Re: L5R - Chasing the Winds - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Fic
Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2017 6:56 am
Update here, and we finally meet the Lion Champion.
****
The meals that Harun had shared with the Lion as their guests had been solemn, formal affairs. What he went to that evening was somewhere between that and the family dinners he remembered from Shiro Yogashi, before he had left for the Kakita Academy. There was an air of familiarity about, though somewhat subdued, restrained. Probably by the seriousness of what had gathered them all together.
The room they were in was near one of the outer walls of the castle, high up with a courtyard just outside. They sat at several tables that were pushed together to make one long one, the adults at one end and the children at the other with Harun and Koneko opposite each other in the middle.
Everything was as expected while they were eating, even the children sat quietly in their places. But between courses, things were a little more casual, even among some of the adults. Majid was pulled by the children to their end of the table so he could tell one of their favourite stories. Harun then found himself sitting next to Miraiko’s husband, Akodo Harumasa. He was a rather quiet, unassuming young man, a poet and had been born into the Matsu family. He was quite articulate and knowledgeable about the lore of the Lion clan, answering Harun’s questions about the history of the castle.
When the meal was finished and the hour grew late, the children were led out. And the women took out the babies—Miraiko’s son Bengo and Nikako’s youngest Saburo. Harun looked around and saw Majid and Kibo were talking intently at one end of the table, though of what Harun could only guess.
When Miraiko, Nikako and Koneko returned, sake was served. Somehow the later hour made the mood more subdued. Harun asked Kibo about the war.
“I have not been…involved for…some years,” he said. “But I still hear things, and I’m asked things.” He took a sip of sake, holding the cup carefully. “No doubt, there will be a push again to move on Toshi Ranbo. Perhaps even before the Legions are properly ready.”
“They would do that?” Harun asked.
Kibo and Miraiko exchanged a look across the table.
“If it came to it,” Kibo said with a nod.
“You can’t always be ready when you need to be,” said Miraiko, a little too loftily.
“I think a more interesting question is what will happen to it in the future,” said Majid thoughtfully.
“Well, it…should be the capital…again,” said Kibo with conviction.
“The Crane won’t like that,” Harun pointed out.
“The Crane will have to settle for what they get,” said Miraiko stoutly.
Harun stared back at her.
Kibo shook his head. “We wanted you…to be…spared all this, “ he said to his daughter. “And you Harun, Koneko, Harumasa…this was an…inheritance that we did not…want to pass on.”
Harun nodded, his father Karasu had said those same words to him once.
“There still is the future,” Koneko said in a small voice. “Father always spoke of it, as if…he knew he would not be there to see it.”
Nikako smiled comfortingly at her daughter.
Majid refilled their sake cups. “The let us drink to that,” he said solemnly, holding his cup up in a toast. “To the future, and those who will help forge it. Ganbei.”
Harun was invited to another meeting with the Lion leadership. Majid got one as well, and harun knew this as they shared a room now due to the influx of people arriving for the funeral.
“I do thank you for doing this, Harun,” said Majid. “But I am not sure the Lion Champion will be as amiable.”
“The Lion Champion?” Harun looked at the invitation again. Majid was right, it was for a private audience with the Lion Champion and who knew how many others.
“Surely, you brought your court manners with you, Majid?” Harun teased.
“I seem to have put them with my other horse,” said Majid.
Harun swatted him with the piece of paper.
The wind was strong and cold, blowing the falling snow into their faces that even the hoods of their cloaks couldn’t block out. It was a relief to get into the tenshukaku, but as they climbed higher they could feel and hear the wind rattle and shake the building.
They were shown to the damiyo’s private audience chamber, right up near the top of the tenshukaku. The room was plain, austere and no sign of the status of its occupant. The only decorations: an ikebana arrangement of bamboo and white chrysanthemums and on the far wall a tattered war banner from some long ago Akodo legion.
Akodo Ashida, Champion of the Lion Clan, Damiyo of the Akodo family, was seated on a cushion at the far end of the room beneath the tattered war banner. He was a tall man, in his mid-thirties and his brown and gold kataginu he wore above his kimono made his broad shoulders only look broader. His hair, in a perfect topknot, was greying at the temples and he had a long scar along his chin to his left cheek. His brown eyes were sharp, not missing anything.
Harun couldn’t recall if Ashida was the second or third Lion Champion Kano. But from what Harun had heard about Ashida around the castle in the last few days, he was seen as a shrewd and effective leader.
