It was the golden hour.
It was the time of heaven and bliss, when the very earth was illuminated with ethereal light. It was a time for playful frenzy when children would rush outside their homes, playing within the streets as they savored the last few hours of the day. It was a time for passion when lovers, both old and new, smiled with painful happiness and flushed cheeks. Burning crimson bloomed upon their faces with eyes darkening for the night to come.
And for the rest, who were neither young or in love, it was a time for rest. It was a time when the old reclined against their chairs, watching in contentment as the skies were set afire with the sun's final greeting. It was simply a tradition, and no one, absolutely no one, wanted to work during the golden hour. And the head of state was certainly of no exception. The Daimyo, reclining against plush cushioned chairs, was almost across the threshold of sleep as his wife, Madame Shijimi, animatedly spoke of the events of the day. Neither of them noticed the attendant standing at the entrance.
Mr. Touma was shaking as he waited to be acknowledged by the royal couple. It was a known fact and unspoken rule that the Daimyo was to be left undisturbed during this particular hour of the day. His wife had made this explicitly clear to new servants entering the palace. But this was a matter that needed urgent attending, and though he was shaking in his boots, he knew he needed to cross that lawn, acknowledged or otherwise.
When he stepped into the golden light, nothing seemed to break the domestic scene before him. The only one that noticed his presence was the cat nestled within the royal consort's arms. It was in that moment, as he traversed the freshly cut lawn, that he questioned his decision to enter royal service. He was a man well into his middle years, and he had served for most of his life. Yet he will never be used to being in the presence of the most important family in the country. To top it all off, he was known to be a perpetually nervous man whose main goal in life was to remain peacefully unseen, yet the minute he had step foot within the palace, at his ambitious family's behest, those goals had turned into dust. Somehow, as a cruel trick of fate, he had gained favor with the nation's head, and his previous duties have been disregarded altogether in favor of becoming the Daimyo's private secretary. A position the he constantly doubts that he can fulfill, regardless of how he felt about his position, he still found himself sitting upon his desk, organizing correspondence after correspondence.
Mr. Touma would have gladly let his Master enjoy the hour undisturbed, might have even taken up the time to indulge in the golden hour himself. The day would have gone by in that fashion had a desperate looking valet not burst into his office with grave eyes and a tiny scroll that carried heavy words. He could still feel his stomach drop when he unfurled the dirty looking parchment.
He could still feel it now as he smoothed down his salt and pepper hair, adjusted his half-moon spectacles, and flexed his hands twice before clearing his throat to announce his presence. With shaking steps, he finally reached them at a respectable distance, but neither were inclined to acknowledge his presence.
"Sir?" He timidly asked.
Not once did the Daimyo stir from his half lidded trance. A soft groan escaped from his lips and his chest slowly moved up and down. It was then and there Touma realized that his master was sleeping, and his wife, Madame Shijimi, was oblivious to that fact. Touma grunted and cleared his throat. The grey cat looked up from its disgruntled stare at him again, fixing him with a peculiar look of pleading. So fixated by the cat's strange behavior, he had failed to notice the expectant glare of the lady seated at his master's side.
"Well? Is something wrong?" said Madame Shijimi, clearly bugged at the servant's intrusion.
The secretary snapped out of his stupor, and quickly bowed. The sheer force of his movement sent his glasses jostling to the ground. But he didn't dare to reach out to fetch them. Not until forgiveness was received.
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness." He babbled.
"It is given, Mr. Touma." She watched the man with pursed lips as he rose to his full height. Though miffed at the interruption, she knew her husband had a soft spot for his bumbling secretary, despite not knowing as to why that was. For all the years she had been married into the family, Touma was always there at her husband's side, trembling like a small dog, trailing after him with barely concealed desperation. He appeared much the same as he fetched his glasses from the grass and perched it upon the bridge of his nose once more.
"Now tell me, what news could you possibly bring us that could interrupt my husband's much needed rest?"
His eyes drooped, a deep frown overcoming his small face. "Forgive me madam, but the ministers require His Highness' presence at the council room. The nobles must be notified of an important matter of state. You must wake him, ma'am. I'm afraid the issue at hand is most urgent."
For a terrible second, servant and mistress eyed one another with the latter unconvinced as she met his pleading gaze. Then it passed. With a soft sigh of reluctance, she reached out and gently shook her husband's shoulder. Her action was met with an irritated grunt, and with sleepy stubbornness the man continued his nap.
"Teruo, my love, you must wake up."
He turned away from her touch and laid on his side. "It is the golden hour, my darling, surely your charity stories can wait until such a blissful time is over."
The small man raked his fingers through his greying hair and prayed to the gods for guidance and cleared his throat.
"I'm afraid it cannot wait, sir. The people need their Daimyo."
He opened one eye, his mouth stretching back to form a tight frown. Of all the times that he had to be disturbed, it had to be during the one break that even he, the Daimyo, was obliged to enjoy.
"What happened now, Mr. Touma?" He said with a gravelly voice.
The small man stilled his shaking hands, and with a trembling voice he spoke.
"It's Konoha, sir."
An exasperated sigh streamed through Teruo's nose as he sat up to stretch his tired muscles. He was no longer the young man he once was. How could he feel so tired, despite doing nothing physically strenuous today?
"The Hidden Village, again? What is it now? Is it time to attend one of those dreadful Chunin Exams again? Must I venture to those ridiculously high seats to watch two colored specks fight each other to the death?" He fixed the servant with an easy grin as he moved his head back and forth, easing away the stiffness that had settled within his neck. Untroubled by the usual uneasiness of his secretary, he rose from his chair, aiming for the table ladened with refreshments. Mr. Touma, robbed of any of the courage he mustered up before, simply stood there with the weight of his message stubbornly resting behind his teeth.
"Well it must certainly be urgent if they need my input. We all know how proud those shinobi are to have autonomy. Why, if it weren't for those exams, I suppose the village would forget they had a daimyo altogether," Teruo blithely added.
