The laughter and clinking of cups from the Alcor's deck faded into the distance as Denzan set sail at dawn. The warmth of Beidou's hospitality still lingered, but the call of the sea pulled him forward. He had learned much in Liyue—refining his craft, testing his skill against formidable opponents—but something in his gut told him his journey was far from over.
And then there was the matter of his brother.
For years, Denzan had lived with the memory of the hooded warrior who had saved him during his lowest moment—the one who had guided him toward the Resistance. It wasn't until recently that he began to suspect the truth. The hints, the familiarity in that fighting style... it all pointed to one person.
His own blood.
He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the wheel. If his brother was still out there, if he had been watching from the shadows all this time, then it was time for answers.
His destination was clear: back to Inazuma.
---
At this time,the war against the shogunate had already ended.
Days later, Denzan's ship cut through the mist-laden waters of the Inazuman archipelago.
His first stop was an old Resistance hideout on Yashiori Island. The scars of war still marked the land—ruined structures, abandoned camps, the echoes of battles fought and won. The Resistance had long since disbanded, but Denzan knew some of its remnants still lingered.
He stepped ashore, scanning his surroundings. Then, a voice rang out from the shadows.
"I was wondering when you'd return."
Denzan turned sharply, hand resting on his katana. A lone figure stood atop a broken torii gate, the morning light casting long shadows. The hooded warrior.
But this time, the hood was lowered.
His brother.
Kajiwara Renshin.
The resemblance was undeniable—his sharp eyes, the same intense gaze, though hardened by time and battle. His armor was worn yet well-maintained, and his blade rested casually at his side, as if he had been expecting this moment.
Denzan exhaled. "So it really was you."
Renshin nodded, stepping forward. "I always knew you'd figure it out eventually."
Denzan clenched his fists. "Why didn't you tell me? Why stay in the shadows while I—while we—" His voice wavered for a second before he steadied himself. "Why let me believe I was alone?"
Renshin's expression remained unreadable. "Because I needed to know if you could stand on your own."
Denzan scoffed. "That's a damn excuse."
Renshin sighed. "Perhaps. But you weren't ready to hear the truth back then." He crossed his arms. "And now? Are you ready?"
Denzan met his gaze, the weight of years pressing down on him. He had chased adventure, forged his own path, fought for his ideals. But here, standing before the one person who had been a shadow in his past, he realized—this was a battle he wasn't sure how to fight.
But he would face it anyway.
"Tell me everything."
Renshin's gaze held firm. "Follow me."
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the ruins of an old Resistance outpost. Denzan hesitated for only a moment before following. The place was quiet now, abandoned after the war, but it still held the weight of old battles.
Inside a small, half-collapsed building, Renshin knelt and dusted off a crate, pulling out an old map of Inazuma. He traced a path with his fingers—routes marked, notes scribbled in the margins.
"You've been chasing adventure," Renshin said, his voice even. "Forging weapons, fighting battles. But there's more to this world than just the next opponent." He tapped a spot on the map. "Have you ever thought about what comes after?"
Denzan frowned. "After?"
Renshin met his gaze. "After the fight. After the journey. What is it you truly seek?"
Denzan didn't answer immediately. For years, it had always been about the next challenge, the next material to forge his greatest weapon. But was that really all there was?
Before he could reply, a voice called from outside.
"There you are."
Denzan turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to his katana. A lone traveler stood at the entrance, golden eyes sharp with curiosity. They carried themselves with an air of quiet confidence, a presence that felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.
The Traveler.
Renshin seemed unsurprised. "You're early."
The Traveler shrugged. "I had a feeling I'd find you here." Their companion, Paimon, floated beside them with an expectant look.
"Wait, you two know each other?" Denzan asked, narrowing his eyes.
Renshin nodded. "Our paths crossed before. And now, it seems our journeys are meant to align once more." He turned to the Traveler. "He's the one I told you about."
Denzan crossed his arms. "Told them what, exactly?"
The Traveler studied him for a moment before answering. "That you might have a part to play in what's coming."
Denzan felt a flicker of frustration. "I don't like riddles."
Paimon huffed. "Ugh, you two really are brothers."
Renshin smirked slightly but didn't elaborate. Instead, he rolled up the map and handed it to Denzan. "If you want the truth, then it's time you see the bigger picture. The Traveler has faced dangers far beyond what either of us have."
Denzan looked between them, the weight of the moment settling over him. He had spent his life searching for something—his purpose, his place in the world. And now, standing here, it felt like he was on the brink of something far greater than himself.
"…Fine," he said at last. "Tell me what I need to know."
The Traveler nodded. "Then let's begin."