Ashida regarded Harun with a nod of acknowledgment when he entered, looking up from the document he was reading. Majid got slightly less than that, though the Moto seemed to expect such behaviour. They took their seats on cushions in front of Ashida.
Kitsu Yukiko, who was seated at Ashida’s right, was a little more welcoming.
Next to enter was Ikoma Akira, his scribe’s kit under his arm. He nodded to Harun as he came in, taking his seat at the side of the proceedings.
And finally, in came Nikako with her daughter Koneko. The latter seemed a bit nervous to be included, but her mother’s support did help. As did seeing Harun there.
When they were seated, Ashida put down the document he was reading and cleared his throat.
“From what I understand,” said Ashida, completely without preamble, “this gathering was brought about by no small intervention by you, Kakita Harun-san.”
Harun bowed his head. “I cannot take credit for the decisions of yourself and those who serve you, my lord,” he said. “My only wish was for the truth of Akodo Zetsubou-shryo’s deeds be known. And the best way to do that was to speak with one who worked closely with him: Moto Majid, whom we both called friend.”
Ashida gave a nod of approval. He then held up the document he had been reading and looked at Majid. “I have read the account given to us by Kakita-san,” said Ashida. “But I wish to clarify with you, Moto-san, is one fact that seemed to allude Kakita-san here.”
“I will explain anything that is within my capability to do so, Akodo-ue,” said Majid.
“Then tell me, how is it that Zetsubou-shryo died,” said Ashida. His voice was raised, not in anger but more impatience.
Majid hesitated. “Perhaps that would be best answered by someone more familiar with the ways of the Kitsu,” he said, glancing at Yukiko hopefully.
“I am asking you, Moto-san,” said Ashida.
Majid raised his eyebrows. “Well, he began a little uncertainly. “The Kitsu’s actions that day appeared to be one of mercy.”
“Appeared to be?” Ashida queried.
“Forgive me, Akodo-ue,” Majid said patiently. “But I am hardly an expert on this matter, as I explained.”
“Of course, continue,” said Ashida with a nod.
“This act of mercy was for Zetsubou-shryo, but perhaps for Harun and myself as well, to be spared from killing him,” said Majid, his voice calm and controlled. “When it came for the time for the cleansing to be performed, to unleash and hand over the Light of Tengoku, Zetsubou was in a lot of pain. This was from the amount of Void that was needed to perform the cleansing, which he was not physically prepared for.” Majid looked up directly at Ashida. “His death was imminent, and would have been very painful had the Kitsu not intervened. His spirot was torn from him by the Kitsu, torn both from his body and the plane of Ningen-do.”
“You are certain of this?” Ashida asked.
“I am,” said Majid confidently. “How it was done, I do not know. What this means for Zetsubou’s soul in the Spirit Realms, I do not know. But I do know his spirit is free, with no taint or curse that is attached to it. And not just from what I had seen myself, but from what I have been told by those closest to him.” He nodded to Nikako and Koneko.
“What is this?” Ashida asked in surprise.
“Majid-san speaks true, Akodo-ue,” said Nikako. “Shortly after his death, my husband’s spirit came to our home. He spoke with me and our children before departing.”
Yukiko smiled kindly in response to this, even Ashida looked a little touched.
Majid then pulled out two scroll cases, they were made of brightly coloured cloth decorated in a gaijin style and looked very out of place in this austere room. He pushed one forward, offering it to Ashida.
“Contained in here is a full account of Zetsubou-shryo’s deeds involving the Light of Tengoku ritual. This is from both observation as well as related to me by him. I offer this to the Lion Clan on behalf of the Unicorn Clan, as well as passage and a guide to the site where this all took place.”
After the ritual refusals and offerings, Ashida accepted the scroll. The second scroll Ashida offered to Nikako and Koneko.
“I offer this to you, to your family and to your heirs,” said Majid. “Not only on behalf of the Unicorn Clan, but of my own wish that Zetsubou-shryo’s sacrifice will not be forgotten.”
Hours later, the four of them walked out of the meeting together. Nikako turned to Majid and Harun.
“I cannot thank you enough, both of you,” she said. “Your words stirred far more than mine would have.”
“I doubt that very much, Akodo-san,” said Harun modestly. “Words from the heart are far more sincere.”
Koneko smiled at hearing this, but she was quickly whisked away by her mother before she could say anything.
