Story:

"Because—" hiccup, "—because I already thought of all that, Onee-sama, and it didn't stop me, and that's exactly why I'm upset—" Kicho scrubbed her face.

"I would risk everything—everything—if it helps you on your quest. Even if it means never seeing my beloved Nobu-kun again for a period—maybe forever—he knows that, he married me knowing I was half yours before I was all his—"

Her voice wobbled and dropped. "So don't you dare do me the insult of deciding my sacrifice for me and calling it protection. Take me with you, or I'll follow the rift myself, and my navigation will be worse, and you'll have to rescue me anyway—"

And there it was. The Violet Witch—who could argue down warlords, out-stubborn demons, and was famously immune to every weapon in creation—sat on the tatami, utterly defenseless against the one tactic that had defeated her their whole lives: her little sister crying in front of her and meaning it.

"Oh—oh, alright, alright, stop—stop crying, you win, you always win—" Violet swept around the low table, gathered Kicho into her arms, and held her, tapping her back gently, rhythmically, the same old lullaby pat she'd used since they were younger.

"We're in this together. There. We're in this together. All three of us—you, me, and the little miko. The Butterfly Sisters, one rift, one world, one quest. Happy now, you absolute tyrant?"

Kicho lifted her tear-streaked face from her sister's shoulder. And the crying turned, mid-breath, into that bright, indomitable smile—the one that had followed her out of one world and into another.

"Nothing is impossible," she declared, "if the Butterfly Sisters work in union."

The Violet Witch gazed at her sister, whose face had cleared like the sky after rain, and laughed despite herself—helplessly.

"...Honestly. There's simply nothing I can do with your crying."

Within this little guest room, as the butterfly sisters embraced, the final piece of a journey that would shake two worlds settled quietly into place.