoro-no-Omoikane-no-Mikoto not the ruler of the Lunar Capital?” She quickly held her other palm out in front of Ame-no-Sagume. “I would rather not have you answer, of course.”

Ame-no-Sagume simply blinked, and gestured for Eirin to continue.

“Lord Tsukuyomi has a certain vision. When he came to me with it, it would have surely been impossible.” Eirin gestured upwards again. “And yet now, it is more of a reality than it has ever been. I do not rule the Lunar Capital because any question that I can think to ask, I already can answer; the problems of others are more fascinating, and more beautiful, when they are in a position to ask. This world is Lord Tsukuyomi’s dream, and by helping bring it into reality, it has become mine. I would not trust myself to dream alone.”

“And you see this in me.” Ame-no-Sagume shook her head.

“I studied your strategies extensively; delicate, yet filled with careful failsafes. Every move, every word, carefully assembled to give the best result. Each of your tasks was one of my questions, and each strategy an answer. Excellence for its own sake.” Eirin shook her head. “Really, you were the most dangerous person to curse as we did.”

“And if you’re right?”

“You’ve stewed in this prison for centuries; your proficiency with your ‘curse’ is clearly one way you have occupied your mind. I can give you freedom, and put you to task.” Eirin leaned further in. “Simply put, I need spies. More than I can manage myself, with the rest of the war effort bearing on my time. There are few in the Capital with the delicacy to handle such matters, and fewer with the right sense of morality.”

“And if you were wrong? If I went along with you, only to betray you and your master, tearing down your dream brick by brick for brick, as my last revenge for the gods of Earth?”

“Of course,” Eirin’s face didn’t even flicker, “I would relish the challenge of stopping you.”

They both smiled at that.

“You were Ame-no-Sagume, who defied the heavens, and had the truth wrenched from her tongue. By my works was your past undone, and by my will I can forge your future anew.” Eirin stood to her full height, not breaking eye contact. She reached down with her right hand. “Now, won’t you be the knife at my back?”

Ame-no-Sagume smiled, the lights of her cell casting jagged shadows across her bared teeth.

She took the hand, and let herself be pulled to her feet.

“There is also the matter of your name. Ame-no-Sagume was banished to the Earth, you see, and could not be permitted to set foot on the Moon.” Eirin shrugged. “Divine titles have fallen from favour on the Moon, regardless. Most refer to me as Yagokoro Eirin, now.”

Eirin brushed off her skirts and, with a flick of her wrist, brandished the key to the cell. She quickly undid the inner lock, and the door swung open.

“Kishin Sagume.” she said, as soon as Eirin stepped out of the cell.

“Kishin, then.” Eirin did not turn around. “Come. We have much to do.”

Sagume followed a single step behind her. “If that is how it is to be, Lady Yagokoro.”

Eirin smiled.