Eighteenth Day of the Second Month, Year One Thousand Ten of the Reign of the Ichiya Dynasty

Kimika

The laughter from Takahashi Makoto had started to get old even before her coup against the Resplendent Emperor. Now, with her having claimed the title of Empress through force of arms, every laugh that came from that throne burned at Sato Kimika’s ears. The fact that this laugh seemed to have been sourced by a joke told by Oda Jizomaru, the Third Chosen of Ichiya XL, burned somehow worse.

Sourcing what had happened only eight days ago was difficult. The discovery that the Second and Third had betrayed her now late husband was an indignity. To watch the two spurn the office that they supposedly swore their lives upon by not only continuing to claim the title of Chosen, but having also claimed the First and Second positions for themselves, was a slap in the face that she wasn’t sure she could conscience. But here she sat, watching the proceedings of court with quiet stoicism. She wasn’t sure why she and Jiro were allowed to live after Kosuke’s death, but she had every plan to continue on living for her youngest son. As far as she was aware, he was all that she had left.

“Kimika-san!” Makoto’s frustratingly cheerful voice caught her out of her commiseration. “Please, why don't you make tea for my compatriots and I?”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, but she nodded. She left the room so she could collect the materials she needed. It didn’t bother her that much, in truth, that Makoto was treating her as a common servant. She had always made tea for Ichiya XL and Kosuke when they would have meetings. It was being forced to do what was once an intimate, private thing with two of her most beloved people for this brute that angered her so.

But, there was nothing to be done. And so she swallowed her pride as she found her way to the tea room where The Usurper and her false Chosen had retired to. The three men were joined by Goro Masashi, and it was everything for her not to glare daggers into him. But, despite herself, she was a pillar of calm as the trio continued to talk as if she wasn’t there.

“...We need to keep pressure on the Northern Badlands,” Makoto spoke calmly, her mountainous voice still filling the room despite her trying to be quiet. “I would like to begin the offensive at the start of next year, but we can’t give them the space to communicate with each other.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Jizomaru spoke placidly, a toothy smile showing on his thin, snake-like features. “We have already ordered offensives from Nagata and the northern walls. With any good fortune, we shall be able to keep them disarrayed before we can start the offensive.”

As Kimika slowly began whisking the matcha, Masashi spoke. “Ah, forgive my ignorance, but what is the issue with the Northern badlands? Their threat is so far away from the capital, and I have never heard of them to be so threatening as to require a full offensive.” Kimika’s eyes lingered on him for a moment.

Makoto’s eyes set on him the moment after. “Are you questioning my judgment, Masashi-san? You are not so useful as to be indispensable, Advisor.”

He bowed his head low, in a way he’d never done around Ichiya XL. “Ah, my apologies, my Lady. I assure you that I am not questioning your wisdom. I simply wish to gain understanding, that I might leverage my assets in a manner most useful for you.”

Kimika set the cups in front of each person, pointing the lovely phoenix pattern in each of their directions. Makoto took the opportunity to sip the tea, nodding to Kimika with approval. “Delicious as always, Kimika-san.” As her attention returned to Masashi, whatever softness had been directed at her was returned to him. “The answer to your question, Masashi-san, is simple: we strike them before they strike us. My predecessor was never so wise as to be able to see the threat that the Northern Badlands pose. It is the folly of you doddering courtiers: You’ve never bothered to look at any part of the world that you couldn’t see directly beneath your nose.”

Masashi lowered his eyes, and his voice was hesitant as he spoke. “I apologize, my Lady. I shall attempt to expand my view.”

“See to it that you do,” she said coldly, finishing her tea and turning the cup’s design towards Kimika. Slowly, Kimika took the cup and set it aside, hands folding back into her lap as she waited for the others to finish as well.

“Now, Masashi-san,” Makoto continued. “Please. Tell me how our little pest control job is going.”

Masashi tensed as the question was asked. “W-well,” he said, sipping his drink to give him the space to think. “My agents have reported that the Eighth Chosen has managed to meet with Ichiya Horobei…”

“WHAT?!” Makoto’s voice nearly shattered Kimika’s eardrums with its sudden crescendo. “Masashi-san, this is unacceptable. I kept you alive under the assurance that you would ensure that all traces of the Ichiya line would be ended. And now one of the renegade Chosen has kept him from your ‘elite assassins?’ If you cannot even do this, what use are you to me or my Empire, Masashi-san?”

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As Masashi pushed his cup back towards Kimika, she saw his throat tighten. She couldn’t help but feel a small grain of satisfaction at his nervousness. As he spoke again, she could sense that at least momentarily he seemed out of control. “I wish I could say that I had better news, Makoto-sama. But we still have not been able to discern the Location of the Seventh and Ten Chosen.”

