TITLE: Harvest.
AUTHOR: beyondthemoor
RATING: Very light T
GENRE: Gen/Romance-ish?
WARNINGS: Lack of practice. ;)
AU/CANON: Canon-ish, no set spot in timeline
PAIRINGS: Shuurei x Seiran
WORD COUNT: 1,700 words (approx)
SUMMARY: Follow-up to "Changing Leaves". You reap what you sow when you cross a homesick Shi Seiran.
NOTES: Again, it's been a while since I wrote for SaiMono – any and all concrit is appreciated!
"Harvest"
The mould sat on the table beside the eggs, flour, water and other ingredients, but Shuurei couldn't bring herself to mix the annual moon cake she usually baked for her father, Seiran and herself. It wouldn't be the first time going without the traditional treat, but there was no famine preventing her from collecting the ingredients this fall.
No, it was rather the scarcity of family members that thwarted her.
Her father had been called—not invited, but ordered—to visit her uncle Kurou to discuss some family matter or other, and would not be back for a few days. She had no idea what was so important it couldn't wait until after the Mid Autumn Festival, nor why she had not been invited, but it had been made very clear she was to stay home, or at least away from the clan meeting. This during a national holiday which celebrated family. It was exasperating, the dismissal insulting, but she was used to her family's odd behaviour.
So here she was, during one of the most important family gatheringtimes of the year, alone in front of her cold stove since she hadn't even bothered to light it. Because what was the point of eating moon cakes by herself? It would just depress her.
With a shake of her head, the young woman clapped the flour off her hands, put away the ingredients, and set aside the cake mould for another time. They could celebrate the festival once everyone had returned!
That was it. No sense spending money on a feast with no one to eat it but herself and the kitchen spirits!
Heaving a sigh, Shuurei bent down to pick up the bucket of boiled down rice glue she'd cooked and the stack of old scrap paper and rags. If she was skipping the moon cake, she should get a move on patching up the drafts! Yes, she had to winterize the homestead before the first frost.
Her home was her castle and she took care of all who lived there.
Or, who would return there.
Hopefully Seiran would be home soon from his tour, too.
With a huff of determination, Shuurei set out to—literally—patch up the residence's holes.
"—Sending home groceries to your wifey, eh, Seiran?" teased one of the soldiers, nudging the tall, pale-haired man's shoulder-protecting armour. Or trying to; Seiran was nearly a full head taller than the speaker, so the gesture fell just as short as his comment. "Are you in the dog house with the little woman? Oh wait, she hasn't married you, has she? What's holding her back?"
"Oy! Careful of 'that'," another officer, more familiar with Seiran's protectiveness towards his family, cautioned the first soldier with an elbow to his gut. It didn't do much damage, due to their heavy armour, but it did get the man's attention. "Didn't you know the generals actually had a bidding war over who could recruit him into their corps?" he grit between his teeth. He had witnessed Seiran in battle before, and had no intention of getting between him and his quarry should the quarry feel like promoting its idiocy.
'That' man in question, Shi Seiran, ignored the other soldiers—though he would remember the slant the first cast him—as he finished paying the carpentry merchant and giving him directions to Shuurei and Shouka's home. That delivery would be composed of nails for repairs, red paint to re-do the doorways for the Lunar New Year coming in a few months, jars of wax and polish for the floors and furniture, and a few dozen planks of wood, so he could restore some of the sagging beams he'd noticed in the grain and pantry storages.
It was his custom to handle his errands while he travelled on duty. He made the arrangements during his 'free' time while they passed through townships, and many of the merchants were so eager to ply their wares they often gave the soldiers competitive discounts to get their business. The carpenter had offered to cut the delivery charge in half for Seiran this time. That made the higher-quality product much better value than what they usually purchased within the walls of the capitol.
The tour itself had gone well so far, though there were still a few more townships to visit before they returned home to their families in Kiyou. It hadn't passed his notice that the red lanterns, throngs of people in the marketplace, and of course, the trays and trays of moon cakes were all on display to celebrate the Mid Autumn Festival at every village they inspected.
The festival was in part why they were sent from the capitol, to scout for bandits who preyed on the travelers during their pilgrimage. Even the brothels were doing a fine business as the visitors came in to town, he noticed in his peripheral vision.
