Re: L5R - Chasing the Winds - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Fic
Posted: Mon Jul 10, 2017 3:03 am
Later on, they were seated on cushions at the small tables and the food and drink was served. Harun refused the meat but he noticed that Kousuda, who was seated next to him, took a generous portion. Harun had come to like the flatbread and hummus and thankfully there were a few dishes that he recognised.
On Harun’s other side was Zetsubou, who Harun noticed wasn’t eating much.
From around the circle of gathered guests, Harun could see the other Clans and further along was Lord Chinua, far at the other end were the musicians. They played a light lilting tune, the singing not as alien as Unicorn music normally was.
The night was cold, their breath coming out in clouds. But with the heat of the torches behind them and the sake and kumis being poured, they hardly felt it. Kousuda was talking to Kouta, patiently explaining what things were and answering questions, so Harun turned to Zetsubou.
“Your clan-mate, Ikoma Sesuke, seems to be enjoying himself,” said Harun. From where they were sitting they could see him drinking heartily with the Moto musicians.
“He wanted to come, volunteered,” said Zetsubou. “I do hope things don’t go too badly, he may be the ones who needs protecting.”
“Oh, I think that trouble may start in another quarter,” Harun said, nodding to the Arashi and Yoritomo exchanging death glares across the circle. “When I heard they were both invited here, I was wondering if it was a mistake or by design.”
Zetsubou shrugged. “With the Mantis, anything is possible.
“Even a pirate becoming a monk?”
Harun smiled. “Even that.”
A servant leaned down behind Harun. “Excuse me, Kakita-sama, but Lord Moto would like to speak with you.”
Harun excused himself to Zetsubou and made his way towards Chinua. He made a formal bow to the Unicorn Champion.
“I must compliment you on the spectacle the Unicorn put on, my lord,” Harun said. “It is unlike anything that I have seen.”
“That would mean more if you had seen more things, Harun,” said Chinua with a slight grin.
“That is true, my lord,” Harun conceded, grinning himself.
Chinua motioned him to sit. “I see you have made some concessions to your kin,” he said, nodding to the fur trimmed cloak Harun was wearing.
“Practicalities,” Harun said. “The winters here, I am told, are unlike what I am used to.”
“They are, but the summers are something to see too,” Chinua.
“I hope to see those as well, my lord,” said Harun.
“Perhaps you will,” Chinua said.
Any answer Harun may have had was cut off by a cacophony of sound from the musicians, accompanied by the arrival of women entering the circle wearing long purple robes. The crowd applauded loudly as they took their places and drew their swords. Holding in place, waiting for the signal. One of them, Harun realised, was Asuna.
They then began to dance, a familiar, delicate style typical of a Rokugani court dance. But with the swords it was something else, the kenshibu, the dance of the sword.
The arranged themselves in lines and started to sway, their swords moving just out of sync, the blades catching the firelight as they gently swayed to the music.
Like blades of grass, Harun realised, the land as it used to be.
They then broke formation, dancing in a light skipping way, like riding, their swords extended out from them, glinting in the firelight. They then formed a long line and one after another performed a kata, Strength through Purity, perfect technique and timing.
The Utaku then scattered, most of them retreating to the edges of the circle leaving all but five in the middle. One of them was Asuna. Together, they performed the 100 years of Steel Kata series. The Empire Stands on its Edge, The World is Empty, Victory of the River and finally, Standing on the Heavens. Perfect discipline and timing, Harun’s sensei Kakita Kenshin would have been impressed with their execution of what was a technique perfected by the Kakita.
But that wasn’t what Harun was thinking. He watched Asuna in the firelight, she had poise and grace worthy of a dancer of the Imperial Court.
“They are something to watch, aren’t they?” said Chinua.
Harun nodded. Indeed she was.
Some hours later, Harun went to the edge of the camp, away from the heat of the fires the cool night air was refreshing. From the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one seeking respite.