Lemons bobbed up and down as he poured the beverage into two new intricately carved glasses. Taking in the shaking form of the man before him, the Daimyo felt a twinge of something foreboding, but he quickly dismissed it. Agitated, after all, was Touma in his normal state, and so the grin remained plastered to his face. He gulped down his tea, savoring the distinct taste of lemons and berries dancing on his tongue, before fixing the small man before him with an exasperated glare. "The gods forbid! Is yet another Hokage fallen during my reign? I swear, I may be the most unlucky Daimyo to ever reign."
"Surely not!" Madam Shijimi got up from her seat. Her grey colored cat continued to growl in her arms as she reached out to take the sweet tea from her husband's hands, a teasing smile revealed the laugh lines upon her face. The poor Mr. Touma, so weighed down by the news, opened his mouth only for dead air to be heard.
"It's the village itself, s-sir."
"Yes. As you've stated before, out with it. You're gaping like a fish!" The Daimyo, whose nerves have been soothed by the sweetness of tea, was growing impatient with the secretary's lack of promptness "What happened now?"
Tomua inhaled, lifting his gaze from the ground. "It has been destroyed."
A silence fell in the gardens so heavy that even the cat was muted. Glass shattered upon the paved stone floors and a horrified gasp from the Daimyo's wife was all it took to break through it. The Daimyo walked back to his chaise and his thin legs collapsed ungracefully onto the plush seats.
"Madam Shijimi," he said with an eerily steady voice. "I believe it is around the time you should visit the nursery. I hear our grandchildren have been quite eager to receive you."
"But Teru-"
"I was not asking, madam." The Daimyo's tone was gentle but final. And just as his wife was about to retort, with tears of uncertainty welling up within her large brown eyes, a severity, unlike anything that Mr. Touma had seen before on his master's face, reached Teruo's eyes. His normally tranquil countenance stretched back and a look of warning removed any thought of asking questions from his wife. This was no exchange between husband and wife, but a command being given between Daimyo and subject.
The only reply that the Daimyo would accept from his wife was a solemn bow. As she shuffled off back to the children's apartments, Teruo watched waiting until his wife was out of hearing distance. He turned back to his servant. His spine straightening and his eyes reclaiming the serenity briefly lost. The atmosphere quickly changed, but it was not one Mr. Touma could relax in.
"Mr. Touma?"
"Yes, sir?" his voice trembled at the face of this man's unnatural calm. For so many years Teruo Yuyi, the fourth to bear this name, was not known to have the striking presence of his forebears. In his youth, many at court declared him effeminate and slow. Many of the courtiers believed him to be inferior to that of his many bastard siblings, but somehow, through some miracle, he lived out his life untouched by his stronger and more charismatic counterparts to see himself crowned as the absolute warlord of the Land of Fire. Now, Mr. Touma could see why. There was something quiet and cunning, maybe even something threatening, beneath this soft and skinny unassuming shell.
"Walk with me."
It was three words he didn't expect the Daimyo to say, and as he watched the old ruler venture towards the hedge way he struggled to move. Teruo paused in his steps and inclined his head towards Touma, the look he gave him was one of carefully-constructed boredom.
"Well come along, I could use the exercise."
Touma could hear the warning in The Daimyo's voice; the tone gave away what his face expertly hid. Teruo folded his hands behind his back, his steps taking on a leisurely pace as Touma scurried to catch up to him, creating two distinct rhythms as they ambled upon the stone paths, cutting through the peaceful silence of the gardens The light was fading, golden tones receding into shadows as dusk overtook the sky. Soon the paths would be lit by lanterns and the softness of the golden hour would revert the world back to its harsh lines and stark colors.
They walked on in silence with Teruo contemplating and Touma anticipating. It was only when they reached the halfway point of their journey, a cluster of black pine trees that the daimyo finally spoke. When did the attack occur?"
Touma flinched. "About four days ago, sir."
"Four Days." Teruo bit out. "Why wasn't I immediately informed?"
"All the systems of communication within the village were down immediately upon attack. Your Highness was only able to receive this information once they were successful at finally securing a messenger hawk. We've been receiving brief messages through said hawk, but only periodically. It may take some time before we can have a better form of communication."
Teruo steadily kept his gaze ahead, "And the extent of the destruction?"
"I have not had full access to the reports as of yet, my Daimyo." His servant gulped. "But the message states…that it has been destroyed completely."
"All of it?" Teruo stopped, whirling around to confirm the truth of his statement.
"All of it, sir." Touma shakily repeated.
His old eyes widened, and even his own fingers began to tremble. He righted his features once more, revealing nothing but a dignified containment of emotions that revealed nothing to his secretary. He continued his walk. But his mind was something else. A thousand thoughts gushed, like water bursting through a broken dam. A storm was coming, that much he was sure, and the entire country was unprepared to deal with what came with it now that their first wall of defense was down. In fact, Konoha was their only wall of defense.
A pang of frustration settled along his limbs. It was not for the first time that Teruo Yuyi, Sovereign of the Land of Fire, felt impotent in the face of danger. He had no control over this matter, not when it came to Konoha and its blasted stipulation to remain hidden and autonomous.
In his frustration, Teruo sped up his pace. "What of the people? And the Hokage? Is Tsunade Senju still alive?"
"She is." Touma hastily replied.
Teruo's shoulders relaxed and a sharp exhale of relief shuddered through him.
"But she has been declared comatose. The village elders have requested that you appoint a successor to temporarily take her place. In fact a candidate has already been chosen." Touma followed up, catching his breath to keep up with his master.
Teruo nodded. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned towards winding cobblestone paths that lead to the back entrance of his private study.
"I see. And who is the lucky candidate?"
"It was one Danzo Shimura, sir."
Teruo fought to keep his face passive, but Touma knew that his master had an extreme dislike for the man.
"Ahh yes, the… stoic one," Teruo said with thinly disguised distaste. "A poor conversationalist that one is. He was never one for charm whenever we would have state meetings. Now Tsunade, though brash, could at least hold a decent conversation. My wife is quite fond of her as you remember."
