Gematrail — Echo Observer — Lævateinn Chapter 7: Echo05 – Intertwining Skies

Read chapter 7 of Gematrail — Echo Observer — Lævateinn by ⛰️ Mt.Kongou_Ragnarok on NovelPedia.

↓↓↓ Click here ↓↓↓ 📀 the soundtrack and theme songs 💿 🎶🎧 Spotify 🎧🎶 track Num : 9 / 10 May. The air carried the raw, green bite of new leaves, and the sunlight pressed warmth into skin with something like intent. He was climbing toward Tsujino-senpai’s family home, where she had promised — if promised was the right word — to put him through special archery training. “…There is no way this many steps is necessary.” He had known the family home was a shrine. That information had not adequately prepared him for the reality: a stone staircase that qualified, without exaggeration, as a form of physical punishment. At the mountain’s base, souvenir shops and teahouses lined the approach — the curated bustle of a tourist site restored as a symbol of the region’s postwar revival. Past that noise, the steps began, and they showed no mercy. Each footfall drove heat deeper into his thighs. His uniform shirt adhered to his back. His breathing shortened. “That soba place,” he muttered, catching the ghost of a dashi broth drifting from a shop not yet open for the day. “I’ve heard it’s incredible…” He didn’t stop. He had a reasonable fear of what Tsujino-senpai would say about lateness, and that fear was more powerful than hunger. By the time he finally passed under the torii gate, his lungs felt charred. He stood with his hands on his knees, breathing through his mouth, and looked up. High. An impossibly open sky. A wind moved through and carried the heat off his neck in one pass. “…I need water.” His throat had gone to dry sand. “Excuse me — would you like some water?” A voice, from behind him. He turned. A girl in a white miko’s uniform stood at the edge of the gravel. Hair worn down, dark in the morning light. In her hands, a bamboo flask — condensation already forming on the outside. His body moved before his brain did. He dropped into a full bow, forehead toward the gravel. “I am deeply, sincerely sorry for arriving late—” The gravel bit into his forehead. He braced for impact. What came back was silence. …That’s odd. The atmosphere was wrong. He’d expected controlled fury and gotten something soft instead. He was still weighing whether it was safe to look up when— “What are you groveling for? Change and get to work.” The familiar voice, from directly above him. Clean, straight, zero give in it. He looked up. Tsujino-senpai stood there in her training keikogi , arms at her sides. In front of him: also Tsujino-senpai, in a miko’s uniform, holding a bamboo flask. His mind went completely offline. One of them had her arms crossed and was regarding him with the usual combination of impatience and mild contempt. The other was smiling apologetically in his direction. After a moment, the one in shrine attire was the first to speak into the silence. “…The truth is, we’re sisters.” The girl in the miko’s uniform — the younger one, evidently — smiled softly. “ Ayaka. ” Tsujino-senpai turned to her. “Differentiate your hair. This keeps happening.” “Sister, I really think you could stand to be a little less intense with underclassmen—” “I came first in both archery and kendo at nationals last year. Anyone who can’t keep up with me is simply behind.” “That’s true, but still…” The younger one sighed with the practiced patience of someone who had been sighing in this particular direction for years. He could relate more than he wanted to admit. “Ayaka — is this a guest?” A man emerged from the depths of the main hall — the shrine priest, from the look of him. White vestments holding the smell of old timber and incense. A warm, easy smile. “A junior from my school. He’s joined the archery club. I’m handling his instruction.” Well. More accurately: the faculty advisor had handed the problem to her and walked away. He was, in some real sense, a victim of institutional negligence. If he had known it would come to this, he might have reconsidered the archery club entirely— He stopped. Wait. Tsujino-senpai had called her sister Ayaka. The shrine