Standing over by one of yurts was Daigotsu Yukari. Her arms were folded against her chest, her chin was raised defiantly, but she was listening to the Moto samurai who was talking to her. The same one she had struck the evening before. They didn’t seem to notice Harun, or anyone for that matter.
With a small smile to himself, Harun left them. But before he was out of earshot he heard Yukari laugh.
He sat back down between Kousuda and Zetsubou just as the music was starting again, faster and more exciting than before. Several dancers entered the circle and started leaping about. They wore long dark robes with hoods pulled up over their faces. Then, at a crash of drums and gongs, they fell to the ground and the torches were doused, plunging the camp into darkness. In the middle of the circle the dancers huddled together.
All was silent, then a lone voice started singing, a woman, her voice was high and slow, beautiful and solemn. There was then a flash of light then a dragon of fire soared above their heads, suspended on poles carried below, shining with flames.
There was a gasp when it appeared, Harun heard Zetsubou sigh with admiration.
The Fire Dragon circled the group of seated dancers as the woman continued to sing, her voice soaring to great heights and full of hope and promise. As the Fire Dragon passed the dancers, each of them dropped their hoods, revealing a mask of a different colour. One was green, the next purple, then blue, orange and the last was silver.
“This is the Dance of the Seals,” Kousuda explained. “Each one of the dancers is one of the seals, ready to be found and closed.”
Harun nodded. He knew of the story but not of many of the details, and he was curious to see what the Unicorn would do with it.
With a final swoop, the Fire Dragon exploded into flames, disappearing just as the torches about the camp flared to life again, flooding the camp with light. The music picked up pace, the dancers scattered, drawing their hoods back over their heads, all but the one in the purple mask. He stood in the centre, completely still, while more dancers circled in on him, hiding him from view. Then the dancers turned to fight each other, not quite fighting but no quite dancing, their movements were in sync, striding back and forward to the drumbeat.
There were loud thunderclaps, with clouds of smoke, representing the guns of the Daidoji that had fought in the battle.
Then a woman appeared, dressed in the pure white robes of a peasant. One her head was a sugegusa conical hat, in one hand she carried a spear.
“Hikahime,” murmured Kousuda, more to himself than to Harun. He looked at his uncle, had he known her?
The dancer who was Hikahime closed in on the fighting dancers, her spear ready, as she came close they parted to envelope her, hiding her from sight. The dancers whirled around in a haphazard way, the drums beating loud and fast. Then the dancers dropped to the ground and only two were dancing, the one in the purple mask and Hikahime. The masked one touched Hikahime’s chest, leaving a blood-red mark there. She looked down at it, then nodded as if she accepted it.
The dancers around them rose and hid them again. They then pulled out blue scarves, trailing like the waves if the sea. The crowd then parting to reveal a dancer in the gold robes of a Lion. He wore a gold mask with bright orange hair coming from it, moving with him as he did, shining bright in the firelight.
Kousuda leaned close, looking not at Harun but passed him at Zetsubou.
Zetsubou blushed and looked down.
Harun gasped. “That is you? You were at the Second Seal?”
Zetsubou nodded.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
But Zetsubou did not answer.
The Zetsubou dancer moved in a very traditional Rokugani way, every step, every gesture was clearly practiced until perfect. His hands moved in a ritualised way, as if he were casting spells, the other dancers changing their movement patterns in response to his gestures.
The other dancers swirled about, waving their scarves and turning with high kicks to show the churning of the sea. They then hoisted someone up above their heads, the dancer with the blue mask. The Zetsubou dancer made an elaborate gesture and the masked dancer was passed over the heads of the other dancers to stand beside Zetsubou.
The two touched hands as the other dancers circled around them, coming closer and closer until they disappeared.
“What was it really like?” Harun asked Zetsubou.
“Nothing like that,” he answered, and that was all Zetsubou would say about it.
The drums sounded again, the dancers dropped their scarves and started to fight each other again. They collected together tightly in a pack. Three dancers carefully circled the pack, approaching it from the rear and reached inside pulled someone out. The one who emerged wore a green mask.
