Elsewhere.
Beneath an abandoned shrine on the outskirts of Kyoto, the space was unexpectedly spacious.
Jogo sat on a jutting rock, his hands folded over his knees, silent for a long time.
Then he spoke.
"Huojin is dead."
Hanami stood beside him, as quiet as a tree.
Only after a long while did he slowly nod.
"Yes."
"Killed by that... Wangchuan."
Jogo clenched his fists.
"We should have... gone together."
Hanami fell silent for a moment.
"No. Even if we'd gone... the outcome wouldn't have been any better."
"What did you say?"
Jogo jerked his head up.
But the moment his eyes met Hanami's, something seemed to press his gaze back down, and he lowered it again.
He knew Hanami was telling the truth.
Dagon huddled in a corner.
His body was curled into a ball, his tentacles hanging motionless at his sides.
Only after a long while did he make a faint, trembling sound.
"I was... right there..."
"Huojin told me... to leave first..."
"I ran."
His voice grew quieter and quieter.
"I escaped by myself..."
Jogo looked at his curled-up form.
"That was the right choice."
"Dagon."
On a battered offering table nearby, Mahito sat cross-legged.
His posture was casual and relaxed, one hand propping up his cheek as he tilted his head to watch Jogo and the others, that unchanging smile on his lips.
There was no sadness or anger in that smile, only pure, detached interest.
"Oh dear~ What a gloomy atmosphere~"
His voice was like ripples dancing across water, light and slick.
"But losing a companion really is a shame. Huojin had a bit of a temper, but he could take quite a beating in a fight. Cheer up! Come on, cheer up, okay?"
He extended his other hand, idly drawing circles in the air.