Story:

At the square before the main temple, beneath the shrine's towering gate and the gaze of its guardian statues, the teleportation was prepared.

Nobunaga stood in the center of the worn flagstones, travel cloak over his shoulders, the packed saddlebags and sword cases at his feet;

Murasame stood beside him, the Tonbokiri's carrying case slung across her back, spine straight as a shrine pillar.

Facing them stood the Butterfly Sisters—Violet and Kicho, hand in hand—one last time in the arrangement the world had grown used to, before the world changed its mind about where everyone belonged.

Kenshin crossed the square to Nobunaga, blue hair moving in the mountain wind, silver armor catching the morning light.

"Oda-dono." She stopped before him, planted her hands on her hips, and delivered her farewell with the tact of a war hammer.

"Do not die so easily out there on your western plain. I have not yet had the chance to measure how durable the Oda red army truly is against my cavalry. If a horde of demons manages to accomplish what I have been saving for myself, I will be very disappointed in you."