“This was in Shinomen Forest,” Kousuda explained to Harun. “Before that, we thought it would be the last one but they found out that there were two more.” He nodded at Zetsubou. “Zetsubou was there for that one too, from what I have heard they would not have succeeded without him.”
Harun again looked at Zetsubou, what else did he not know about him?
He turned back to the dance. The music grew louder, the dancers wilder, the fighting fiercer. They carried long red ribbons, holding them above their heads in a scarlet fury.
Out of the crowd emerged a figure in the Lion mask, like the one the Zetsubou dancer had worn, but this one carried a sword and seemed to strut about rather than dance. Harun didn’t need Kousuda to tell him who that was meant to be. It was Akodo Kano, he had been Shogun of the Empire before Utaku Chikara.
Another figure emerged from the crowd of dancers. He wore white samurai robes, had long white hair and a white mask with horns on the forehead. There was a gasp from the crowd when he emerged. Daigotsu Kanpeki.
Between them, in a circle of dancers that fought fiercely, stood a dancer in an orange mask, completely still in the middle of a fury of activity. Kano and Kanpeki tried to fight through the crowd to get to the masked dancer, but it fought against them, like a rising tide. They couldn’t win, the crowd pushed against them and brought them down, going down on the ground themselves. The only one standing was the one in the orange mask. He made a bow and then pulled the hood back over his mask and joined the others in dance as they rose to their feet.
Great crows, held aloft on poles, circled the dancers. They came to rest just before one of them, they flew off again just as the dancer pulled back his hood to reveal his silver mask.
“What happened there?” Harun asked Kousuda.
“I remember it, it was very strange,” Kousuda said. “There was a ronin name Miataru who found out the location of the last seal, from Kenku in Sakkaku, the Realm of Mischief. We don’t know how he did it, and his mind was mostly gone, but it never would have been found without him.”
Harun nodded, watching the dancers as he listened. They were doing a riding, skipping motion now, like on horseback, making a great circle. There was a big cheer from the Unicorn when they appeared. They went right past Harun, one of them wore the black and white face paint of the Moto priests. Was that one meant to be Majid? Then he realised with a start it wasn’t someone playing Majid, it was Majid, playing himself in the part he had played in the closing of the Fifth Seal. Harun laughed, that was just like Majid to do that.
Majid approached the masked dancer, the two of them circling each other carefully. Around them the others danced wildly, even more than they had before. They circled faster and faster, finally coming to a stop when the drums sounded long and loud and finished.
There was wild applause from everyone as the dancers took their bows, wild whoops of cheering for the ones in the masks. Harun joined in heartily, he had never seen anything quite like that and was sure he wouldn’t again.
Once the applause had died down, it was clear that the formal proceedings of the feast were over. Lord Chinua took his leave, as did a few guests.
“So, what was it really like then?” Harun asked Zetsubou.
Zetsubou thought a moment. “It’s hard to describe if you weren’t there,” he said. “It was confusing and difficult, hardly as simple as what we just saw there.”
“That’s the nature of stories,” Kousuda interjected. “But that dancer Zetsubou wasn’t bad, ne?”
Harun laughed, so did Zetsubou.
“Believe me, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “There are things they leave out of the official histories, and usually for good reasons.” He stood up. “I think I am feasted-out tonight, mina-san I bid you goodnight.” He bowed to Kousuda but motioned for Harun to walk with him.
When they got away from the noise of the feast, Zetsubou stopped. He came close to Harun and spoke in a low voice.
“Harun, there’s something I want to tell you,” he said. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I don’t think I can honourably keep it to myself.” He took a breath as if to steel himself. “Since we last spoke, I have seen your mother.”
Harun stared at him in surprise. “You mean—”
Zetsubou nodded. “Yes, Yamada wanted to be found which is how I came to speak to her. Most of it was about the ritual to cleanse the land, we had to make sure that the Black hand wouldn’t interfere.” He paused again. “But I told her I had seen you.” He looked at Harun, his lion eyes warm and compassionate. “I…had hoped that I could bring you to see her while you were here, but she refused.”