The observation might have been the kindest of comments that the Daimyo could give. Touma knew from their past interactions alone that a lack of charm was the least dangerous factor of Danzo's undesirable qualities. Silence followed after as the view of the southern tower came into view, its facade stark white against a darkening sky, and Touma knew that once they crossed its threshold and passed the entrance to the Daimyo's private study, he would not be resting any time soon.
"And the survivors? How many casualties?" Teruo inquired.
"Only a few." Touma sped forth, rushing up the steps to open the small gate that led to a direct path to the study. It was only when the daimyo passed him did he continue. "Tsunande-sama's last act before collapsing, was ensuring the survival of the people."
Teruo smirked. "Cheaters of death the lot of them. Leave it to the shinobi-bred to find a way to withstand a cataclysmic explosion. It's too bad they won't share the rest of that information with the rest of us."
There was a peculiar hint of bitterness in that last comment. But having been all too aware of his position in life, and anxious to a fault, Touma knew instinctively not to address it.
It almost seemed like a lifetime when they finally breached his study, and just like every other evening, Teruo resumed his place behind his desk and Touma remained standing, his place across from his master.
The room was cool and well lit. The large window behind his ornate desk displayed the vast gardens below, and the darkened sky above it. Teruo ambled towards his desk, his footsteps muffed by the ornate carpet below his feet. He swiveled his chair towards him and occupied it just as he would his throne, with great dignity and intimidating power radiating from his unassuming form. Touma wondered why other courtiers couldn't feel this oppressive aura emanating from the man before him; surely it couldn't be just him who felt it?
Whatever ease that Teruo previously excluded melted away as he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. His eyes were hard chips of charcoal, his mouth a severe line carved upon a wrinkled face as he braced himself for more news. The man seated at the desk gave no airs of softness.
"Your Highness, shall I send a missive to the other lords to gather?" Mr Touma approached the desk. "I know an event such as this would require their immediate presence."
Teruo dismissively waved his hand. "Delay that order, Mr. Touma."
"But-" Mr. Touma said, before he could stop himself. He realized his mistake when Teruo eyes narrowed into a withering glare.
"Fret not, Mr. Touma. The Lords will gather soon enough." Teruo rested his chin upon his folded hands, glaring into the dark wood of his desk.
Touma waited, watching as the man before him silently calculated his next move.
"I want to know everything, Mr. Touma. News of the attack shall hold off until I know absolutely everything to know about this incident." He straightened his back, and clasped his hands together. His eyes were drawn to the smooth surface of his desk, his mind already calculating for the ordeal to come. A beat of silence passed, one filled with tension, before Teruo flitted his gaze back to his secretary.
He propped his chin on top of his chin and drawled, "Well, I'm waiting, Mr. Touma."
Touma snapped to attention, "Right. I'll go fetch the reports."
The man hastily bowed, taking three steps backwards before pivoting his steps to leave the study. He was almost there, his hand already poised at the handle of the heavy doors when Teruo stopped him once more.
"Oh, and Mr. Touma?"
The secretary warily turned his head, dreading the words that would come. "Yes, Master?"
"After you relayed all your reports," Teruo cleared his throat and leaned back against his chair. "Send a message to Yanagi House. It's time for an old friend to come over for tea
"Shall I close the windows, Your Grace?"
Lian Mai sat across from her, wearing her usual look of eternal disapproval upon her face. Her finger was already placed on the switch, prepared to apply the right pressure on the button at her mistress' word. Watching the woman fidgeting on her seat in what appeared to be a pant suit of neutral color, Himiko wryly surmised that the action was to Lian Mai's benefit and not her own. Hiding a smirk behind her ring-adorned fingers, Himiko's reply was a simple nod. A chuckle loosened from her lips as her lady-in-waiting visibly melted into her seat, relief plain on her face to see. It was rare sight for Lian Mai, champion of decorum and propriety, to display anything else other than restrained boredom or dignified discontent.
"Even after all these years of your service, I sometimes forget that you are a creature of the heat, Lian Mai."
"Forgive me, ma'am. We southern-born are used to a more comfortable climate."
Himiko hummed in agreement. Her eyes drifted back to the window, watching the view of a sleeping city as a comfortable silence settled within the carriage. Summer could only last so long, the winds were proof of that. Soon the trees would boast sunset colored leaves, autumn announcing its presence within the Land of Fire through gray sun-less skies and torrential rains. Then winter would follow, and the snows piling onto the streets like thick white blankets only served as a reminder that she had been in the capital for too many years.
She closed her eyes and readjusted her shawl around her small shoulders, her mind reeling back to a place where the cypress grew abundantly along the mountains, barricading the lands from the encroaching provinces and their quarreling nobles. She remembered the soothing scent of those evergreen trees, the sheer sense of tranquility that would overcome her senses as she passed under the shadow of ancient trees towering over her. Hinoki, her ancestors called it, named for the very trees that her people relied on to house them from the elements, warm them from cruel, cutting storms, and heal them with precious oils extracted from their needles. Even now, she could smell its spicy scent, the memory of it bringing back scenes and frustrated feelings that would only reopen old wounds. She may be here in Hibana at her Daimyo's generosity, but her place would always be in Hinoki.
"Surely he could have summoned us at a decent hour. He should give consideration regarding your rank. Even though he is the head of state, there are plenty of hours within daylight to conduct a private audience, especially with a duchess. What will people think when news breaks out?"
"I commend you, my dear Lian Mai. But I think imaginations will be quite tame when they hear that an old woman is coming to visit the Daimyo in the middle of the night. "
Lian Mai flustered as her Mistress chortled in her seat. Red spots bloomed on her pale cheeks as she smoothed her hands down the fabric of pants, trying to rid her mind of the images made from her mistress' bawdy allusions. To say she was mortified was an understatement. Scrambling to regain a sense of composure, her spine straightened and she clasped her hands together as she took a steadying breath.
"What I'm saying, Your Grace, is that it would be more efficient to conduct a private audience during the day. At least then we would have had ample time to prepare! A woman of your repute and station in life should be treated with the proper respect!" Lian Mai vehemently declared. Her slim black brows knitted together, her brown eyes narrowing in resentment as her lips pressed into a thin line. She kept her gaze firmly placed on the space in front of her as if she was lecturing the Daimyo himself.