Inappropriately, the image of the upcoming massage-and-more parlour led his attention to Shuurei, wondering how she and her father were celebrating.
No, Shouka-dono was called away to the main house… he remembered, and jolted to a stop in his tracks. He tried to justify the sudden halt by perusing a grocer's shelf-fulls of cooking oils and sauces, his mind still focusing on his Ojou-sama. His rambling thoughts pulled up short as Shuurei's image surfaced in his mind's eye—smiling at him, assuring him he didn't need to get them anything while he was away, that she only wanted him to make sure he came home safely…
Unfortunately, the group of men who'd tagged along behind him on his shopping excursion had not taken the hint—his ignoring them—to leave him in peace.
As the Kou family's retainer calmly pointed out to the grocer the spices, sesame oil, and dried mushrooms he wanted, he heard the men draw near him again.
This time, the nudge was a more deliberate shove and Seiran fought the innate urge to draw his sword at the insolent action. He would never understand why some of the men felt the need to prove something amongst each other in this type of mission. Perhaps they were too complacent and growing bored with how little conflict they'd faced yet.
But that would more than likely be resolved before the end of the tour.
Seiran smiled politely at the grocer, thanked him for his help, and continued on to the wholesale fabrics district he'd heard about from some of the women who were providing lodgings to the soldiers. On his way he passed by one of the rowdier brothels in the red light district, and a thought occurred to him.
He hid a smile as he made his way over.
Yes, the soldiers definitely needed to be distracted for a while…
"Did he really go in there?" whispered the ringleader of the antagonistic followers, aghast.
"You should not push Shi Seiran, I'm telling you," pleaded the officer who'd all but given up protecting the privacy of one of the top soldiers in their group.
Regardless, the men watched in fearful anticipation as their stoic colleague approached the establishment, met warmly at the door by the host girls who ushered him through its red doors enthusiastically.
Even from their hiding spot across the street and behind a cart, the soldiers could hear the women gushing over how handsome Seiran looked, and what was he in the mood for, and could they serve him anything while he waited?
"Sir," croaked one of the younger soldiers to his commander, "did… did Seiran-san really just…"
His eyes as wide as saucers, the superior nodded, noting Seiran's ample smile at the beautiful young women—amply endowed—at his side as he disappeared through the privacy curtain into the building.
"But… but I thought…"
"Shhhh!"
"But he's the personal guard of the Kou's! He's practically married to their heiress! He's got connections within the palace! He's renowned for his gentlemanly behaviour!"
"Men: hurry, we need to hurry back to camp," the men gaped at their superior. "We can't be acknowledged as witnesses!" hissed the man as he finally regained his composure. "If this gets out, he'll know it was us!"
The men shivered at the realization they may come under scrutiny—and potential vengeance—of Evil Seiran.
They peeked out once more, made sure their target was nowhere in the vicinity, and started to hedge in a nonchalant fashion back towards their make-shift base at their inn.
…Except the one soldier who'd made it his life mission to harass their subject. He glanced back at the brothel again in speculation.
Shi Seiran shouldn't be the only one to have fun, he decided, and boldly followed where only one had gone before.
That night, a letter of open invitation was sent to the soldiers' camp encouraging all who were available to come join their two brothers-in-arms in some 'evening entertainment'.
… In fact, it was Shi Seiran who delivered the letter.
Apparently the event was being hosted by his leech.
Not that Seiran had bothered to inform him of that fact.
It was a bright, if cold, day when the troops returned to Kiyou's gates; some families met their husbands just within the boundaries, cheering and accompanying them the rest of the way to the garrison where they'd be dismissed after a quick debrief.
Shuurei was not among the welcoming crowds, but she would hear later that day, while she played her erhu at a local tavern, of how one soldier's wife had loudly and publicly scolded her husband in front of the majority of the city for hosting a brothel party for his colleagues and sending the bill home to her to pay. ("The nerve!")
When his Ojou-sama questioned Seiran later that evening if he'd heard anything about it, Seiran smiled warmly back at her and insisted it was probably nothing the man hadn't reaped of his own actions.
Posted 19 January, 2010. END.