“What?” demanded Harun. “She’s my mother, why would she not want to see me?”
Zetsubou gave Harun a sad smile. “Your mother is doing something very difficult but necessary, Harun. She wants to spare you the pain of that burden, she always has.”
Harun’s heart sank, Zetsubou touched his shoulder gently.
“Harun, please don’t ever think she doesn’t care for you,” said Zetsubou. “She was very happy to hear what I told her about you, and how like her you are.”
Harun brightened a little at this. “Really?”
Zetsubou nodded. ”You have her compassion, Harun, her courage,” he said. “And something more, her search for purpose, to serve something greater than yourself.
Harun found he couldn’t say anything. “Thank you for that, Zetsubou,” he said. “Do you think I will ever see her?”
“Yes,” said Zetsubou emphatically. “I know things are supposed to happen in their proper time and not before. And I know because…she told me.”
Harun made a bow. “Thank you again, Zetsubou.”
Harun went back to the feast once Zetsubou had gone, but he didn’t get there. Asuna found him first.
“I saw you sitting with Lord Chinua, Harun,” she said. “I saw you watch me, I saw your face. Have you anything to say?”
Harun gave his best courtly smile. “Other than to compliment you on your dancing, Asuna-san?”
Asuna smiled back at him. “You know, in all the time that I have known you, I don’t think I have heard you speak earnestly. It’s almost as if you play a part, Harun.”
“Are you accusing me of being an actor, Asuna?” Harun asked.
“No,” she said, frowning at him. “I want to really know who you are, Harun, not what you show yourself as.”
“You do?” Harun asked, he looked at her carefully.
His mind went back to what Majid to him before Shiro Moto, how he had said Harun looked good together. He had dismissed it at the time, but the temptation to stay was never far from his thoughts.
“I would like that,” said Harun. He offered her his hand to her, she took it. His duellists hand enclosing her warrior’s one.
Where would this go? Harun wasn’t sure, but wherever it did go he would probably have to make a choice at some stage and hope it was the right one.
On Harun’s other side was Zetsubou, who Harun noticed wasn’t eating much.
From around the circle of gathered guests, Harun could see the other Clans and further along was Lord Chinua, far at the other end were the musicians. They played a light lilting tune, the singing not as alien as Unicorn music normally was.
The night was cold, their breath coming out in clouds. But with the heat of the torches behind them and the sake and kumis being poured, they hardly felt it. Kousuda was talking to Kouta, patiently explaining what things were and answering questions, so Harun turned to Zetsubou.
“Your clan-mate, Ikoma Sesuke, seems to be enjoying himself,” said Harun. From where they were sitting they could see him drinking heartily with the Moto musicians.
“He wanted to come, volunteered,” said Zetsubou. “I do hope things don’t go too badly, he may be the ones who needs protecting.”
“Oh, I think that trouble may start in another quarter,” Harun said, nodding to the Arashi and Yoritomo exchanging death glares across the circle. “When I heard they were both invited here, I was wondering if it was a mistake or by design.”
Zetsubou shrugged. “With the Mantis, anything is possible.
“Even a pirate becoming a monk?”
Harun smiled. “Even that.”
A servant leaned down behind Harun. “Excuse me, Kakita-sama, but Lord Moto would like to speak with you.”
Harun excused himself to Zetsubou and made his way towards Chinua. He made a formal bow to the Unicorn Champion.
“I must compliment you on the spectacle the Unicorn put on, my lord,” Harun said. “It is unlike anything that I have seen.”
“That would mean more if you had seen more things, Harun,” said Chinua with a slight grin.
“That is true, my lord,” Harun conceded, grinning himself.
Chinua motioned him to sit. “I see you have made some concessions to your kin,” he said, nodding to the fur trimmed cloak Harun was wearing.
