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Sonova
Miizu and Motoko

Miizu and Motoko

Chapter 1

Will I watch somebody die today?

Motoko Kawaguchi had been pondering the questions as she knelt patiently on one of the twelve mats on the floor in an empty room made of bamboo walls and polished oak floors and tables as she looked out the window. Each mat was furnished with a knee-high table, perfect for kneeling and writing during the meeting that was to start any minute now. Motoko had heard of other nations constantly using chairs for meetings and meals, which seemed impersonal and unusual for the people of Miizu. The Miizunese were a disciplined, dedicated, and structured people who prided themselves on achieving excellence...or literally die trying.

Motoko checked her outfit and hair in a mirror on a nearby wall, looking herself over and making sure she looked properly groomed for this upcoming meeting. Her arctic blue hair seemed almost silver under a certain light, and it was pulled back into a ponytail and a headband across her forehead had helped keep her bangs from spilling into her eyesight. She had a gray and white patterned kimono with a silky black sash tied at her middle. She supposed she looked professional enough for the other women of importance coming into the meeting. While she had been in several meetings with the 12 leading women of Ryoko Village (or the Ladies Dozen as they were sometimes referred to) as an assistant to her mother, this was going to be the first time her mother had placed in her in charge of making decisions and being the voice of a leader in her communities. She had watched how her mother conducted during the hundreds of meetings she had brought Motoko to study and learn from; how and when she was to speak, what tones of voice to use when speaking to certain ranking people in certain situations, and most important of all, when to not speak at all.

Motoko was listening to the gentle chirping of the birds in a tree right outside the town hall building she had resided in. Town Hall had been a large, multi-leveled building that stood several levels higher than any other building that resided in the city, and one of the tallest buildings in the entire nation. The only other buildings that stood taller were the City Hall buildings in Ji-Woo and Xho City, but those were also made several centuries after the Ryoko Village City Hall, and also with the intent on surpassing its size. And even though the tallest building of the three stood at an amazing 14 floors, there had been certain people Motoko had met who scoffed at the number, saying in nations like Ryn and Ghald they had buildings that were almost a hundred stories. Motoko knew they were lies. Motoko had read and seen evidence of what happens when a building stood too tall; most of the time the buildings would collapse to one side by the blow of the wind, even when the buildings were made of the strongest and sturdiest woods in the land.

Motoko heard the fluttering of the singing birds’ feathers as they took flight from the sound of people approaching. A moment later, the shoji, the paper-thin screen used as doors and walls in the building, opened and Motoko watched as the eleven other women leaders of the city strolled through, each entering a respectful distance from another. She noticed as the first two women separately entered that the seats were arranged much like the numbers on a clock, and the head Lady’s seat sat in the 12 position. It was considered extremely rude to enter the room before the woman in front of you had at least reached her sitting mat, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was appear rude, uncultured, or ignorant of the respect that must be shown to a particular person or tradition. It wasn’t uncommon for people to take their own lives when they felt they had failed in being honorable in the land of Miizu.

Motoko tried not to stare at each woman as she entered the room. She knew about half of them by their reputations and learned over time how to conduct herself around them. She met with them for years in the meetings she attended and collected information on the small things about these ladies (what tea they enjoyed, what things irritated them while discussing business, etc.) and big things about them (what business they brought to Ryoko Village, and who their families and heirs were among other things.). But women who attended these meetings didn’t always attend for themselves; sometimes a proper Lady would send a close adviser in their stead to act as their voice of reason. And the representatives that may come work for one leader would change over the course of years, months, or even as short as a couple of weeks if the lackey didn’t fare well enough. Sometimes a leader would have two or three representatives that she could switch around in case she had multiple meetings in a day, or if she were to travel out of the city and needed multiple things to be attended to.

As the women slowly piled into their assigned seats, Motoko took notice of the different color kimonos being worn by all the women. The kimonos were all colored with two colors and basic patterns, but made of the finest silks. It was customary to not be over-flashy with colors and heavy design work on your clothing; it was said too much would cause the eyes to focus on the clothes, and would take the eyes and attention away from the person wearing them. But purchasing fine material showed social status. It might not have looked like the kimonos were different to an untrained eye, but each person in their city region, if not the entire nation, had understood when they were in the presence of somebody of high class simply from the materials their clothes were made from. Motoko wondered what a foreigner might have thought if you asked them to point out the highest-ranking person in the room based on their clothing.

When all of the seats and tables were filled aside from the seat at a floor mat with extra cushions and a wider table set for the seat of the head Lady, the rest of the ladies waited quietly and motionlessly. It was customary for the most important person in a meeting to arrive last, seeing as a leader had an entire city to care for and their busyness should reflect that. Some leaders would make their pupils wait nearly an hour in their stillness just to flex some of their power and make sure their underlings knew their place. But, as everyone in Miizu was aware: if a leader chosen to rule by the people is demanded to leave office before their official term is over, they were to pay the failures to their people with their life.

This was the very thing Motoko knew this meeting was about. One of the men given minimal power in the community was slacking on his duties. Motoko had no idea which of the handful of men who had been given authority had been messing up, nor did she know how bad. Some of the men were given warnings as to how horrendous a job they were doing before they had the office meeting to request they sacrifice their lives.

The ladies continued sitting in silence, some did minimal moving as they looked through notes they had on their personal table. Motoko wondered if the pages and pages of notes were about the meeting they were about to attend? Pages of notes weren’t a good sign if you were being called in by the Ladies Dozen; it was proof of your insolent mistakes written down over the course of time that any of the twelve ladies or their followers were paying attention to.

Some of the things people may have been accused of could be petty, a sign that one of the Ladies simply didn’t like you. It didn’t matter the weight of your crime, but rather the number of women who had voiced their concerns. If one-third of the council had decided to voice their unhappiness towards those brought for judgment, your only hope was that this was a warning meeting and not a meeting to discuss your death. If half of the council or more had shared this displeasure, your death was more a matter of if you wanted to honorably end your own life, or if someone had to cut you down and be remembered as a coward.

The room’s door slid open again, and every lady kneeling at her table began to bow as low as they could on the ground. Motoko could hear the footsteps of Lady Megumi walk light and seamlessly across the conference hall, while a few of her body guards thumped and loudly shuffled to their positions around their sworn leader. While she had heard eyes closed, she could still hear and see in her mind’s eye how Lady Megumi had spread papers on her table in a specific order to how important they were. There was a moment of shuffling papers before she had spoken, “Rise.” was all she needed to say.

The group had listened and began to rise off the floor in unison, some of them needing to smooth out the wrinkles in their clothes or straighten their hair once more. Motoko looked at Lady Megumi and felt the same pride inside her swell just like any other time she had seen her fearless leader. Lady Megumi had dark and deep blue hair, styled in the same manner as Motoko. Motoko copied her hair style once she had realized how much she respected Lady Megumi and wanted to counsel with the same mercy- and occasional ruthlessness that was necessary- and shown by her Lady. Lady Megumi’s kimono was the purest white in color with black trimming around the neck and cuffs of the arms and bottom of her kimono, her sash a blood red. There was a beautifully printed crane about to take flight on the back of her kimono, the most decorative Motoko had ever seen. While most people might have been scolded or talked about for being too bold and loud with the concept of designs on kimonos, Lady Megumi was exactly the type who could pull it off. People both respected it while knowing they couldn’t present the fashion as well if they ever tried to imitate her boldness.

“Thank you, Ladies, for coming today. I know many of us have plenty of work that needs attending to, so I’ll try to not take up too much of our time today. Before we discuss the main reason that brings us here today, is there any other news, issues, or anything of the like that needs discussing?”

A few hands shot up in request to speak. It was rare to have a meeting where nobody had anything to say; every meeting had at least a couple ladies who had some type of news or business problems they wanted to be able to vent about. It was rumored that the only type of meetings they proceeded without any questions or complaints were the meetings that were designed to be entirely a death sentence. Some of the proper Ladies couldn’t wait to get rid of those below them that were given authority, half of the reasons tended to be personal or petty. One woman might have felt like a businessman had cheated her in a sale, which was a more reasonable reason for being called for a meeting as past meetings had indicated. Another woman simply might accuse and set up meetings for a man who had feelings for another woman or simply didn’t reciprocate the feelings mutually, one of the pettier reasons a man had found himself full of holes and loss of limbs.