“Harun, can you do something for me?” Majid asked when they were alone. “Never put me in a den of Lions like that again.”
Harun only laughed.
That night, Harun walked around the castle. The more time he passed in this place, the harder he found it to put his mind at rest. The funeral was tomorrow, and soon after that he would be on his war home.
Providing the weather breaks, Harun thought, looking at the snow that continued to fall thick and fast.
He walked out onto the battlements, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. There was someone else there, cloaked like him, standing out near the edge with their back to Harun. They hadn’t seen him.
He turned to go, wanting to leave whoever it was in peace.
“No, wait.”
Harun stopped. The figure approached him, and when they came close. Harun could see it was Nikako, Zetsubou’s wife and now widow.
“My apologies, Akodo-san,” Harun said, making a bow. “I did not wish to disturb you.”
“You weren’t,” she said. “I wanted to speak with you anyway, Harun. There is no need to be so formal.”
Her voice was friendly and her smile warm, but Harun could see something else. Her eyes were red and puffy, he could see a wet glistening on her face that he knew wasn’t from snow. Were those tears? Had she been crying?
“I only wish to fulfil my duty, Nikako-san,” he said. “I had the privilege of being called friend by Zetsubou, the least I can do is follow his wishes.”
“You are doing more than that, Harun,” she said. “You have been looking forward to the future, just as Zetsubou would have done.” She looked at him, her eyes big and dark. “Like your mother Yamada.”
“Did you know her?” Harun asked.
“A little,” Nikako said. “I was at her wedding, and we met a few times over that winter.” She reached into her cloak and pulled out a fan. She opened it, showing him the kanji character for air on it. “Several of the ladies of court purchased one of a set of fans, your mother was one of them. We pledged to protect each other, thought the sisterhood of the fan.” She paused. “I am not sure if Yamada still carries hers, but that was before everything happened.”
Harun nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.
“How much do you know?” Nikako asked.
“Everything, more or less,” Harun said. “Zetsubou told me a lot, as did others. Zetsubou even tried to have my mother meet me while I was in Unicorn lands, but she would not agree to it.”
Nikako nodded. “It will happen one day, Harun,” she said reassuringly. “Everything has its proper time.” Her voice saddening a little. “That happens to al
****
The meals that Harun had shared with the Lion as their guests had been solemn, formal affairs. What he went to that evening was somewhere between that and the family dinners he remembered from Shiro Yogashi, before he had left for the Kakita Academy. There was an air of familiarity about, though somewhat subdued, restrained. Probably by the seriousness of what had gathered them all together.
The room they were in was near one of the outer walls of the castle, high up with a courtyard just outside. They sat at several tables that were pushed together to make one long one, the adults at one end and the children at the other with Harun and Koneko opposite each other in the middle.
Everything was as expected while they were eating, even the children sat quietly in their places. But between courses, things were a little more casual, even among some of the adults. Majid was pulled by the children to their end of the table so he could tell one of their favourite stories. Harun then found himself sitting next to Miraiko’s husband, Akodo Harumasa. He was a rather quiet, unassuming young man, a poet and had been born into the Matsu family. He was quite articulate and knowledgeable about the lore of the Lion clan, answering Harun’s questions about the history of the castle.
When the meal was finished and the hour grew late, the children were led out. And the women took out the babies—Miraiko’s son Bengo and Nikako’s youngest Saburo. Harun looked around and saw Majid and Kibo were talking intently at one end of the table, though of what Harun could only guess.
When Miraiko, Nikako and Koneko returned, sake was served. Somehow the later hour made the mood more subdued. Harun asked Kibo about the war.
“I have not been…involved for…some years,” he said. “But I still hear things, and I’m asked things.” He took a sip of sake, holding the cup carefully. “No doubt, there will be a push again to move on Toshi Ranbo. Perhaps even before the Legions are properly ready.”
“They would do that?” Harun asked.
Kibo and Miraiko exchanged a look across the table.
“If it came to it,” Kibo said with a nod.
“You can’t always be ready when you need to be,” said Miraiko, a little too loftily.
“I think a more interesting question is what will happen to it in the future,” said Majid thoughtfully.
“Well, it…should be the capital…again,” said Kibo with conviction.
“The Crane won’t like that,” Harun pointed out.
“The Crane will have to settle for what they get,” said Miraiko stoutly.
Harun stared back at her.