It was during her passionate speech that Himiko's boisterous laughter dwindled down into small giggles. She let out a satisfied sigh with a small smile being the only thing that was left of her earlier mirth. She remained patient in the face of the lady's tirade; it was only due to honing her patience throughout her long life and years of having this woman's service that Himiko was able to keep a placid face, nodding emphatically now and then as Lian Mai recited the proper protocols of what to do and what not to do in these particular times. When she finished with a long suffering a sigh, an action that the lady herself would have personally admonished had it been anyone else, Himiko reached through the space of the carriage to comfortingly pat Lian Mai's hands. Soothed by the action and clearly grateful that her words had been heard by her mistress, Lian Mai's round face smoothed itself out from her earlier ire.
"All I am saying is that a duchess, should be treated with the proper protocol and not be summoned in the middle of the night like some common maid."
"There, there, dear. We must remember that he has been a gracious host all these years, and from the time I've known him, I know that Teruo Yuyi is not a man of whimsy."
A silence fell between them at the implication of her words.
"Do you think something could be wrong?" Lian Mai considered. "Was there any indication of thre-"
"I don't know." Himiko replied, before the lady could finish her question. "Here in this strange land…nothing is ever certain. Nevertheless, despite his graciousness towards my household, we must be on our guard."
She steadied her gaze towards her lady-in-waiting, silently impressing upon her a thousand warnings. Lian Mai may be able to rant all she wanted within Himiko's presence, but when faced with the Daimyo she must not give anything away. Lian Mai gave a shaky nod, her eyes were kept downcast, and her thoughts drawing back to some place far away.
With the knowledge of what was to come in the following hours, Himiko turned her gaze to the window, watching shadows dance upon the pavement. Black shapes danced upon amber-lit stone, elongating, shortening and disappearing altogether as the carriage made its way down the silent streets of Hibana City. Cold winds blew against the grey stoned facades of buildings, creating strange sounds as they passed through every nook and cranny of the capital city, penetrating through the glass of the window. It was a chill that cut through her, from her well-worn skin down to her old bones hidden beneath soft muscle. She took a deep breath, willing the wish to sleep away from her body and hoping that the sudden chill would invigorate her for what was to come down the road.
"Do you miss home, Lian Mai?"
She cleared her throat, meeting her mistress' unreadable gaze with misty eyes.
"Every day, ma'am."
"I do too." She turned back to the window, eyeing the massive wrought iron gate that led to the palace. "Send a prayer to our gods, Lian Mai. For I feel them watching us tonight."
He sat upon the veranda, feet bare and dangling over the edge with his toes barely scraping the ground below. Koi languidly swam through the black water of their small domain, and he watched their pale bodies, splotched with orange and black, brush against the edge of the surface before disappearing into what seemed like a boundless pool. When the waters would still, he could see the silver Cheshire grin, hanging in the sky, reflected upon the surface and then it would shatter, disrupted by the bodies below. It was the night of the waxing crescent, an auspicious time, according to superstition, for planning schemes of mischief. Boyhood memories of old whispers belonging to an old woman that had once been his governess came to his mind.
"The night is a goddess, young Teruo. Hanging there in the sky is her silver eye. Evil grows as it waxes and fades when it wanes. And when her silver eye is closed, shades crawl out, enacting their plans of mischief and discord. Beware the moonless night, for chaos reigns without her benevolent, watchful gaze."
He believed himself to be a man driven by pragmatism and kept steady by logic, but as the memory of his ancient governess replayed in his head, the sight of the waxing moon gave him a sense of foreboding that he could well do without. A benevolent silver eye that floated in the midst of black sky, a tale that should remain within the words of old women and yellowed pages within old books. They had no place within reality.
He was arguably the most powerful man in the country, and yet the great irony of his position was that when war was upon his people he had no choice but to meet it head on. And a man of war, he was not. He let out a bitter laugh. He didn't even look the part. He thought of the massive portrait that hung in the halls of the palace, his forefathers stern-faced and imposing, all dressed in fine silks overlaid with gold and silver plated armor, each looking like demigod in their own rights.
He was the first Daimyo to decline to such a portrait. A decision that did little to soothe the ire of his advisors early on in his reign. Contrary to what his ancestors proclaimed, Teruo didn't fancy himself a man of godly lineage. His namesake, Teruo I, claimed that his mother was a descendant of the sun god and used such a claim to take the surrounding lands that circled his territory. And he did so by proclaiming that his divine progenitor told him to do so on the pretense that he was carrying out a "heavenly " will. History claims that people willingly gave up their lands in the face of his holy claim, though anyone would willingly give up their lands when faced with massive armies and mercenary groups at a brash young man's disposal.
He wonders what his ancestor would think of him now, this soft bellied, scrawny man who descended from sons that grew soft and fat from years of decadence. A Daimyo was supposed to be a Lord of War, yet Teruo did everything in his power to avoid anything that would lead to it. But in spite of his efforts to maintain the fragile peace that managed to bloom despite the enduring enmity between the great nations, war had sauntered up to his doorstep, brought on by a group of mercenaries that he had failed to anticipate.
Akatsuki, the reports had called them, a group of mercenaries that were known to be radical defectors from almost all major hidden villages. A group of radicals who are claimed to have the powers of gods. A group capable of wiping out the only defense that his people have against any outside threat. A group that was now in line to destroying what he had worked to maintain and protect, and he was grossly unprepared to deal with them. A group that he had failed to be informed of by the very village that had sworn at its conception to protect the Land of Fire. But he had no choice but to rely on Konoha, a village still trying to maintain its power despite being literally reduced to a crater.
He felt powerless, and Touma's reports had taken their toll. The problem was a tangle of threads, with every pull came more questions and sadly, there were not enough answers. He was in the dark, and as long as Konoha continued its practices, he would remain there for as long as they wanted to be.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the familiar pressure building up in his brain. The doors behind him slid open, revealing Mr. Touma, his head respectfully down low.