Lady Sakura, a tall and thin lady in a lavender kimono with eyes bunched too close together and two prominent buck teeth that made her look like a whisker-less rat, was first to raise her hand and Lady Megumi made note of it as she allowed her to speak, and the other hands fell silently.

“Well, to start off this meeting with some good news, as overseer of the rice industry in our region of Miizu, I’m proud to announce that we are well stocked and harvested for the longest and harshest of winters, so long as we don’t populate a few thousand more babies in the next coming months.” Lady Sakura announced, not hiding the fact that she was pleased with the work and news she had to offer to the community. “My advisers of the fields have told me that we may even have enough to spare for a week-long festival to celebrate the upcoming Ceremony of the Moon, to bring good vibrations and good fortune to those who are to be wed and end the cycle of daemons. That is if miladies have enough resources aside from food to provide for the occasion?” there was a smugness in her voice, and Motoko was almost positive that she didn’t try to hide it at all. Motoko knew that Lady Sakura had rarely even gone out to the rice and vegetable fields she owned, let alone did she do any of the actual work involved in making it happen. She was simply a manager who was over-crediting herself, and Motoko was certain the same thoughts were on the minds of every lady here. Lady Sakura was, at times, much too full of herself.

The ladies took turns going around the circle, each sharing what goods and services they could provide for the festival if it were to happen. Lady Asuna, a fat, short woman in a light orange kimono who seemed as jolly as she did heavy, said she had provision of wood for the stands for the market and other constructive needs that might have had to go for the festival, “So long as nobody decides to burn the village down first.” she joked. Lady Naru, a woman in a forest-green kimono and in her forties with graying hair and a slight hunch, mention she had fields of fabric being harvested over the last few weeks, and while she was fairly sure the numbers were good enough to make cloth and tents and specialty clothes and costumes, she needed to wait until the end of the week to view the numbers to avoid giving a false promise. Young Shizuru, a young assistant of Lady Yumi in her late-teens and a sky-blue kimono, had mentioned that her proper Lady hadn’t sent her notes of anything of a festival, seeing as it wasn’t a planned topic of the meeting, and would need to relay and give information at a later date. They made their rounds around the table until they concluded that, as long as the few ladies who stated they most likely could help actually could provide what they were asked of, then the festival was going to be a go. They planned for it to happen in three months, a couple months after the actual Ceremony of the Moon, but it wasn’t as if the people of Miizu were going to complain; a festival was a rare and special treat that gave everyone an excuse from their regular duties.

The conversations shifted between different needs and reports. Daemons had been scouted several miles southeast of Miko, a village far to the north that bordered along the Xho City providence, and people wondered if it was wise to send their own troops since they were a part of their own providence, or if they should expect Xho City to lend aid, seeing as they were closer. The Ryoko Village, Xho City and the city of Ji-woo, a major city to the south, were capital of a province that split the nation into three ways. While they all spoke the same native language, as well as the common tongue, they had very different approaches to life.

The people of Ji-woo and the cities under its name were peaceful people who believed in accepting the unfair conditions life had to offer and being able to find peace among the fiercest chaos. Ryoko Village and all its cities had believed in crafting perfection in all things, whether it was fighting, cooking, woodwork, or education, Ryoko Village and its fellow people pushed to be the best they could be. The people of Xho City were fierce warriors who wanted to expand and conquer the nation of Miizu by finding a way to send large-scale forces through the barrier. War and domination seemed to be their only focus, though luckily, they didn’t have eyes on anything inside their own nations’ borders. Each capital city had a leading lady, like Lady Megumi for Ryoko Village, and a council. The three cities did their best to help lend a hand with each other as far as trade and keeping daemons away, but sometimes their differences in philosophy and lifestyle had caused them to not get the best end results.

“Now,” Lady Megumi said after a period of silence once the questions and comments stopped flowing, her voice going from casual to a shade darker. “I think it’s time we finally got to the matter that brought us here. Could you please find Mr. Kawahara and bring him in here, and you two, could you please bring in the red mat, please." She spoke to the four women who acted as her bodyguard, standing still and statuesque while the rest of the room stood. All four women nodded, acknowledging her commands in silence as they dispersed in groups of two. After the two left, Lady Megumi looked back at the circle of women who had filled the room. “Are we all sure this is a meeting that is necessary? It’s not too late to call it-”

“We’re entirely too certain.” Lady Sakura said icily, before forgetting who it was she had just interrupted. “My apologies, my Lady, for my rudeness, but I think more than enough of us have had just about enough of Mr. Kawahara’s... leadership.” She dressed the last word in cold sarcasm.

Motoko heard a few of the other women stifle laughs and chuckles at the term. It was a well-known fact to both men and women of Miizu that men were given roles of importance only in the rare moments that leaders of other nations might need to have a meeting of diplomacy. Out in the rest of the world, men had ruled over everything from government to household ownership, from inheritances to even being able to tell a woman how to dress and live in certain parts of the world. 800 years before, when men had almost zero leadership roles given to them, the men of other countries didn’t take the Miizunese women seriously. Some leaders were overly flirtatious and grabby, which resulted in a few men losing said hands. That didn’t bode well for neighboring relations.

The women of Miizu had appointed trusted men to fulfill the roles of “power” in case anybody from the outside world wanted to make a trade or speak with someone of authority. The men were a puppet and the women the puppet-master, but it was a system that had worked for a majority of both parties. The women made sure that no man would ever crave the role or grow too power-hungry by placing certain rules upon certain roles. Mr. Kawahara had been appointed as Mayor of Ryoko village, the highest honor a man could carry. But with high honor came with high risks.

One of the groups of body guards who had left came back into the room, each holding what looked like a large, red rolled-up scroll each end several feet away from each other. They had set down the large, thick parchment on the floor and unraveled enough for an even, red square to fill up the center of the room. Most of the giant roll of the red material was still raveled, as if there were miles worth of the material bundled up. Once the process was over, the body guards stood next to Lady Megumi, resuming their tranquil stillness. It had taken nearly twenty minutes before there was a knock on the support beams of the paper door.

“Come in.” Lady Megumi announced.

The remaining two bodyguards were first to step into the room, going straight to the same spots they were standing before they left the room. A moment later, Mr. Kawahara slowly and almost fearfully inched into the room. He had looked all around, from each one of the ladies, to the body guards and their weapons, the rest of the room décor, and then back at the ladies, moving as slowly as possible to the middle of the red square floor that was laid out without being too obvious that he was stalling. His uneasiness didn’t seem to diminish once he was in the middle of the room, center of unwanted attention.

Soichiro Kawahara was a man in his mid-30s, with thinning and receding navy-blue hair, and a pencil-thin mustache, his roundish face reminded Motoko of a river otter turned human. Mr. Kawahara was somebody in her community Motoko had mixed feelings about. Growing up as a little girl, he was an older teen who was a wondrous help to his family and neighboring houses. He had helped Motoko’s mother and grandmother with several chores that weren’t his responsibility, simply because he had spare time and a gentle heart. And almost every time he had come over, he brought Motoko a treat of candy or a small toy she could play with. While she had never gotten to know him on a personal level, she had pleasant memories about him.

However, as she grew older into her teen years, and he was still in his twenties, Motoko couldn’t help but notice him staring at her every now and then. It took a long time for Motoko’s battle-ready mind to grasp the fact that he had been eyeing her body as she changed from a child to a woman, and the glances and stares only grew in number as the years passed. He had never made any type of advances, whether physical or verbal, but the looks were enough to send a creeping chill down her spine. Even in the land of Miizu where the age of consent was considered to be the moment a girl started to bleed, Motoko couldn’t help but feel that he should be more attentive to women his own age. But as it turned out, he was interested in just about anybody who was old enough to bed. He was caught more than a few times peeping into the out springs on the outskirts of town. There was no shame in nudity in Miizu, women could walk the streets topless on the hotter days that involved working outside. But it became something different when a man went actively looking for shapely bodies.