“Practicalities,” Harun said. “The winters here, I am told, are unlike what I am used to.”
“They are, but the summers are something to see too,” Chinua.
“I hope to see those as well, my lord,” said Harun.
“Perhaps you will,” Chinua said.
Any answer Harun may have had was cut off by a cacophony of sound from the musicians, accompanied by the arrival of women entering the circle wearing long purple robes. The crowd applauded loudly as they took their places and drew their swords. Holding in place, waiting for the signal. One of them, Harun realised, was Asuna.
They then began to dance, a familiar, delicate style typical of a Rokugani court dance. But with the swords it was something else, the kenshibu, the dance of the sword.
The arranged themselves in lines and started to sway, their swords moving just out of sync, the blades catching the firelight as they gently swayed to the music.
Like blades of grass, Harun realised, the land as it used to be.
They then broke formation, dancing in a light skipping way, like riding, their swords extended out from them, glinting in the firelight. They then formed a long line and one after another performed a kata, Strength through Purity, perfect technique and timing.
The Utaku then scattered, most of them retreating to the edges of the circle leaving all but five in the middle. One of them was Asuna. Together, they performed the 100 years of Steel Kata series. The Empire Stands on its Edge, The World is Empty, Victory of the River and finally, Standing on the Heavens. Perfect discipline and timing, Harun’s sensei Kakita Kenshin would have been impressed with their execution of what was a technique perfected by the Kakita.
But that wasn’t what Harun was thinking. He watched Asuna in the firelight, she had poise and grace worthy of a dancer of the Imperial Court.
“They are something to watch, aren’t they?” said Chinua.
Harun nodded. Indeed she was.
Some hours later, Harun went to the edge of the camp, away from the heat of the fires the cool night air was refreshing. From the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one seeking respite.
Standing over by one of yurts was Daigotsu Yukari. Her arms were folded against her chest, her chin was raised defiantly, but she was listening to the Moto samurai who was talking to her. The same one she had struck the evening before. They didn’t seem to notice Harun, or anyone for that matter.
With a small smile to himself, Harun left them. But before he was out of earshot he heard Yukari laugh.
He sat back down between Kousuda and Zetsubou just as the music was starting again, faster and more exciting than before. Several dancers entered the circle and started leaping about. They wore long dark robes with hoods pulled up over their faces. Then, at a crash of drums and gongs, they fell to the ground and the torches were doused, plunging the camp into darkness. In the middle of the circle the dancers huddled together.
All was silent, then a lone voice started singing, a woman, her voice was high and slow, beautiful and solemn. There was then a flash of light then a dragon of fire soared above their heads, suspended on poles carried below, shining with flames.
There was a gasp when it appeared, Harun heard Zetsubou sigh with admiration.
The Fire Dragon circled the group of seated dancers as the woman continued to sing, her voice soaring to great heights and full of hope and promise. As the Fire Dragon passed the dancers, each of them dropped their hoods, revealing a mask of a different colour. One was green, the next purple, then blue, orange and the last was silver.
“This is the Dance of the Seals,” Kousuda explained. “Each one of the dancers is one of the seals, ready to be found and closed.”
Harun nodded. He knew of the story but not of many of the details, and he was curious to see what the Unicorn would do with it.
With a final swoop, the Fire Dragon exploded into flames, disappearing just as the torches about the camp flared to life again, flooding the camp with light. The music picked up pace, the dancers scattered, drawing their hoods back over their heads, all but the one in the purple mask. He stood in the centre, completely still, while more dancers circled in on him, hiding him from view. Then the dancers turned to fight each other, not quite fighting but no quite dancing, their movements were in sync, striding back and forward to the drumbeat.
There were loud thunderclaps, with clouds of smoke, representing the guns of the Daidoji that had fought in the battle.
Then a woman appeared, dressed in the pure white robes of a peasant. One her head was a sugegusa conical hat, in one hand she carried a spear.
“Hikahime,” murmured Kousuda, more to himself than to Harun. He looked at his uncle, had he known her?