"My Esteemed Lord, your guests have arrived at the Main Gate."
He took in a deep breath, and turned back to the black pond with the silver smile. Now was the time to do his part.
"Prepare the room."
The Tsutsuji Reception room was notorious for being untouchable to outsiders. Only close friends and family were allowed to breach its doors and share the company of the land's head of state, and even then those were moments far and few between. A rarer occurrence than an appearance of a blue moon, as one would say.
It was the one place in the entire castle where Teruo could find undisturbed peace from sanctimonious sycophants, complaining relatives, and even his wife. It was a well-protected isolated oasis that seemed untouchable to outsiders, and whenever he was within its walls, people rarely disturbed him.
And so when the placid faced servant led Himiko and Lian Mai towards the private apartments instead of more neutral places, such as one of the drawing rooms or parlors that were found within the inner palace, Himiko felt mildly amused. She didn't have to look at Lian Mai to know that her previous ire for this abrupt audience was wiped away by restrained curiosity. Even those who religiously kept to protocol could be briefly dazzled by the unknown and well hidden.
If anything there was an unrestrained lavishness, a polite way of saying gaudy, to the corridors that they passed through, no doubt Madame Shijimi's touches to the palace. This wasn't the first time Himiko ventured through these halls, but those were times long gone, a time where she was younger, stronger, and more naive than she was now. A different man sat on the hallowed throne that his youngest son now inhabited and everyone that she could call a friendly face was either in the ground or too far from her to reach.
Among the imposing portraits of Daimyos, consorts, and princes long past were trinkets, modern works of art, gilded vases, and the occasional ridiculous feline figurine of bejeweled porcelain. On the left side the large arched windows that line the walls were gold tasseled, velvet curtains that were in a shade of bruised purple. It was a sad mesh of tradition and modernity, and from her peripheral vision, Himiko noticed Lian Mai's poorly concealed frown as they played witness to the display of-or should they say lack thereof elegance. To say that things have changed since her time at the Yuyi court was an understatement.
"This way, Your Grace." said their guide.
They were led outside through arch doorways leading to well paved paths lined with hedges and maple trees. The gardens were a comforting sight, after living in the city for far too long being in the presence of thriving greenery brought her a familiar comfort. Nostalgia washed over her as they crossed a crimson colored bridge that led then through the neck
"It seems that our beloved Head of State has commanded us to take the scenic route," Himiko observed.
The servant ducked his head, "Forgive me Your Grace, this is actually a short cut to His Highness' study. The trek may be hard, but we will make good time."
Himiko tilted her head, a single eyebrow quirked in interest. " Oh, well consider me surprised."
Lian Mai gave her a meaningful look, her earlier irritation returning with full frontal force. Their trek through the private gardens was not long as the servant had promised, but it was not smooth or easy to take. But before Lian Mai's patience ran out, they had arrived. And their standing at the entrance, looking like wan, but otherwise awake, was Mr. Touma.
The servant scurried away, leaving Lian Mai and Himiko to stand alone until Touma descended down the steps. The corners of his mouth lifted into a polite smile before he respectfully bowed as protocol dictated."Your Grace, on behalf of High Lord Yuyi, I thank you for arriving on such short notice."
Himiko gave him a gracious nod, "Your gratitude is welcome, I can only hope I can be of service to his highness, seeing that a summons in the middle of the night can only mean something serious."
Touma stood up to his full height and the smile that was once on his face was replaced with a frown, one that he fought to hide once he remembered who he was standing in front of. He cleared his throat and gestured to the doorway behind him.
"The Daimyo has been waiting for your arrival for some time." He turned around and opened the heavy wooden doors.
"I know." Himiko ascended the steps, clutching her shall to her shoulders as the wind blew against them "His waiting time could have been cut short had he waited until tomorrow, or should I say...later in the afternoon."
Touma's cheeks burned crimson beneath her reproachful gaze, looking more like a chastened child than a grown man as he led her through the slim corridors that led to the infamous room.
"On behalf of my master, I beg for your forgiveness. There was little I could do to sway his mind."
She turned back to look at Lian Mai to see her clearly displeased, had they been alone there was no doubt that the woman would have launched into a full on lecture on the poor organization within such an important institution.
"And to what do I owe this hasty summons?"
Touma turned around to address Himiko's question, but before he could answer he silenced himself with a hasty bow. Teruo stood at the entrance to the room dressed in plain brown robes, his hands clasped behind his back and face poised in a relaxed smile. He gave Touma a nod and the man wordlessly moved to the side to give way to his master.
"I'll be the one to inform Her Grace, thank you Mr. Touma."
Himiko and Lian Mai knelt to the floor, an uneasy task considering the narrow width of the corridor. Himiko felt her bones creak in protest as her knees touched the floor, but she showed no signs of her discomfort. Weakness was something she wasn't keen on displaying, even if she had the excuse of old age.
"You may rise, Madame Himiko." Teruo ordered.
Lian Mai got up to her feet and hastily moved to help her mistress stand once more. She had been silent the whole way through, but the moment Teruo had made his presence known, her face had been wiped clean, giving away nothing of what she felt inside.
"I see you brought a guest with you." Lian Mai kept her face respectfully downcast as the man appraised her. He didn't seem pleased or irritated with her presence, but it was quite clear that he didn't want her here.
"Lady Lian Mai is quite dear to me. I wouldn't be able to get through the day if I didn't have her at my side."
"So I've seen. But I specifically requested that your presence was the only one that I required tonight." Teruo admitted, his voice neither kind nor impolite.
"I know what your missive said, Your Highness. I may be old but my eyes are still capable of reading. She is my aid, as I'm sure Mr. Touma is to you. Since this is going to be a private audience I ask that you provide someplace for Lady Lian Mai to rest comfortably as we wait."
"Indeed." Teruo quirked a single brow before turning to address his secretary. "Touma, inform the maids to prepare two of the guest apartments. If she is to wait, she might as well get some rest for the day to come."