Motoko didn’t know how this meeting was about to go for him, nor did she know how she felt about either option. He was just as kind to her and others in the village as he was a perverted creep, and that was the internal struggle for Motoko on this matter. Honor and duty first, she could hear her mother’s repeated words over the years. No love, no family, no faith nor history should derive you from your duty and honor as a woman of Miizu. She knew the truth was doubled for her since she was a high ranking and respected warrior.

“Mr. Kawahara, thank you for arriving here today.” Lady Megumi said politely, giving her head a small bow to show courtesy. He matched her bow with a slightly lower one, showing his respect, but not showing desperation by bowing too low. It was often seen as guilt if one was to bow too low when uncertain of being summoned by a person of high authority, her mother’s voice rang in her head from another lesson at another point in her life. A Miizunese person should show as much respect for themselves as they do for their community, whether it be peers or superiors.

“I… I’m honestly, n-not too sure...” Mr. Kawahara tried putting on a brave face and a joking smile, but everyone could smell the fear behind his facade. His eyes kept darting from Lady to Lady, trying to get an analyst of the reason for the meeting, and what his fate might be.

“Well, for starters, can you tell us your name and title?”

“My…?” he was about to repeat, and thought better of it. He cleared his throat and tried to reposition himself to look more confident. “I am Soichiro, first son of the Kawahara name, and as of four years ago I was given the honor to be the mayor of this beautiful city.”

Pretty words and flattery get you nowhere, Motoko could hear her mother’s disapproving voice in Mr. Kawahara’s attempt of flowery words. Especially for a proper Lady.

“And please, Mr. Kawahara, could you explain your responsibilities as mayor?” Lady Megumi smoothed out her dress as she remained as poise and elegant as a true leader should. There was no anger or malice in her voice, but there was no sense of favoritism or familiarity either. She was a firm-but-fair leader of her community, and any stranger who might have walked in the room would have picked up on that immediately.

“Well, my… I-I guess, well- what I mean to say is-” Mr. Kawahara stammered.

“Today, if you and your rambling mouth could manage, Mr. Kawahara.” Lady Sakura said icily, and a round of stifled laughs could be heard. If it was possible, Mr. Kawahara’s shoulders would have slumped even more, Motoko thought. She couldn’t get past the feeling that perhaps Lady Sakura and her rat face had been behind this possible-execution. While Mr. Kawahara had been pervy from time to time, he at least tried to hide his shameful acts, whereas Lady Sakura seemed to hatefully mean without thought or consideration.

“Right, well…” Mr. Kawahara took a deep breath and tried to find his composure again. Seeing this man shake like a leaf made Motoko wonder why he was chosen to be the leader of this city, but after getting a look at Lady Sakura’s overly smug face, Motoko couldn’t help but wonder if she had set him up for the job knowing he might end up with this type of performance review before his five years were over. “My responsibilities as mayor is to make sure every person in this region of Miizu is as protected, well-fed, educated and given honorable jobs as well as possible by working along with you proper Ladies and your industries. It is my job to help fulfill the needs of the village, and to you Ladies, by any means necessary.”

“And do you know the punishment for failing to help your village or your Ladies?” Lady Megumi asked. Motoko wondered how it was that she was able to keep her voice steady enough to not throw hints as to what she might be thinking. Even though Motoko could sense things probably weren’t going to end well with Mr. Kawahara, the way Lady Megumi spoke gave equal parts to both hope and despair at the same time.

“If I am summoned for a performance review, the Ladies may take a turn to question my worth to the community. If she has proven facts of disapproval, and I have no evidence to defend myself, each lady is allowed to make a shallow cut to give me the scars to remember my lessons of failures. And if...” Mr. Kawahara couldn’t help but gulp. “...and if more than one of the Ladies have made me bleed, any ladies with any issues of mine may slice, stab and gouge anywhere on my person, as deep or limb-removing as they feel necessary for my crimes.” And a man must do so without any resistance, or he automatically forfeits his life, and any man who cries out or weeps while being hacked away at will be dishonored as a coward who couldn’t face death like a true resident of Miizu, was the part of the whole situation Motoko knew was on everyone’s minds but nobody’s lips. A man had to simply accept getting mutilated with quiet disregard.

“And you knew of these consequences of the position, yet you took it anyways, correct? There have been many men who take their own lives the moment they are given the title of mayor to avoid being bludgeoned by the Ladies of this land. What made you think it was worth the risk?”

“Well, my Lady… I thought… I thought I could bring my family honor. I thought I could do enough to help the community in any way that I could.”

“Right,” Lady Megumi said, as if his answer was only something he thought they wanted to hear. “But what made you decide to take the position? What was in it for you? What benefits were there?”

“Well, a man who serves his five years fully gets to live a life of free food for himself and family, and he gets to move his mother and sisters into a house among the tree branches like the other rich and noble families. A man who lives in the mansions among the branches is said to be favorable and desirable for a woman to court or be invited into her bed. The combination of these things was what made me feel that I could do a fair job and succeed at this job, my Lady.”

“And how do you feel you’ve done with the job so far?” Lady Megumi questioned.

“There are no starving families, and we’ve harvested a great amount of food to last the winter, and we’ve pooled in enough resources to hopefully have a festival, I’ve heard.”

Mr. Kawahara spoke with as much confidence as he could muster considering the situation, but Motoko couldn’t help but notice an amused smile on Lady Sakura’s lips, as if his confidence was a paper-shield and she had an ace in the hole to destroy it. Other Ladies were more stone-faced but delight could be read in their eyes. Motoko checked the rotation order, and noted that Lady Sakura was sixth in line for contributing her evidence against Mr. Kawahara. As long as three of the Ladies before her didn’t have anything against Mr. Kawahara, he had a chance of surviving. Motoko knew that Lady Sakura was out to get him, but she had no idea why. Motoko was the eleventh in line, the second-to-last before Lady Megumi herself. Motoko didn’t have anything to say against him, but she was one out of twelve, and she didn’t know if there were any secret grudges being held against him.

“Well, Mr. Kawahara, if you’re ready, I would like to get this meeting under way.” she waited for him to give a small, shy nod of forced approval, knowing there was no honorable way out of this other than going through with it. She turned to her left to the first Lady to give her testimony. “Go ahead, Lady Asuna.”

The jolly and round woman had nodded, and opened a drawer in the table in front of her, and all the noble Ladies had done the same thing. Each woman took out a ceremonially dressed dagger, each with the same black and silver sheath and red feather attached to the tail end of it. It was a weapon made only for council judgments, passed down from council member to council member for nearly a thousand years. Lady Asuna waltzed up to stand only a few feet in front of Mr. Kawahara, just barely out of arm's reach before drawing the blade from the sheath, which was customary to the tradition. The person being judged would listen a lot more intently to the things they’ve done wrong if their judge’s weapon was drawn and taunting before it feasted on blood and flesh.

“Mr. Kawahara...” she said, in the most serious tone Motoko had ever heard come out of the happy-go-lucky woman. But as quickly as her smile faded, it returned. “As much as your house smells like fried catfish most of the time we walk past,” a few chuckles come from the group. “I don’t find any wrong or disservice you’ve done for me or any of my industries.” she sheathed the blade, the traditional and official sign that there was no harmful intent, and he had been cleared of his first judgment.

“Thank you, Lady Asuna,” Mr. Kawahara said customarily. It was considered extremely rude to not thank a person for not slicing you open, and a Lady might change her mind if a person didn’t show their courtesies. Lady Asuna gave her usually cheerful smile as she gave a small bow and returned to her seat as Mr. Kawahara nervously awaited his next judge.