The dancer who was Hikahime closed in on the fighting dancers, her spear ready, as she came close they parted to envelope her, hiding her from sight. The dancers whirled around in a haphazard way, the drums beating loud and fast. Then the dancers dropped to the ground and only two were dancing, the one in the purple mask and Hikahime. The masked one touched Hikahime’s chest, leaving a blood-red mark there. She looked down at it, then nodded as if she accepted it.
The dancers around them rose and hid them again. They then pulled out blue scarves, trailing like the waves if the sea. The crowd then parting to reveal a dancer in the gold robes of a Lion. He wore a gold mask with bright orange hair coming from it, moving with him as he did, shining bright in the firelight.
Kousuda leaned close, looking not at Harun but passed him at Zetsubou.
Zetsubou blushed and looked down.
Harun gasped. “That is you? You were at the Second Seal?”
Zetsubou nodded.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
But Zetsubou did not answer.
The Zetsubou dancer moved in a very traditional Rokugani way, every step, every gesture was clearly practiced until perfect. His hands moved in a ritualised way, as if he were casting spells, the other dancers changing their movement patterns in response to his gestures.
The other dancers swirled about, waving their scarves and turning with high kicks to show the churning of the sea. They then hoisted someone up above their heads, the dancer with the blue mask. The Zetsubou dancer made an elaborate gesture and the masked dancer was passed over the heads of the other dancers to stand beside Zetsubou.
The two touched hands as the other dancers circled around them, coming closer and closer until they disappeared.
“What was it really like?” Harun asked Zetsubou.
“Nothing like that,” he answered, and that was all Zetsubou would say about it.
The drums sounded again, the dancers dropped their scarves and started to fight each other again. They collected together tightly in a pack. Three dancers carefully circled the pack, approaching it from the rear and reached inside pulled someone out. The one who emerged wore a green mask.
“This was in Shinomen Forest,” Kousuda explained to Harun. “Before that, we thought it would be the last one but they found out that there were two more.” He nodded at Zetsubou. “Zetsubou was there for that one too, from what I have heard they would not have succeeded without him.”
Harun again looked at Zetsubou, what else did he not know about him?
He turned back to the dance. The music grew louder, the dancers wilder, the fighting fiercer. They carried long red ribbons, holding them above their heads in a scarlet fury.
Out of the crowd emerged a figure in the Lion mask, like the one the Zetsubou dancer had worn, but this one carried a sword and seemed to strut about rather than dance. Harun didn’t need Kousuda to tell him who that was meant to be. It was Akodo Kano, he had been Shogun of the Empire before Utaku Chikara.
Another figure emerged from the crowd of dancers. He wore white samurai robes, had long white hair and a white mask with horns on the forehead. There was a gasp from the crowd when he emerged. Daigotsu Kanpeki.
Between them, in a circle of dancers that fought fiercely, stood a dancer in an orange mask, completely still in the middle of a fury of activity. Kano and Kanpeki tried to fight through the crowd to get to the masked dancer, but it fought against them, like a rising tide. They couldn’t win, the crowd pushed against them and brought them down, going down on the ground themselves. The only one standing was the one in the orange mask. He made a bow and then pulled the hood back over his mask and joined the others in dance as they rose to their feet.
Great crows, held aloft on poles, circled the dancers. They came to rest just before one of them, they flew off again just as the dancer pulled back his hood to reveal his silver mask.
“What happened there?” Harun asked Kousuda.
“I remember it, it was very strange,” Kousuda said. “There was a ronin name Miataru who found out the location of the last seal, from Kenku in Sakkaku, the Realm of Mischief. We don’t know how he did it, and his mind was mostly gone, but it never would have been found without him.”
Harun nodded, watching the dancers as he listened. They were doing a riding, skipping motion now, like on horseback, making a great circle. There was a big cheer from the Unicorn when they appeared. They went right past Harun, one of them wore the black and white face paint of the Moto priests. Was that one meant to be Majid? Then he realised with a start it wasn’t someone playing Majid, it was Majid, playing himself in the part he had played in the closing of the Fifth Seal. Harun laughed, that was just like Majid to do that.