Kibo shook his head. “We wanted you…to be…spared all this, “ he said to his daughter. “And you Harun, Koneko, Harumasa…this was an…inheritance that we did not…want to pass on.”
Harun nodded, his father Karasu had said those same words to him once.
“There still is the future,” Koneko said in a small voice. “Father always spoke of it, as if…he knew he would not be there to see it.”
Nikako smiled comfortingly at her daughter.
Majid refilled their sake cups. “The let us drink to that,” he said solemnly, holding his cup up in a toast. “To the future, and those who will help forge it. Ganbei.”
Harun was invited to another meeting with the Lion leadership. Majid got one as well, and harun knew this as they shared a room now due to the influx of people arriving for the funeral.
“I do thank you for doing this, Harun,” said Majid. “But I am not sure the Lion Champion will be as amiable.”
“The Lion Champion?” Harun looked at the invitation again. Majid was right, it was for a private audience with the Lion Champion and who knew how many others.
“Surely, you brought your court manners with you, Majid?” Harun teased.
“I seem to have put them with my other horse,” said Majid.
Harun swatted him with the piece of paper.
The wind was strong and cold, blowing the falling snow into their faces that even the hoods of their cloaks couldn’t block out. It was a relief to get into the tenshukaku, but as they climbed higher they could feel and hear the wind rattle and shake the building.
They were shown to the damiyo’s private audience chamber, right up near the top of the tenshukaku. The room was plain, austere and no sign of the status of its occupant. The only decorations: an ikebana arrangement of bamboo and white chrysanthemums and on the far wall a tattered war banner from some long ago Akodo legion.
Akodo Ashida, Champion of the Lion Clan, Damiyo of the Akodo family, was seated on a cushion at the far end of the room beneath the tattered war banner. He was a tall man, in his mid-thirties and his brown and gold kataginu he wore above his kimono made his broad shoulders only look broader. His hair, in a perfect topknot, was greying at the temples and he had a long scar along his chin to his left cheek. His brown eyes were sharp, not missing anything.
Harun couldn’t recall if Ashida was the second or third Lion Champion Kano. But from what Harun had heard about Ashida around the castle in the last few days, he was seen as a shrewd and effective leader.
Ashida regarded Harun with a nod of acknowledgment when he entered, looking up from the document he was reading. Majid got slightly less than that, though the Moto seemed to expect such behaviour. They took their seats on cushions in front of Ashida.
Kitsu Yukiko, who was seated at Ashida’s right, was a little more welcoming.
Next to enter was Ikoma Akira, his scribe’s kit under his arm. He nodded to Harun as he came in, taking his seat at the side of the proceedings.
And finally, in came Nikako with her daughter Koneko. The latter seemed a bit nervous to be included, but her mother’s support did help. As did seeing Harun there.
When they were seated, Ashida put down the document he was reading and cleared his throat.
“From what I understand,” said Ashida, completely without preamble, “this gathering was brought about by no small intervention by you, Kakita Harun-san.”
Harun bowed his head. “I cannot take credit for the decisions of yourself and those who serve you, my lord,” he said. “My only wish was for the truth of Akodo Zetsubou-shryo’s deeds be known. And the best way to do that was to speak with one who worked closely with him: Moto Majid, whom we both called friend.”
Ashida gave a nod of approval. He then held up the document he had been reading and looked at Majid. “I have read the account given to us by Kakita-san,” said Ashida. “But I wish to clarify with you, Moto-san, is one fact that seemed to allude Kakita-san here.”
“I will explain anything that is within my capability to do so, Akodo-ue,” said Majid.
“Then tell me, how is it that Zetsubou-shryo died,” said Ashida. His voice was raised, not in anger but more impatience.
Majid hesitated. “Perhaps that would be best answered by someone more familiar with the ways of the Kitsu,” he said, glancing at Yukiko hopefully.
“I am asking you, Moto-san,” said Ashida.
Majid raised his eyebrows. “Well, he began a little uncertainly. “The Kitsu’s actions that day appeared to be one of mercy.”
“Appeared to be?” Ashida queried.
“Forgive me, Akodo-ue,” Majid said patiently. “But I am hardly an expert on this matter, as I explained.”
“Of course, continue,” said Ashida with a nod.