Young Shizuru, the assistant for the missing Lady Yumi, was next to rise, along with the sheathed blade. Unlike how most women were during a time of judgment, Shizuru had been easy to read as far as her intention for Mr. Kawahara’s fate, which was highly nervous. It wasn’t her fault; Motoko couldn’t think of a time that Shizuru might have seen this type of tradition in person, let alone cast judgment upon somebody. She held the blade anxiously, almost holding the sheath shut as she walked up. Motoko wondered how many other women could read Shizuru’s behavior and what their thoughts might be on the situation. She walked up and gave Mr. Kawahara a small bow and an even smaller smile.

“Mr. Kawahara,” her voice nearly exploded in volume, showing how nervous she had been. She cleared her voice and tried to compose herself among all the peering and judging eyes. It was moments like these that made or broke assistants from becoming powerful women in their community. “In our current time and place, my lady and I do not find any faults or disservice you’ve done for us or any of our industries.”

“Thank you, la- Young Shizuru.” Mr. Kawahara almost slipped and announced Shizuru as a proper Lady, but caught himself. She returned his kindness with the same small bow and small smile before clutching the blade to her chest as she walked back to her seat, almost fearful the blade would spill out and automatically cut somebody. Well, two down, and nine other women to go.

Without much more said, the third lady, Lady Naru, had risen with her blade and walked over to Mr. Kawahara, her face and demeanor significantly harder to read than Young Shizuru. Almost nearing the age of retirement and being a proper Lady for most of her adult life, the tougher times that Ryoko Village may have seen in her lifetime was etched into the growing wrinkles on her face, as well as the growing gray hairs. If anybody were to be given an award for having the best poker-face, very few would have contended with Lady Naru. Her forest green kimono barely moved as she gracefully walked from her seat to the center of the hall. Motoko wondered if her gracefulness came from years of battles she heard rumored, and if so, what type of monster Lady Naru was with a sword in her hand.

“Mr. Kawahara,” she stated, and it still felt like nobody could tell if it was good or bad news. “I have known you for many years, most of your life in fact, and in all that time you have never done anything to directly harm me, my family nor my industries.” It seemed like Mr. Kawahara was a bit relieved, but Motoko couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too soon to know for sure. “However,” the curtness in her voice brought back the fear into Mr. Kawahara’s posture. “Eight months ago, you were asked to order some important oils and paints for the artistic school that I run on the outskirts of town. When I went to receive the order, not only was it not available to be received, but you had forgotten to order it in general. I had lost three girls who were deeply interested in the class due to lack of product. Your forgetfulness has cost me some of my reputation, and for that, I cannot allow it to go unwarranted.”

Motoko didn’t even see Lady Naru removed the blade from its sheath before she saw the blade slash with a blinding speed, small patches of blood flew onto the matching red floor as Mr. Kawahara muffled his cries of pain and held the spot of his left leg he was sliced, still trying to stand as motionless and calm as he was just a moment ago. He covered the wound with one hand to try and keep the blood from falling onto the carpet. You cannot appear weak, even among the cruelest of judgments, Motoko could hear her mother’s wisdom speak to her. Lady Naru quickly whipped her sword to remove any of the blood that clung hungrily to the blade before sheathing it and returning to her seat without a single word being uttered. Motoko watched as she sat, and still couldn’t tell if the harm she caused Mr. Kawahara was something she generally didn’t care about, or if her poker-face lived up to the reputation she had acquired.

Lady Aori, the youngest of the Ladies on the council who had her blue hair a shade lighter than Motoko’s and almost always dressed in a cherry-blossom shade of pink even when she wore more casual clothes, was up next. Motoko didn’t know too much about Lady Aori, and half of the reason was due to the fact that she was so new and young to the council. Most of the young people growing up in the village were very good at doing what they were told, but not too much on how to think for themselves, and Motoko got that very impression from Lady Aori. She wanted to make her peers and superiors happy and respect her, almost too eagerly. She would most likely cast her judgment so that it would bode well with the Ladies of the council in the future. But even though Motoko didn’t know what the general thoughts on Mr. Kawahara were for the room, she noticed that he looked almost more nervous of Lady Aori than he did Lady Naru.

“Mr. Kawahara,” Lady Aori started, her voice strong and true, as if there was no doubt in the judgments she was about to set. “It has been rumored that you like to peep in on some of the Ladies in our village. You have always done a good job keeping your eyes away from the Ladies of the council, but I was put on the council only nine months ago. Prior to that, I can count and recall a total of five times I have found you peeping on me, from the local hot springs all the way to my bedroom window, I have seen you catching a glimpse of my body. Do you deny it?”

Mr. Kawahara opened his mouth to say something, but something held him back from doing so. Motoko figured he had something to say in his defense, but it probably wasn’t enough to change the mind of Lady Aori or any of the ladies who had heard this tale of shamelessness. Cowards made excuses and people of honor faced the truth nobly, no matter how harsh it might be. Mr. Kawahara closed his mouth and simply shook his head before hanging it low.

While the gash Lady Naru inflicted was deep enough to bleed a decent amount, it hadn’t been as aggressive as Lady Aori’s deep and forceful stab to his unscathed leg, directly in the upper thigh. She jammed the dagger into his leg, forcing Mr. Kawahara to muffle an even longer and painful cry of suffering. Anybody else in a different room wouldn’t have heard his cries, and that’s what a person being judged had wanted. Weaklings and fools made their pain and suffering noticeable. Motoko watched his face writhe with agony as he clutched to the new wound in his leg, rivers of blood spilling between his fingers, but he was determined to mute his suffering. Lady Aori cleaned her blade off with a handkerchief she had been carrying with her.

The next lady, Lady Aimi, also had something against Mr. Kawahara, but Motoko lost track of it when she heard the sentence and another slight gash had been made across his chest this time. Luckily, Lady Aimi had been more merciful with her cuts than Lady Aori, and the blood barely trickled down far from the wound before his cotton kimono had soaked it up thirstily. The thing that distracted Motoko was the fact that not only was Lady Sakura up next for sentencing, but that she was the most likely the fourth person to cast judgment on him, meaning that death was more likely than ever now. If two more Ladies after Lady Sakura had decided he had wronged them somehow, it would certainly mean his life. Looking at the lineup of Ladies before her, she wasn’t sure what they had on their minds as far as their verdicts. Even Lady Megumi, the only woman who would come after Motoko, had been a total mystery of how they paid attention to the trial or their reactions to other judges.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

When it came to Lady Sakura’s turn, Mr. Kawahara’s face seemed to turn ghostly white. It may have been from the loss of blood, but Motoko couldn’t help but feel otherwise. She knew that Lady Sakura wasn’t going to pass a light sentence almost as much as he did, though she didn’t know the reasons. He seemed to be equally disturbed as he looked down the line of remaining ladies, as if whatever hope he had of making it out alive had died as Lady Sakura stood to make her way towards him. Lady Sakura’s eyes never left him, and though her face was straight and curt, Motoko could feel a sense of a grin hidden in her eyes.

“Mr. Kawahara,” she spoke his name, her voice purring with what sounded like sweet justice. “Not only Lady Aori judged you for peeping on her, for I hold the claim of you doing the same to not just me, but my daughters as well. And if that weren’t enough for me to gouge out your pitiful eyes, your shipments of candies that were delivered to one of my general stores were infested with bugs, which contaminated a good portion of my inventory on that premises. You have cost me money, comfort and reputation. Do you deny any of my claims?”

Again, Mr. Kawahara looked like he wanted to state something, but held his tongue. Unlike Lady Aori, Lady Sakura didn’t give him enough time to thoroughly think of his response. She had given him a measly few seconds to respond, and when nothing was immediately said, she unsheathed her dagger, and plunged it deep into his lower torso. When she ripped the blade out of his body, Motoko noticed that Lady Sakura had sliced her blade jaggedly, cutting into more meat and nerves as she removed the blade, blood soaking every inch of the blade and spilling beyond the hilt. Despite the wounds to his legs, this was the first time Mr. Kawahara didn’t have the strength to stand any longer. He dropped to his knees, all of his energy spent on keeping as silent as he could.