Kimika had collected the remainder of the cups. She stood up just in time to avoid watching Masashi’s head go slamming into the table. Kimika stayed carefully neutral, even as her eyes shot up in alarm. Masashi lifted his head up tentatively, blinking to try to regain his senses. Before he could, Makoto grabbed his head again, slamming his head twice more against the table before letting him go and standing impatiently. “You have one month to find the Seventh and Tenth, Masashi-san. If not, I will be searching for an Imperial Advisor and you will be praying that the Heavens are kinder to you than I am.” She stalked out of the room in a fury, and silently the Second and Third followed her out.

Masashi pushed a line of blood out of the corner of his mouth. Kimika watched quietly, wondering if she should help him or laugh at him. It’s not like he could do worse to her than has already been done. But he dusted himself off stoically, and nodded to her. “I was hoping to tell you about Himari-san in a less… violent circumstance, but alas it seems our aspiring Empress is not nearly so patient as her predecessor.”

“Tell me what?” She hissed, the bowls dropping from her hands as her finger thrust into his chest. “That it’s ok that you betrayed my Husband, her Father? Would you like to tell me that you talked her into leaving the capital as some kind of mercy to her? Or perhaps you would try to tell me that this is part of some elaborate scheme. Which would be on brand for you, Goro Masashi. From the very beginning you have been a schemer.” Tears began streaming down her face with every accusation. For the first time since her husband died, she couldn’t hold back her tears for her husband, and every bit of that rage was pointed at him.

Masashi, to his credit, let her vent her frustrations without a word. Once she was done, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She tried to brush it away, but had little strength for such things. “Himari-san. I am very sorry for all you have lost. I feel Kosuke-san’s loss every bit as much as you do-”

“Oh spare me,” she snapped. “Don’t pretend you cared now that it’s too late to save him.” To punctuate her frustration, she slapped him in the face.

His head turned with her slap, and he rubbed his cheek with a mild expression. “I deserved that,” he chuckled. “And probably worse. But I wish you could trust me when I say that everything that has happened is for the betterment of Seifu. And Kosuke-san agreed with me. You know me, Kimika-san. I would never have harmed him unless it was absolutely necessary.”

Kimika was ready to explode, but Masashi cut her off before she could speak again. “For now, take this to heart. Your daughter is alive, and she is safe. I have done everything that I can for her. Now please, let me do what I can for you. Let me sneak you out of the city. I could send you to her, I could get you and Jiro-kun-”

“Don’t. Say his name,” Kimika’s hands shook as she pointed at him. “I don’t know your game, Masashi-san, but you leave my family out of it. Do you understand me?”

Masashi shook his head and frowned. “I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you that things are going to be that easy. But I think you know that Himari-san won’t sit by and let what has happened continue.” He pushed Kimika off towards the far door. “And believe me, neither will I. I know you will never trust me. But please trust your daughter.” And before she could turn to slap him again, he closed the door behind her.

Kimika made her way quietly back to the Sato estate. It was a blessing that they’d been able to keep it through all else that had happened.

“Momma! Momma!” Jiro’s voice pierced through her thoughts before she could become lost within them. He grabbed her hand tight, pulling her into the estate.

“Jiro-kun, my beloved boy, where are we going?” Kimika wasn’t sure she was in the mood for such things, but she also wasn’t going to be able to defeat the whims of a six year old boy.

Jiro’s pull led her to Himari’s room. Her head tilted in curiosity, but that feeling was quickly sated as he opened the door. Inside, Jiro had cut up a large number of large, pink squares and threw them around the room. Several of them had crude kanji on them that said ‘Happy Birthday.’ Jiro looked up at her excitedly, a silly little grin on his face. “I know that it’s not her birthday for another few weeks, but since she was gone I wanted to go ahead and surprise her! When do you think she’ll be back from her big trip?’

Kimika stared at the sweet boy, tears dropping steadily from her eyes. She dropped to her knees and pulled him in tight, unable to contain herself any longer after the day she’d had. “Oh, my boy,” she whispered between sobs.

“Momma, what is it? Don’t you think she’ll like it?” He hugged her, of course, but she could feel his confusion.

She pulled away then, holding his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. “Of course she will. She is going to love it, Jiro-kun. And when she’s back, we will throw a big party with everyone’s favorite desserts. We’ll have fireworks and music and everything.” At this point, she’d realized she was sobbing.

“Yay!” The young child, entirely oblivious to all the dangers of the world he was inheriting by virtue of his family name, threw his arms around her again. And she pulled him into her, holding him as tight as she could. As her tears flowed freely, she finally took a moment to reflect. As easy as it was to dismiss Masashi, she had to believe the one thing he said that she truly wanted to believe.

Himari was alive. And she was going to see her again.