"Forgive me for intruding, Your Highness." Lian Mai said, concern crinkling the corners around her eyes. "Are we to stay overnight? Yanagi House isn't that far from the castle, and we wouldn't want to burden your staff-"
"It won't be a burden, my lady." Teruo answered. "Yuyi Castle's staff is highly trained to take on tasks at a moment's notice. And please, I have awakened Madame Himiko's household at such an ungodly hour. It is only right that I let you resume your rest."
"But sir-"
"It's alright, Lian Mai," Himiko quickly interjected, "After all, who are we to reject such accommodations from the Daimyo himself."
A meaningful look passed between mistress and servant, one tinged with daring and warning. Had she been anyone else, Lian Mai would have huffed before flouncing away, but she was gifted with restraint. And so a terse nod with a dissatisfied glint in her brown eyes was the only thing to suggest that the lady was displeased with the situation's current arrangement. She bowed once more, this time a tad too exaggerated to be interpreted as respectful.
"You are very kind, sir." She drawled.
Teruo inclined his head, serenity dripping from face and if he noticed the small show of irritation from the lady before him, he didn't acknowledge it.
"Rest well, Lian." Himiko gave her an encouraging smile, softening the features of the lady's face. Touma scrambled forward, overtaking Lian Mai with barely-hidden exasperation. He mumbled something before tiredly gesturing towards the corridors that led to the hallways that would end with the sleeping quarters.
"I have a feeling that that woman doesn't like me."
"You must forgive her, Your Highness. You did wake my household in the middle of the night." She fixed her gaze back to the man at her side, her dark eyes absent of fatigue and shining with interest. "Now, I wish to know why."
"You know quite well that I'm not a man of impulse. Never was to be honest." He pushed the sliding doors open, revealing a room traditional in design with its tatami mats, minimal decor, and a low standing table laden with what looks like a fresh pot of tea, and just as he claimed, all kinds of sweet meats and snacks. "I was always the more cautious of my brothers, a trait that my father didn't quite appreciate but tolerated. Not that I cared, I was quite content to live my life in obscurity, but as fate would have it, events did not go as expected."
"Of course," she gingerly lowered herself to the zabuton set aside for her, "It is easy to forget that we are rarely in control of what things will be."
He poured them tea, the bitter fragrance of it quickly filling in the room. "True, but evidence has shown that Man is quite capable of influencing the outcome of things when provided with the right motivation and of course…resources." He took an indulgent sip, savoring the taste dancing on his tongue, and Himiko watched, patient as she waited for Teruo to address the matter at hand. "Did you enjoy the new decor? Well, new to you, of course. I know it has been sometime since you've last visited."
Small talk, meaningless banter, things that she believed she could do well without, but she answered anyway, albeit carefully. "Your wife has such unique taste."
He idly stirred his tea with a tiny spoon before popping a small cake into his mouth, "If by unique you mean garish and tasteless," he said in between tiny, crumb-less bites, "then yes I'm inclined to agree with you."
"As the man of the home, I'm sure you have equal say as to what gets to be a not be within these walls. Besides, your mother would have greatly disapproved of what has been done to the private apartments. "
"Yes," He smirked. "She would've been quite cross, but seeing that she no longer graces the earth with her fine presence, I've chosen to allow my wife to have her free reign."
"And I suppose you have your reasons? Yuhi Castle is hailed as the very heart of this country, and it should look the part."
"Can't a man indulge his wife for her own happiness? I have found that subscribing to the philosophy Happy Wife, Happy Life is one of the few sayings that I actually live by."
Himiko raised her cup to her mouth, the fragrance filling her nostrils before she flitted her gaze back to the Daimyo."Even at the cost of your beloved ancestral home looking like a wayside pawn shop?"
He smiled, his eyes filled with indulgence. "The greatness of Yuhi Castle shall endure past my lifetime. Besides, I have found that happy people make an easier life, even if it means at the expense of my own happiness."
"How noble of you." She placed her cup back on the table. The ceramic hitting wood, but making no sound.
He tilted his head, watching her in amusement and smiling to himself as if a private joke had been shared. "Nobility is a requirement for all Daimyo to possess. Sadly, as you may know, not many can live up to this standard."
She quirked her brow, unconvinced as she plucked a small cake from the table."And do you believe you've reached such heights?"
He sighed, casting his gaze to the open veranda."One might as well pretend until they start believing it. And as an act of such nobility, I have the honor of proclaiming here and now, that you, Himiko the Duchess of Hinoki, are allowed to return to your beloved home."
Beneath his mirthful gaze, she stiffened in her seat. "I beg your pardon."
"Home, my dear Madame." He said, as if speaking to a child. "I truly hope that you've come to find comfort in Yanagi House, but we both know that you were never meant to stay within the capital for too long. You have my permission to return to your beloved Hinoki with my blessing. "
"Why?" She said, her voice shaking.
The Daimyou leaned forward, propping his chin on his fist. "Do you remember when I said happy people make my life easier? Because something is about to take place that will make my people very unhappy and what better way to soothe such unhappiness than to send their beloved duchess back to her rightful place."
Her eyes narrowed."So there is a condition to my return after all. Very well then, let's hear it."
He took a swig of his tea, flitting his gaze back to her. His eyes were cold, dark chips of onyx and his mouth was severe.
"War." He uttered. He did not shout, nor did he whisper, but Himiko felt the blow of that one single word nonetheless. It took every fiber of her body to gently rest her teacup upon the flat surface of the table. She took a steady breath, one that did nothing to steady her at all, and folded her shaking hand upon her lap.
She forced her hands to still, feeling her palms growing cold and damp, as she shakily asked,"With whom?"
"A radical group of defected shinobi. All of whom claim past ties with the other Hidden Villages. They are called Akatsuki." The man with the serene mask was gone, and what was revealed was a tired, old man with hard determined eyes, a bitter mouth, and a steel spine hidden beneath soft muscle. He looked older, uncertain, and grave. "Himiko, Konoha has fallen."
"How is that possible?" Himiko's voice was distant, her eyes drawn to the clean surface of the table top as she tried to pull the fragments of her calm back into her. "Their wall is built to withstand sieges!"