Two more Ladies had cast their resolutions positively, not harming Mr. Kawahara anymore, but even though they didn’t harm him, Mr. Kawahara seemed almost lifeless, his thanks and words empty of any emotion. They were as empty as his eyes were beginning to be. Two ladies before Motoko’s turn, Lady Sango had sentenced more pain for Mr. Kawahara: not finding anybody outside of the city who might be able to trade for fresh seafood goods as he had promised her months ago. Lady Sango still had three months of product waiting to be moved and about to go bad, and there hadn’t seemed to be anything Mr. Kawahara was doing about it. Lady Sango had made a vertical cut among his chest, making a cross shape cut with Lady Aori’s first cut to the chest.

The lady before Motoko had not found anything wrong with Mr. Kawahara, or if she had, she had decided it wasn’t worth bringing up. Mr. Kawahara’s breathing was raspy and heavy, one of his eyes closed from the pain he was suffering through. Motoko couldn’t tell if the others were aware of Mr. Kawahara’s condition, but from all the bodies Motoko had seen over the years of battling both men and daemons, she knew when a man’s life was nearing its end. Motoko felt eyes shift towards her as it was her turn for a sentence.

Motoko stood up slowly, and made her way over at the same type of pace. Her mother had left her no instruction on Mr. Kawahara, and there hadn’t been any mention of ill-will towards him either. Motoko was here as her mother’s stead, and she needed to act accordingly. Mr. Kawahara most likely wasn’t going to make it from this point on, whether Motoko and Lady Megumi caused more suffering or not. Motoko saw that Mr. Kawahara wasn’t even paying attention to who was coming towards him. His mind drifting somewhere else entirely now. Most likely the afterlife by now, Motoko thought sullenly. Her hand grip tightened around the blade, trying to steady her nerves. The little girl who received sweets from Mr. Kawahara that laid deep inside Motoko had felt pity for the man. The teenage girl who had felt defiled by his eyes felt nothing for him. Duty and Honor before all… Her mother’s voice preached. She knew what she had to do.

“Mr. Kawahara,” Motoko spoke and he barely lifted his head in her direction. “I, General Motoko Kawaguchi, daughter and assistant to Lady Nobu have come to judge you in this performance review.” She could feel the eyes of the other Ladies bore into her, searching for the conclusion Motoko had come to in her mind. Whether they wanted Mr. Kawahara dead, alive, or thought indifferently, Motoko knew they all had an interest in what she had to say. “While you have been a friendly neighbor to me and an influential person in our community and while my mother has left no instruction to pass negative judgment on you,” she took a deep breath, finding the strength to continue her words. “I, too, have grown weary of your perverted gazes not only to me and the ladies of this room, but of other ladies in our community, such as my younger sisters. And as the sixth person to pass judgment on you, I forfeit your life and sentence you to die.”

Mr. Kawahara didn’t seem to hear her, or perhaps he had already known his fate when Lady Sakura had made her voice and concerns known. Whether he had accepted his fate or was too far out of his mind with the blood loss, he made no reaction to her sentencing. Motoko took another deep breath. Within a flash, Motoko was already cleaning her blade and sheathing it once more. It wasn’t until she started walking away that the other Ladies saw a thin red line start to spread across his throat, and she was halfway toward her seat when the blood started to flow from the cut. Every passing second, the blood started to ooze more rapidly. Mr. Kawahara, with the empty eyes of a lifeless soul, gripped his throat, but the blood poured between his fingers and dripped onto the same colored parchment. Mr. Kawahara fell face first into the floor and gave a few short shutters before the whole room heard his last shaky breath leave his body. There was a stillness in the whole room, almost as if to respect the passing of the man that laid slain due to their verdicts.

When a moment had passed, and a pool of blood started to form around the entirety of Mr. Kawahara’s corpse, Lady Megumi nodded her head to two of her bodyguards before eyeing Mr. Kawahara’s fresh corpse. The two walked over and one of them had started to roll the parchment over the body, layering it and rolling it over itself while the other bodyguard fed more parchment from the large roll they brought in. When Mr. Kawahara’s body was wrapped up enough to no longer show any bloodstains, the two bodyguards picked up the body from each end while other body guards opened the sliding doors to let them pass.

“I want you to make sure you cremate his body, as is customary for our leaders, and give the ashes and remains to his family for them to spread.” Lady Megumi instructed her women in battle.

“Yes, My Lady.” the two who were carrying the body stated in unison.

“And be sure to let Lady Katsumi, Mr. Kawahara’s mother, she has been given clearance to move her and her daughters into the open house on the third branch of the Blessed Oak.”

“WHAT?!” Lady Sakura roared in disbelief. The outburst startled everyone in the room, and the two body guards bowed respectfully to do their bidding, almost as if to avoid whatever drama was about to ensue. “You can’t mean it, Lady Megumi. To have the family of such a… a...” Lady Sakura was looking for a word that was both insulting but not overboard, but Lady Megumi lifted her hand to politely interrupt.

“Mr. Kawahara may have been the things many of you have judged him for today. And he may have failed a couple of you and your businesses with how he decided to run things. But this was the first time we had to talk to him for his lack of leadership in four years. He was a short seven months of walking out of that office with his honor and life. I see no reason to make his family suffer for the petty things that had claimed his life.”

Lady Megumi’s voice was ice. While it wasn’t proper for a Lady to expose her emotions during a trial, there was no shame in discussing how people felt about the trial after the fact. Motoko could already tell Lady Megumi wasn’t happy with the decision for Mr. Kawahara’s life to have ended, and Motoko couldn’t help but feel a pit of shame in her stomach. She wanted to do whatever she could do to make her Lady happy, to assist her in the best way she could, and yet her mother’s words of “duty and honor first” had mesmerized her into slitting the throat of a man Lady Megumi wanted to see walk out of the room.

“My Lady, surely you didn’t want this pervert roaming around us for years longer?” Lady Sakura asked, spitting out the p-word like it was venom.

“I have nothing else to say on the matter. Anybody else who might have something to say about Mr. Kawahara, the trial, or any of my instructions for his family, then please speak now among the council, or save it for the gossip halls, for I don’t want to hear a word of this once we leave this room.”

The Ladies eyed one another, as if to double check to see if they had anything else to say. A few moments passed before Lady Megumi resumed. “If there is nobody who wishes to speak further on the matter, then I announce this meeting over. Please see that all proper arrangements be made for the Kawahara family,” Lady Megumi’s eyes seemed to glare and stare at Lady Sakura during these instructions, eyeing for any more outbursts. “And we will meet again in a couple weeks to plan the affairs of the festivals. We will save the search for a new mayor for after we have had time to unwind and celebrate. You Ladies have a good day.”

The room filled with muttering and scuffling as the Ladies all gathered their things and started to make their way through the door. Lady Sakura took her time, her face scowling and Motoko figured there were more than plenty of unpleasant thoughts lurking in her mind now. It wasn’t just Mr. Kawahara that she wanted to put down, but his entire family, or at least based on her reaction to the whole meeting. Motoko had no idea what the issue between her and the Kawahara family might have been, but had a feeling that the Kawahara family was more innocent than her in whatever dispute they were having.

“Uh, not you Motoko.” Lady Megumi said curtly as Motoko had stood and headed toward the door herself. It wasn’t only Motoko who froze, but almost half the room who hadn’t left yet as well. “I need to have a word with you. Alone.” Lady Megumi looked at the other girls as she said the last word, forcing the Ladies to leave the room in a hurried manner.

Motoko could feel her heart starting to beat heavier and heavier as the footsteps of the others receded and vanished. Was it because Motoko had taken Mr. Kawahara’s life even though Motoko’s mother had no instruction to do so? Motoko realized that it may have been insubordination for doing so, but Motoko also knew that her mother would understand if she had the time to explain herself. Motoko had her doubts that Lady Megumi would do the same. As the last of the Ladies walked out and closed the sliding door, there was an air of silence hanging about for a moment before Lady Megumi began to rise from her table and make way to the door herself.