Majid approached the masked dancer, the two of them circling each other carefully. Around them the others danced wildly, even more than they had before. They circled faster and faster, finally coming to a stop when the drums sounded long and loud and finished.
There was wild applause from everyone as the dancers took their bows, wild whoops of cheering for the ones in the masks. Harun joined in heartily, he had never seen anything quite like that and was sure he wouldn’t again.
Once the applause had died down, it was clear that the formal proceedings of the feast were over. Lord Chinua took his leave, as did a few guests.
“So, what was it really like then?” Harun asked Zetsubou.
Zetsubou thought a moment. “It’s hard to describe if you weren’t there,” he said. “It was confusing and difficult, hardly as simple as what we just saw there.”
“That’s the nature of stories,” Kousuda interjected. “But that dancer Zetsubou wasn’t bad, ne?”
Harun laughed, so did Zetsubou.
“Believe me, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “There are things they leave out of the official histories, and usually for good reasons.” He stood up. “I think I am feasted-out tonight, mina-san I bid you goodnight.” He bowed to Kousuda but motioned for Harun to walk with him.
When they got away from the noise of the feast, Zetsubou stopped. He came close to Harun and spoke in a low voice.
“Harun, there’s something I want to tell you,” he said. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I don’t think I can honourably keep it to myself.” He took a breath as if to steel himself. “Since we last spoke, I have seen your mother.”
Harun stared at him in surprise. “You mean—”
Zetsubou nodded. “Yes, Yamada wanted to be found which is how I came to speak to her. Most of it was about the ritual to cleanse the land, we had to make sure that the Black hand wouldn’t interfere.” He paused again. “But I told her I had seen you.” He looked at Harun, his lion eyes warm and compassionate. “I…had hoped that I could bring you to see her while you were here, but she refused.”
“What?” demanded Harun. “She’s my mother, why would she not want to see me?”
Zetsubou gave Harun a sad smile. “Your mother is doing something very difficult but necessary, Harun. She wants to spare you the pain of that burden, she always has.”
Harun’s heart sank, Zetsubou touched his shoulder gently.
“Harun, please don’t ever think she doesn’t care for you,” said Zetsubou. “She was very happy to hear what I told her about you, and how like her you are.”
Harun brightened a little at this. “Really?”
Zetsubou nodded. ”You have her compassion, Harun, her courage,” he said. “And something more, her search for purpose, to serve something greater than yourself.
Harun found he couldn’t say anything. “Thank you for that, Zetsubou,” he said. “Do you think I will ever see her?”
“Yes,” said Zetsubou emphatically. “I know things are supposed to happen in their proper time and not before. And I know because…she told me.”
Harun made a bow. “Thank you again, Zetsubou.”
Harun went back to the feast once Zetsubou had gone, but he didn’t get there. Asuna found him first.
“I saw you sitting with Lord Chinua, Harun,” she said. “I saw you watch me, I saw your face. Have you anything to say?”
Harun gave his best courtly smile. “Other than to compliment you on your dancing, Asuna-san?”
Asuna smiled back at him. “You know, in all the time that I have known you, I don’t think I have heard you speak earnestly. It’s almost as if you play a part, Harun.”
“Are you accusing me of being an actor, Asuna?” Harun asked.
“No,” she said, frowning at him. “I want to really know who you are, Harun, not what you show yourself as.”
“You do?” Harun asked, he looked at her carefully.
His mind went back to what Majid to him before Shiro Moto, how he had said Harun looked good together. He had dismissed it at the time, but the temptation to stay was never far from his thoughts.
“I would like that,” said Harun. He offered her his hand to her, she took it. His duellists hand enclosing her warrior’s one.
Where would this go? Harun wasn’t sure, but wherever it did go he would probably have to make a choice at some stage and hope it was the right one.