"They weren't attacked by ordinary men, madame. It was completely destroyed, literally wiped away from the face of the Earth from one man who, I can thankfully say, is dead now." He leaned forward and rested his chin upon his threaded hands. "I thought that the age of godlike men ended with the death of Sarutobi Hiruzen. I thought all that was left of those great clans were dust, bone and infertile scions, but I have been sorely mistaken."
"Does it make you feel safer at night to know that such beings live at your disposal?" Her voice was cold. Anger, old and familiar, rose from the depths of her being as she said those words.
But Teruo was undeterred. He was well aware how the southern provinces felt about shinobi. Bad blood that spilled within the annals of this great country's history had faded into a begrudging tolerance
"No," he replied quietly. "It doesn't. I don't share the same fascination my father had with the shinobi, even if they have their uses. Rather, I share the same sentiments that your people have."
Himiko said nothing in response to that. She unfolded her hands and proceeded to avail of the intricate pastries before her as if the distressing news that he had just told her hadn't been uttered at all. But something about the purse of her lips and the enduring silence to his statement told him that she remained unconvinced. It didn't matter to him. He knew what was true.
"Konoha has taken too many liberties, and now the entire country has to pay the price. Peace has always been so fragile, and now I must do what I can to calm my people's fears." He took a deep breath, his shoulder drooping with weariness. "Reports dictate that Akatsuki was already an incessant thorn at Konoha's side long before this attack, which is something that the village leaders believed was irrelevant to share with my person. "
She had seen this type of frustration before, had seen it on a face not unlike the one she was looking at now. Memories of late afternoons in the gardens of her ancestral home drifted into her mind, moments of her lifetime spent placating an ambitious young man too embittered by his circumstances and the state of affairs in his lands to think clearly. He was too eager to enable change for a land that was unyielding to change, and because he would not succumb to a power that was greater than his own, he was cast away by the very man sitting before her.
A familiar bitterness settled behind the melancholy that usually accompanied such memories, but she couldn't afford to show it, especially when faced with Teruo Yuyi. So she picked up her teacup, caressing the saucer with her slim, delicate fingers as he laid bare all that he had learned
"And now the proverbial beans have been spilled, and while you stew in irritation due to a miscommunication mishap, the Land of Fire remains defenseless and by extension, Hinoki as well."
He pinched the bridge of his nose."We are not without the tools to get things done, Madame. As we speak delegates from all hidden nations are heading to the Land of Iron."
Himiko quirked a brow."Samurai Country? How kind of them to offer up neutral ground. I thought their sentiments towards shinobi kind were less than warm."
"Apparently not." He said with a wry smirk. " Perhaps they miss wetting their cold blades with the warm blood of their enemies."
Her eyes narrowed once more. "Don't joke."
For all they knew that might still be the case. But the samurai of Iron kept to their mountain since the first wars. They managed to keep themselves neutral not only out of choice, but because of the harsh terrain as well.
He rolled his eyes, a most juvenile, undignified action that Lian Mai would have sneered at. "An alliance the first of its kind is in the making. Of course, they did little to consult me on this matter, but they rarely do, to be honest." His gaze was drawn to the calm scenery framed by the open doors. His mind was somewhere else. "They still intend to keep things hidden from their own head of state, even if their beloved forest has nothing to hide now, thanks to the Akatsuki."
"And here we are now. Two very old people sitting in the middle of the night, trying to reach the point of this little chat of ours."
He sighed, deflating like a chastened child under the reproachful gaze of a strait-laced governess.
"We are both painfully aware that Hinoki is a unique province within the Land of Fire." He carefully began.
"Quite, we always do our best to maintain our reputation as the Jewel of Fire." A smirk graced her features, relaxing the deep lines around her forehead and adding new ones to the corners of her mouth. She gently set down her cup, it contents completely gone. Himiko returned her face to an expression of neutrality, bracing herself for what came next.
"Yes, how can we ever forget your quaint seaside towns and pristine white sand beaches, but you are terribly mistaken if you thought I was referring to the tourist attractions." He leaned back against his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Relations between the rest of the provinces and Hinoki have never been…amicable in the past. History dictates that your lands were the last to join under our banner, but in spite of many years passing and the mutual rewards we reap from peaceful trade, ideas of…secession have continued to persist. I fear that news of this unexpected war will only cause this old wound to fester and spread."
"And so you want to send me, to not only soothe the fears of my people, but to stamp out these sentiments, correct?" She crossed her arms. "You overestimate me, sir. Not all these whispers will cease with my presence alone."
He gave a terse nod and then leaned forward, his dark eyes searching and imploring. "Even so, I am not asking them to cease, just to...lessen." He leaned forward, energy removed as he made his case. "I have seen first had what you are capable of once you set your mind to it. You can be…effective, when you want to, of course. And I advise you, dear duchess, to take it to heart when I say that a civil war is the last thing that this country needs in the wake of this threat. Hinoki will not be unscathed from this separation. You understand that, don't you?"
A beat of silence passed. Himiko relaxed her slender arms, but her eyes were hard and unflinching. "More than you know."
"Excellent." Teruo said, but neither of the two felt as if they had reached an agreement.
"But these sentiments…such things are only inevitable when there is a lack of respect for our ways and our traditions." She huffed with irritation. "As the Duchess of Hinoki I must be at Hinoki."
"You are always granted leave from this place whenever your spiritual duties are called for, don't you." He said, placating.
"It isn't enough!" Her voice rang within the small confines of the room. Teruo's eyes went wide, before creasing with equal irritation. Himiko settled in her seat, folding her hands in her lap as she cleared her throat. "My letters can only do so much where my eyes and ears can do better. You said so that my place is there…as well as another's."
His eyes burned, warning in his voice. "He is not allowed to return. At least, not yet."
"It has been decades, Teruo!" She entreated. "He is old now and I'm not getting younger either. I've only seen him for days at a time during days of spiritual importance! He needs to live out his days as my heir. I need my son home!"
"He may be your son in name, but in terms of blood he is still my brother." Teruo spat out.