“Walk with me.” she instructed, not looking in Motoko’s direction. The two stepped out of the room and into a hallway that led outside, furnished almost identically to how the conference room had looked.  As they made it to the front lobby area, Motoko and Lady Megumi politely nodded at the two receptionists that sat behind a floor-table, and the two guards who held spears and stood at each end of the entrance. The receptionists smiled and bowed in return, and the guards remained stationary other than a small salute, their eyes gazing forward the entire time.

The two left the building and walked down the large porch that surrounded the three-story-tall, bright red building with white trimming against onyx-colored tiles that shielded the roof. Motoko felt sunlight make its way through the sea of branches of the humongous trees that covered the land. Some of the tree trunks had been nearly a quarter-mile wide, the trees themselves standing almost a few thousand feet each. The branches were thick and strong enough to be renovated and constructed to make houses, mansions and neighborhoods, originally to stay away from the Daemon infested grounds of Miizu.

Strings of zip-lines crossed in different directions, taking different routes for those who wanted to descend from a higher level to the lower ones. The residents of the town usually carried an easily crafted metal cup-looking device meant for clasping onto the zip-lines, easy enough for children attending school to be expected to use the zip-lines without help or guidance. It may have been a hundred feet or more of a descent from tree branches to tree branches, but in the land of Miizu, fear was a weakness that needed to be overcome. And those who plunged and fell to their deaths were considered, “Being weeded out by the gods for their weakness.” There were man-operated elevators constructed efficiently and large enough to hold a couple of fully loaded wagons and their horses inside to take people and their loads from the lower levels to the higher ones.

While over the last few hundred years, they have managed to slay Daemons at a good enough pace to not be fearful of living and building homes and shops on the ground, it was always the ones with authority, money or power that would live among the tree branches. The leaves that grew on the branches were massive and grew plentiful, making a large percent of Miizu to be a well-shaded, cooler atmosphere. It was said that the demigoddess Yukina was one who loved to garden, and planted all of the forests, jungles, and grassy planes that were spread over the planet, but it was the nation of Miizu she had loved most. The large trees that were specific to their nation was a testament of that. It was because of that very story that most houses in Miizu had a garden, well cared for by all the individuals in the house.

Motoko and Lady Megumi strolled along one of the main dirt roads that stemmed away from City Hall. Children and other residents would call out greetings to Lady Megumi, and she would wave and politely nod to show that she acknowledged them, but her lack of words would inform people she was too busy to talk about anything but the most serious of business. Motoko could hear the hammering of a half a dozen different blacksmiths that set up shop in the same end-street, most of them related and competing to be the best in their family name. She heard voices of those calling out for prices of fresh fruits and vegetables that weren’t common in the Ryoko Village area. People rode along the dirt path in wagons that were drawn by horseback, or rode the horses themselves if they weren’t the leisurely type. While it wasn’t a metropolis, Ryoko Village definitely had its sense of hustle and bustle.

But in the few minutes the two women walked together in silence, Motoko noticed they were walking towards areas that seemed to be less populated. Motoko knew better than to speak first, especially to the leading Lady of the city, but she was curious as to where she was taking her. If Lady Megumi was genuinely offended by the fact that Motoko had taken Mr. Kawahara’s life, all she had to do was ask Motoko to end her life in the conference hall and be done with it. She didn’t need to drag her out in the middle of remote parts of town to do so. Whatever it was that Lady Megumi wanted to speak about, Motoko tried to seem as stoic as her mother had as she had done her best to calm her nerves. She had killed dozens of Daemons and several times as many humans in battle, yet disappointing her mother or Lady was a bigger fear than any loss of blood, limb or life.

“So, do you mind telling me what that was about?” Lady Megumi asked when they turned down a street that Motoko had no memories of visiting in her lifetime. Lady Megumi strolled in front as they walked, but she didn’t look back at Motoko when she talked.

“May I inquire what my Lady means?” Motoko asked carefully.

“About Mr. Kawahara.” was all Lady Megumi stated.

“C... could you clarify more, my Lady? I’m not exactly sure what you’re-”

“Come now, Motoko.” Lady Megumi’s voice grew a shade darker, clearly getting irritated that Motoko wasn’t immediately coming to the same conclusion as her. “Your mother and I have been best friends for the last fifteen years. I know what she has planned, and I know how she feels about everybody in this city, especially those in power. So, I know she didn’t have any desire to have Mr. Kawahara killed, and I doubt she had asked you to make that decision yourself. Or am I mistaken?”

“No, My Lady.” Motoko could feel her heart skip a beat. It took everything in Motoko to not hang her head down in shame.  “What you say is true.”

“So, I’m going to ask you again. Why did you feel it was acceptable for you to take Mr. Kawahara’s life?”

Motoko still took a moment to find her words. She didn’t want to lie to her lady, couldn’t in fact... and she didn’t want to mince her words, but she herself didn’t fully understand what propelled her to end his life that would make any sense. And as seconds ticked by, she knew she only had so long to answer before Lady Megumi might assume she was lying or hiding something. She simply said the first thing that felt true and simple of the fact.

“He was suffering.” she spoke softly, the words making her feel even weaker than when they were simply afterthoughts of her actions. “Duty and Honor” was supposed to be the theme of their culture, and Motoko usually strove to excel in whatever fields of that theme presented themselves in life. To end a life for pity’s sake was giving into your emotions, and acting on emotions was the antithesis of honor. Shame flooded inside her, and it was all she could do to not look at Lady Megumi, fearful of her disapproving gaze.

“Yes, most people suffer when they’ve had holes put through them.” Lady Megumi’s voice didn’t grow any harsher, but it was none friendlier either. The matter-of-fact tone in her voice told Motoko to try and further herself. Motoko finally took a deep breath and looked Lady Megumi in the eyes. If she was going to be judged and scolded or punished for her actions, she might as well own up to them fully and stand tall.

“I had known Mr. Kawahara for a long time, and for the most part, he was usually nice to me. He gave me candy when I was a young. And while there were a couple of ladies in there who seemed to have valid complaints, too many of them were too trivial for the punishment he deserved. Had I not killed him, it would have been up to you to kill him. And if you chose not to strike him down, he was going to bleed out before the hour was over anyways. So, I did what I thought was best for all parties involved. Lady Sakura and her mewling followers would have the death it seemed they sought after, your hands were kept clean from unnecessary blood, and me and my house appeared efficient for the call of duty." She was proud of her statement, other than the acid in her voice when she mentioned Lady Sakura. Some might overhear that type of gossip and if it fell on the wrong ears, it could start a journey that ended the same way Mr. Kawahara did. All too many men, women and Ladies alike were victims of gossip, and Motoko had always done her best to avoid being a part of it either way.

Lady Megumi eyed Motoko up and down for a moment, reading her for honesty. When she seemed to come to a conclusion, she stayed motionless for a moment before a small smile appeared on her face, followed by a very slow clap.

“Bravo, bravo...” Lady Megumi stated with a growing smirk. “You really are turning into a proper Lady, now aren’t you?” Lady Megumi’s tone had relaxed, and the tension in the air seemed to disappear immediately as Lady Megumi threw an arm over Motoko’s shoulders in a friendly, casual manner. “See, I told your mom you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. She thinks you’re too battle-focused and don’t know how to appeal to people of the court and council. I keep trying to tell her that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but you know how mothers can be. She must still see you as her baby, in some ways.”

The sudden change in behavior had thrown Motoko off, and her face twisted in confusion had been more than apparent to Lady Megumi.

“Wait, so… you’re not upset?” Motoko asked, double checking.

“Upset? You said it yourself, you kept my hands clean from having to choose whether or not to end Soichiro’s life.”

“Soichiro?” Motoko was taken aback again. “You and Mr. Kawahara were on a first name basis?” In Miizu, it was usually customary to call a man by his last name, and same with a young lady who didn’t have any power or money in her family name. Ladies who were on the rise to power, or were going to inherit their power or wealth through their mother, were called by their first name with the title of “Young” beforehand. A lady who was influential in her community by any means was referred to as a Lady, and they used their first names to show their individuality among powerful houses that may hold several daughters. The only time a man was called by his first name was extreme friendliness (or even romantically), or if you were trying to insult him publicly.

