The Grand Narukami Shrine basked in the gentle light of morning, but it wasn’t the usual rituals or offerings that filled the air with life—it was the soft cooing of a one-year-old tucked safely in Yae Miko’s arms. Wrapped in a tiny silk kimono patterned with foxes and electro sakura, the little girl giggled as Yae gently bounced her, the Guuji’s once-pristine sleeves now dotted with bits of rice and drool. The shrine maidens tried to keep straight faces as they passed, hiding smiles at the sight of the once-mischievous, always-composed Miko reduced to peek-a-boo games and baby songs.

“Truly, you’ve become my greatest distraction,”

Yae murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl’s soft cheek. The little one let out a happy squeal, reaching for Yae’s long pink hair with determined fingers.

“Ah, not the ears again, little thunderbolt,” she chuckled, though she made no move to stop her.

Outside, the sky held the faint charge of a distant storm—a quiet signature of the Raiden Shogun, who had spent the morning meditating in the Plane of Euthymia. She entrusted the little one to Yae without hesitation, knowing full well there was no safer place. Yae had once mastered words, rituals, and illusions—but now her most sacred task was keeping her daughter from trying to eat sacred scrolls or crawl into shrine fires. She didn’t mind. In fact, she relished it.

Later, under the blooming sakura, mother and daughter napped together in the shade. Yae’s tail flicked gently as her daughter nestled into her chest, tiny fingers still wrapped around a strand of her hair.

“My little storm,” Yae whispered drowsily, “you’ll be the one to make the heavens laugh.”