"Half-brother. His mother was of my people!" She placed her hand on her chest. "You may share the same father, but he is mine. Your father made sure of that, when he thought he could silence me by giving me an heir. He came to me a scared and neglected child, and in spite of how he came to me, I love him and I raised him as my own."
She was breathless. Tears, long overdue, were threatening to spill, but she she would not let them fall. Not here. Not in front of this man.
"Blood is blood, Madame." He calmly stated. "He was my brother well before he was your son."
There was an air of finality to way he said through words, but Himiko wasn't done yet.
"Do you think he will think the same after all these years? Because I think he will think otherwise after you cast him off across an entire ocean."
"That was necessary." He bit out. He stood up from his seat, imperiously staring down at her.
But Himiko defiantly stared him on, her old bones be damned. "That was exile."
"Better to be thousands of miles away, than six feet underground." He crossed his arms behind his back and walked towards the veranda, the sound of cicadas were ringing in the night. "I took a chance to prevent a loss that would have deeply wounded the both of us, or did you forget? He shall remain where he is and that is final."
Himiko closed her eyes. "To what end?"
He turned back to her, eyes no longer unforgiving. "When I say so."
What an answer to hear, it was neither reassuring nor informative, but Himiko was too tired to retort. Old wounds had resurfaced, and in that moment, they waited. Neither of them could find words to say, not when this meeting had unexpectedly breached a subject that they didn't think they would touch upon.
"Have you heard from him?" He quietly asked.
Himiko sighed. If she was a different person, she would have denied him an answer due to spite. But they were both hurting. "Correspondence has been sparse due to the storms, but I know he is well. He longs to return. He tells me every chance he writes."
"He will be home, Himiko." His voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Perhaps, sooner than you think. This war is different from the ones that we have had before. For the first time the Great Nations are willing to set aside their differences in order to combine their forces. I can only hope that this alliance extends long after this war is over."
He folded his arms behind his back and moved towards the veranda. A cool breeze breached through the doors, disturbing the temperature within the room.
Himiko clutched her shawl. "What does this have to do with my son?"
"There's a reason why my brother and I have been close despite our differences in parentage. We were supposed to be explorers, he and I. And when such childish fantasies gave way to our realities, our dreams changed but were not unalike." He turned to her, sadness in his eyes and a smile on his face. "He has a role to play in all this. I let him know as soon as one of your Hinokian ships left the harbor with my letter."
"So you intend to use him, then." Himiko said, flitting her gaze back to the man with a challenge in her voice. "Just like you are about to use me."
Teruo ignored her bait. He had enough of her anger and her frustration. "He is willing to be used for the good of this land. Are you?"
"People are not tools that you can just whip out at your disposal!" Himiko exclaimed.
"Careful, Madame." Teruo approached, his movements slow but sure. Once more he stared down at her, his shadow casting a long grey shape across the room. "You know who sits on the throne and you know who has the power to bring your boy back."
Himiko lifted her head, old eyes filled with iron. "I've never forgotten." Himiko lifted her head, old eyes filled with iron
He smiled, pleased by her response. He paced back to his chair, bending down to capture a pastry from the ornate serving plate. "This world is about to change, and whoever wins decides what kind of change that will be, and since I'm not too keen to renounce my title to a pack of terrorists, I intend to do whatever I can to supply the shinobi with what they need. When the tides of war have turned in our favor, when the world is no longer what it once was, only then will my brother return home for good."
"And then what?" She watched him pop the cake in his mouth, his jaw deliberately moving slow as he watched her stew in her ire. He swallowed with a self satisfied hum of appreciation
A cheerful grin bloomed upon his face, his eyes creasing with the action. "I don't know, but don't you want to find out?"
She didn't share in his enthusiasm, but agreed that aiding the shinobi in their war efforts would lead them to a better ending then one with a madman at the helm. There was also the fact that she now had the opportunity to return home, to claim her rightful place as the Duchess of her lands. Home. Home was where she was needed most. Teruo was watching her. She could feel him waiting, anticipating the old woman's answer. Though, just by the beginnings of that satisfied smirk growing upon his wrinkled face, she could tell that he already knew her answer before she did.
"So you'll do it then, return to Hinoki?" He leaned forward, eyes eager and shining with victory.
Himiko turned away from him, casting her gaze to the wall opposite of her."How can I refuse, when you make such a tempting offer? Now it is a matter of when."
"You are to leave tomorrow. This delegation between village leaders will not take long. Shinobi are poor conversationalists that much I've observed; they're too direct and blunt. I suspect they might even announce it today at day break, though unlikely now that I think of it. You must be there when I make the announcement."
"Understood." Her hands clutched the table's edge, preparing her joints from the ordeal of standing up.
He held out his hand. She looked at it and hesitated. Had she been a younger woman with bigger pride she would have rose out of that chair herself. But she wasn't youthful in body anymore, and her bones would cry out in protest if she did it herself. "Your rooms are not too far from here. They have been prepared with everything you need to rest well for the journey ahead."
"Thank you, you are most kind." Though the way she had said it would imply that she, in fact, though the opposite.
She ambled towards the exit, thankful that this tiresome ordeal was over. The night sky had faded to a slate grey, a prelude to the bright orange that would herald the coming of dawn.
"Oh, Your Grace." She paused in her movements and inclined her head towards him. "The carriage will be ready when you are. Sleep as much as you want. Something tells me you won't rest well in the coming days."
The doors slid open for her, and after making her way to the guest room, Himiko settled into her bed, her bones almost sighing in relief as the duvet covered her small weary body. That night she dreamed of cypress trees with songs flying between their branches and embers dancing in the air, and beyond it a raven singing songs of warning.
I hope you guys like my OCs! I know this chapter doesn't have any Sakura in it but there will be soon!
Please expect rewrites of the existing chapters as well as some new ones! Just to let reader's know, I will never give up on this story. I just love Sakura Haruno too much to give up on this story that I have planned out for her.
I'm trying to get the hang of writing while having a day job, so I apologize in advance seeing that updates will be quite slow. But anyway I have an outline for what's going to happen down the line. Hopefully, that will help with the updates! Well enjoy!