“Well, we did have a personal meeting a few months ago, and we had drunk plenty during our course of business, and, well… you know, one thing leads to another...” Lady Megumi had a lecherous grin on her face that said all too much.

“You added Mr. Kawahara to your walking marriage list?” Motoko couldn’t believe it even as the words were coming out of her lips. Lady Megumi simply replied with a shrug and a laugh.

The Walking Marriage was a cultural system that was commonplace in Miizu. In the homes of the Miizunese, there were no husbands and wives. A woman could choose any man and any number of men to sleep with, and there were no obligations that the relationship had to continue whatsoever. It could be casual, it could be passionate and held a lifetime; it all depended on the woman herself. If a woman were to get pregnant, it would be the woman’s family who raised the child. Her sisters and mother would guide and teach all the necessary ways of being a strong, militant, and precision-hungry Miizunese. The brothers and uncles were the father-figures who had passed any masculine knowledge to the boys born in the house. The idea of a monogamous, committed relationship was seen as something almost other-worldly.

“He was a kind man,” Lady Megumi sighed. Motoko could hear good memories of him in her tone as she spoke. “Gentle, and he genuinely cared about others. I know he got a little too interested in some of the ladies and their bodies, but men out there in other nations are almost always worse than him.”

“So, I hear...” Motoko nodded, but asked what was really on her mind about Mr. Kawahara. “If you didn’t hate Mr. Kawahara, why are you glad that I took his life?”

“Well, Motoko,” her tone had changed, much sadder and her eyebrows furrowed in a hint of internal conflict. “I’m sure you’re aware that Lady Sakura had been the one to call for the performance review. Meaning that she was the one who had wanted to have Soichiro- I mean, Mr. Kawahara- killed or at least harmed.”

“But for what reason?” Motoko inquired. Lady Megumi was about to answer, but checked her surrounding before she did, making sure there were no ears to pick up on whatever it was she had to say.

“I’ve been hearing rumors...” she paused and looked around some more. “I’ve been hearing for years that Lady Sakura had been wanting to be the leading Lady of Ryoko Village well before I was offered the position. It was something she wanted on her resume of life before she was forced into retirement. And seeing as she’s going to retire early next year for her 45h birthday, whether she likes it or not, I think she’s growing restless in forcing her way into my position. And I think she’s starting to get a following of younger, more naive girls, buying them over with treats and favors. And you know the only way to remove a new Leading Lady from her position of power?”

“The same type of performance review that Mr. Kawahara had received by the rest of the council.” Motoko answered almost automatically. It was information every person in Miizu knew since grade school, along with basic histories.

“Right. And if Lady Sakura is staging a coup, did you see how the numbers turned out for Mr. Kawahara? There were five Ladies who had cast a negative vote for Mr. Kawahara, yours the sixth, but you had no malice intent towards him nor me. You simply were doing your duty. But I can’t be sure of any of the other Ladies who had been a part of our discussion today, not even the ones who didn’t harm Mr. Kawahara.”

“This still doesn’t explain why you’re happy I’m the person who killed Mr. Kawahara and not you.” Motoko stated after processing the information coming to her now.

“Don’t you see? Mr. Kawahara’s performance review was not only a blemish on the name of a family who supports me, but a trap to question my honor as a leader. Would I have killed Mr. Kawahara myself? Would I think of a crime to punish him for on the fly when I don’t have one prepared in reality, just as you did? And if so, it would only take one Lady to know if I were making up reasons for punishments, allowing her to tell the other Ladies that I make judgments with no real proof, making me a leader of bias and weak thought process. If I killed him to make a message to other ladies, then I come off a brute. If I leave him alive, I may be considered either too weak to stomach killing off somebody who supports me but needs judgments. Or the polar opposite if I kill him, they could think of me too cruel to end the life of a man whose damnation wasn’t set in stone yet. You see, I only had two options, and yet there were so many different opinions that could have come from those actions that would have negatively impacted me. But you decided to end his life before I had to come up with a solution for this. And for that, I thank you.”

Motoko had no idea the council was secretively so divided, that they didn’t all have the same common goal as to be honorable and push their society ahead in whatever means necessary. It was the Miizunese way, and yet it seemed that besides Daemons and the occasional war threat from the Xho or Ji-Woo areas, they had even more threats than she could have thought.

“Lady Sakura is cold and calculative,” Lady Megumi continued glumly, though Motoko wasn’t sure if it was because of the possibility of betrayal from Lady Sakura, or because Lady Megumi was facing a force she couldn’t fight alone as well as not knowing who she could trust. “She’ll never come straight for me, not in the ways of the council, and definitely not in the ways of dueling me for my position.” the thought put a sad smile on her face. It was true; Lady Megumi was highly considered for her spot as Leading Lady due to her combative abilities and also for her leadership through chaos, both things the soft-handed Lady Sakura lacked.

“If not through the council or a duel, how will she-” Motoko started.

“Influence.” was the only word Lady Megumi needed to say for Motoko to get it, but she pressed on explaining anyway. “All she has to do is watch and wait for me to do something somebody in our community doesn’t like, and the seeds of doubt and distrust of my service will begin to grow. I don’t think every lady who harmed Mr. Kawahara today was under Lady Sakura’s influence. Hell, I know Lady Naru and her missing paints were something she complained almost daily about for a month straight; her attack checks out, to me. But I know for a fact that Lady Yumi didn’t request harm to be done to him, and Young Shizuru wouldn’t have harmed him for peeping unless there was something bigger in store for her if she had.”

“Well, what are you going to do?” Motoko asked, not seeing a viable option to end the situation without somebody losing either their head or their respect. Most people would have chosen to lose their head if it were between the two.

“That’s just it,” Lady Megumi sighed and looked Motoko in the eyes. “I have no idea. I can’t plan to retaliate, because I need resources and information, but I don’t know who I can trust besides you and your mother. She’s been my best friend for nearly all of your life, and I’ve watched you grow up, you and your sisters. I know how much your mom has drilled ‘duty and honor’ into that skull of yours, so I know you two are on my side. But...” she sighed again, deeper this time, breaking eyesight from Motoko as she watched the massive leaves wave in the wind high above them. “There’s only two of you. Your two sisters are too young to know how to withhold information from less-than-deserving ears, and I don’t know about anybody else in this village. Soichiro and his family were the only other ones who had been kind to me without looking for anything in return as long as I’ve been rising in my public power, but now they’ve taken a loss. How many lives will end or be ruined in order to obtain my title?”

“You could always challenge Lady Sakura into a duel or judgment for conspiracy.” Motoko offered a possible solution, but she hadn’t fully looked at the big picture to see if there were any holes with her ideas.

“On what grounds? With what proof? I have nothing solid, and if I go up to the rest of the council without hard evidence and supporters to back me up, then the rest of the city is going to think that I’m just out here accusing people at random, like all bad tyrants have started.”

“Well, perhaps you could-” a crash was heard at the end of the alleyway the two were walking down before Motoko could finish, startling the both of them. When they looked to see what made the noise, it was just a young black cat knocking over a small pile of trash on the side of a building. Motoko could sense that they both were wary of potential eavesdroppers.

“Look, Motoko, we can talk about things later, but I really had to thank you again for all that you did today. I don’t know how many friends support me right now, but I can count on you, right?”

“Of course, my Lady.” Motoko said, almost taken aback that she had to ask.

“You’ll have my back, no matter what kind of chaos Lady Sakura or any other Lady might try to conjure against me, so long as I am your Leading Lady?”

“I swear it on my family’s honor, my Lady.” Motoko took to the ground with a kneeling bow. She could feel Lady Megumi’s hands on her shoulders to bring her up, making direct eye contact with her as she did.