“This act of mercy was for Zetsubou-shryo, but perhaps for Harun and myself as well, to be spared from killing him,” said Majid, his voice calm and controlled. “When it came for the time for the cleansing to be performed, to unleash and hand over the Light of Tengoku, Zetsubou was in a lot of pain. This was from the amount of Void that was needed to perform the cleansing, which he was not physically prepared for.” Majid looked up directly at Ashida. “His death was imminent, and would have been very painful had the Kitsu not intervened. His spirot was torn from him by the Kitsu, torn both from his body and the plane of Ningen-do.”
“You are certain of this?” Ashida asked.
“I am,” said Majid confidently. “How it was done, I do not know. What this means for Zetsubou’s soul in the Spirit Realms, I do not know. But I do know his spirit is free, with no taint or curse that is attached to it. And not just from what I had seen myself, but from what I have been told by those closest to him.” He nodded to Nikako and Koneko.
“What is this?” Ashida asked in surprise.
“Majid-san speaks true, Akodo-ue,” said Nikako. “Shortly after his death, my husband’s spirit came to our home. He spoke with me and our children before departing.”
Yukiko smiled kindly in response to this, even Ashida looked a little touched.
Majid then pulled out two scroll cases, they were made of brightly coloured cloth decorated in a gaijin style and looked very out of place in this austere room. He pushed one forward, offering it to Ashida.
“Contained in here is a full account of Zetsubou-shryo’s deeds involving the Light of Tengoku ritual. This is from both observation as well as related to me by him. I offer this to the Lion Clan on behalf of the Unicorn Clan, as well as passage and a guide to the site where this all took place.”
After the ritual refusals and offerings, Ashida accepted the scroll. The second scroll Ashida offered to Nikako and Koneko.
“I offer this to you, to your family and to your heirs,” said Majid. “Not only on behalf of the Unicorn Clan, but of my own wish that Zetsubou-shryo’s sacrifice will not be forgotten.”
Hours later, the four of them walked out of the meeting together. Nikako turned to Majid and Harun.
“I cannot thank you enough, both of you,” she said. “Your words stirred far more than mine would have.”
“I doubt that very much, Akodo-san,” said Harun modestly. “Words from the heart are far more sincere.”
Koneko smiled at hearing this, but she was quickly whisked away by her mother before she could say anything.
“Harun, can you do something for me?” Majid asked when they were alone. “Never put me in a den of Lions like that again.”
Harun only laughed.
That night, Harun walked around the castle. The more time he passed in this place, the harder he found it to put his mind at rest. The funeral was tomorrow, and soon after that he would be on his war home.
Providing the weather breaks, Harun thought, looking at the snow that continued to fall thick and fast.
He walked out onto the battlements, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head. There was someone else there, cloaked like him, standing out near the edge with their back to Harun. They hadn’t seen him.
He turned to go, wanting to leave whoever it was in peace.
“No, wait.”
Harun stopped. The figure approached him, and when they came close. Harun could see it was Nikako, Zetsubou’s wife and now widow.
“My apologies, Akodo-san,” Harun said, making a bow. “I did not wish to disturb you.”
“You weren’t,” she said. “I wanted to speak with you anyway, Harun. There is no need to be so formal.”
Her voice was friendly and her smile warm, but Harun could see something else. Her eyes were red and puffy, he could see a wet glistening on her face that he knew wasn’t from snow. Were those tears? Had she been crying?
“I only wish to fulfil my duty, Nikako-san,” he said. “I had the privilege of being called friend by Zetsubou, the least I can do is follow his wishes.”
“You are doing more than that, Harun,” she said. “You have been looking forward to the future, just as Zetsubou would have done.” She looked at him, her eyes big and dark. “Like your mother Yamada.”
“Did you know her?” Harun asked.
“A little,” Nikako said. “I was at her wedding, and we met a few times over that winter.” She reached into her cloak and pulled out a fan. She opened it, showing him the kanji character for air on it. “Several of the ladies of court purchased one of a set of fans, your mother was one of them. We pledged to protect each other, thought the sisterhood of the fan.” She paused. “I am not sure if Yamada still carries hers, but that was before everything happened.”
Harun nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.
“How much do you know?” Nikako asked.
“Everything, more or less,” Harun said. “Zetsubou told me a lot, as did others. Zetsubou even tried to have my mother meet me while I was in Unicorn lands, but she would not agree to it.”
Nikako nodded. “It will happen one day, Harun,” she said reassuringly. “Everything has its proper time.” Her voice saddening a little. “That happens to al