“Good, because we’re both going to need each other, now more than ever. I don’t know what I would do without you or your mom. But we’re going to set things straight.” she gave a solid pat on her shoulder for good measure. “You’re one of the only people I can count on.” was the last thing she said before turning down one of the ends of the alleyway they were in.

Motoko watched as Lady Megumi made her way around the corner before walking in the opposite direction. She was sure Lady Megumi wouldn’t want her walking out in the same direction in case there were spies lurking about. She couldn’t believe that the entire council was starting to grow so corrupt and shady. In all of her years in service of the military or the council, she had never heard of anything so sinister happen between such Ladies of power. Perhaps you’re too young, blind, and naive to see otherwise, she pondered, but quickly dismissed the thought. She wanted to believe that the council had been as structured and disciplined as she had always seen. But Lady Megumi didn’t seem too shocked by Lady Sakura’s alleged conspiracy against her, which made Motoko feel that this wasn’t her first time dealing with these types of situations, whether it was aimed at her or not.

Motoko was about to turn the corner when she heard another crashing sound at the end of the alleyway behind her. She turned to see the same black cat digging through trash and knocking over bottles. Even though she had slain several Daemons in her day, she was still jumpy at the sounds of a cat due to the new suspicions of the people around her. The thought gave her mixed feelings of irony and mild shame. She was tougher than this. She was-

In an instant, Motoko had drawn a dagger that was well-hidden and strapped to her left leg underneath her kimono, and brought it to her face, deflecting a quick and heavy blow as she heard the two blades sing their steely song. Her attacker, much quicker than she anticipated, loomed behind her before she could catch a glimpse, but she swung her dagger in where she felt the presence. She felt her blade connect and penetrate something solid, but it was a hunk of garbage from the alleyway. Before she could pull her blade from the trash, she felt the icy cold tip of a blade at her throat, her body nowhere near a position to retaliate. The trash was simply a distraction, and she fell for it. She couldn’t get the best look at her assailant, but from what she could tell, they wore a very basic gray kimono and some type of bandage wrapping to cover their face, and a big straw hat to take the eyes off the face mask. They had long black hair that flowed in the wind like silk, but any other features were hidden away.

“You’re a lot quicker than my peers had informed me.” she heard her attacker speak, the voice of a fellow woman, but none that was familiar.

“You’re lucky you caught me off guard, otherwise you would truly see the speed I hold.” Motoko said icily. Despite whatever situation she was about to get herself into, she refused to show an ounce of fear.

“I don’t doubt that whatsoever… and yet, here we are.” the masked woman shifted her blade to press as much against Motoko’s skin without cutting the flesh.

“Here we are...” Motoko repeated coolly, looking for some type of advantage she could muster. Her weapon was still lodged into trash, which would slow her down and make her swing clumsily if she were to attack. She couldn’t press into the woman behind without potentially having her throat slit. The situation was total in this masked woman’s hands, and a part of Motoko was ready to accept her lethal fate.

“Do you know why I’m here?” the woman asked, her voice already sounding like she knew the answer.

“I’m assuming this has something to do with Lady Sakura?” Motoko stated, the anger in her voice building towards Lady Sakura. She had never been friends with the woman, and she had come off as stern and oftentimes condescending, but until this meeting she had no ill feelings towards her. But having sent an assassin only moments after a council meeting was crossing more than enough lines for Motoko to hate.

“Who?” The woman asked, sounding confused. Motoko furrowed her eyebrows in confusion herself.

“Lady Sakura…?” Motoko repeated. “The Lady who runs-”

“Look, I’m not from around here, so I have no idea who the hell you’re talking about.” the woman stated, and at long last removed the blade from her throat. She took a step back and sheathed her own blade when she could trust that Motoko wasn’t going to turn around and start swinging again. Motoko almost assumed the woman was lying, but there was something in her voice that sounded sincere.

“If you’re not from around here,” Motoko said as she rubbed her neck, checking for any small cuts or blood. “Then why are you attacking me, and what are you doing here?”

“The attack was simply my curiosity in the rumors I’ve heard about your skill. I know I took you by total surprise, but your reactions were more than the words I’ve heard. You’re quite skilled.” the woman gave a small chuckle, but Motoko couldn’t help but feel a sense of confidence that the woman thought she could take Motoko down in a duel if necessary. The feeling stung, but Motoko couldn’t argue that it may have been true; she did have Motoko completely helpless while being held at knife-point. “As for what I’m doing here, I’m here to deliver you.”

“Deliver me?” Motoko repeated, not at all understanding.

“Oh, boy,” the masked woman sighed hastily. “I know they’re supposed to keep you Ceremony people from knowing when you’re supposed to come for the ceremony, but I didn’t think they would keep you in the dark about what the ceremony actually was.”

“You mean the Ceremony of the Moon?” Motoko asked, puzzled.

“Do you know of any other ceremony?” the woman’s voice was drizzled in sarcasm.

“So… I’m being escorted by you? As one of the people arranged to get married?” Motoko couldn’t picture herself leaving her home village, let alone her nation, especially not so suddenly. A creeping fear of being thrown into a total world of unknowing started to grow in the pit of her stomach.

“You know, the people of Miizu are really quick with their swords… not so much with their minds.”

“But… but I can’t just up and leave, I have duties here to-”

“Okay, look, I get that you people-” the phrase you people annoyed Motoko greatly coming from a foreigner. “are very big on honor and duty and doing what’s best expected of you from your leaders, right? Well, answer me this: what bigger honor is there than possibly reuniting the world and destroying all the Daemons once and for all?”

“Yes, but-”

“You know, for somebody who claims to be all about doing her duty at the drop of a hat, no questions asked, you sure do talk back a lot.” the woman’s voice, as irritated as it sounded, wasn’t malicious at all. “I’m just doing my job and trying to get you to come and get married at this ceremony so I can make my money and go home. It’s a month-long journey on foot, and I’d like to get going as soon as we can.”

“Yeah, but… why me? Why not somebody more important?”

“I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t really care.” the boredom in the woman’s voice was starting to get replaced with annoyance.

“And what if I refuse?”

“How should I know? Central Government sent my agency a job listing, and here I am doing that job, no questions asked. Just like how you should be behaving. But since it’s Central Government we’re talking about, they’re probably just going to send a team of mercenaries to burn down your village and kill your family so you have no reason to refuse. Or they might just kill you too. Either way, I’m pretty sure your village will be turned into a giant bonfire for the Daemons that roam around these forests.”

Motoko was silent for a moment, thinking over all the information that was suddenly thrown at her. She could feel the woman shift her body directly from her annoyance of being in the same spot for too long. Her entire body language said that she didn’t want to spend another second being in a foreign land, but Motoko didn’t want her racing off to tell her authorities that Motoko wasn’t complying. And the woman did have a point: what was more honorable than saving the world. Duty and Honor, her mother’s voice rang in her head again. It didn’t matter how Motoko felt about the situation. She was summoned, which meant by her own moral code, she was obligated to go.

“Can I at least bring a travel bag?” Motoko had more questions, but she was getting the sneaking suspicion that more questions would be of hindrance rather than help.

“You have thirty minutes to gather whatever useless trinkets you want to bring with you and meet me on the Southern Gate of the city. Tell anybody you see that you got a trail on a small Daemon and you need to check it out or whatever, just make sure nobody knows where you’re going and that nobody follows you… and don’t act suspicious.”

Motoko nodded before turning the corner and hurrying down the street as quickly as she could without seeming like she was in a rush. Last thing she needed was somebody who might want to talk or ask why she was moving so hastily. Attention was the last thing she needed as she tried to think of what she might need in order to survive a month-long trip.

“Your Marriage is the biggest Honor and Duty you’ll ever have in your entire life.” a voice called out to her, almost as if it were shouting from a great distance, but heard as if it were right in her ear. She whipped her head around to see if there had been someone sneaky enough to erase their presence and get close to her, but nobody was around her at all. The voice sounded like a young man, but of no one she knew. Was she just imagining things or was she going crazy? It didn’t matter either way. She had a long journey to prepare for, with very little time to do it.

A very long journey, indeed.

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