For Want of a Woman by littlelinguistme
Written for Day 7 of CoAi Week 2018 on Tumblr! Prompt: AU
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me. All recognizable elements belong to Gosho. Some dialogue and lyrics taken from/inspired by Bajirao Mastani.
I. BEIKA. 米花
Takagi Wataru was a proud man.
He was proud to have been born in the greatest province in all of Nihon; he was proud to call Beika his home. The water was pure and the sakura regal.
He was proud of his lady wife, a beauty by any standards. For her smile, he would fight in a hundred wars. Sato Miwako, a gift he didn't think he deserved but loved dearly.
He was proud of his sword, taken up in the name of protecting his village. This blade, inherited from his lord father, was heavy in his hand at first but Takagi grew accustomed to it quickly. He was especially proud to use that sword in the service of the great and most generous shogun, Lord Kudo Yusaku and his wife, the joyful Lady Yukiko.
But he was most proud of being employed directly in the service of their son, his daimyo, the enormously kind and brilliant Kudo Shinichi. In the few short years after he had taken up the lordship in Beika, their lands had grown to be almost twice their original size. The rice harvest was large and plentiful and the soybeans were healthy and sweet. It was common speculation amongst the villagers that the young lord Kudo had caught the favor of Amaterasu herself.
All those achievements and Takagi hadn't even begun to account for his lord's battle prowess. Though the little lord was younger than he, Takagi had never once seen the man lose a battle. The young master Kudo seemed to be gifted with foresight. He always knew the enemy's next moves and made sure his warriors were a step ahead.
This year, Takagi had the privilege of being handpicked by his lord to be his personal aide. A retainer position, which he humbly accepted.
Yes, Takagi Wataru was immensely proud of his life and of his lord, once upon a time…
When exactly, had that started to change?
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II. SHINRAI. 信頼
Being a man of a diligent disposition, you watched your young charge carefully. You would never presume to know what your lord was thinking, but you thought that perhaps you could at least tell if the man were pleased or displeased.
When the shogun decided to consolidate his son's succession claim, he decided it best to join with his most powerful ally. The Mouris were a well beloved family, and their daughter was the perfect fit for his prodigious son. They had even been playmates as children.
Whispers of the young lord's marriage were all that could be heard in the imperial house for months. You had never met the girl before but you dared to hope that she would make your lord as happy as your own wife made you.
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Kudo Shinichi, you decided, was not able to read the future. He was simply extraordinarily observant.
Having the honor of serving under him, you were able to watch the young lord closely. And learn from him. Sometimes, probably, you could even pinpoint what small unassuming detail led your master to make the decision he had.
This particular day, the young lord had but received a piece of calligraphy from the Mouri house. You had been able to catch a glance of it and while it was beautiful, you did not understand what it was about the painting that made your lord put the house into a frenzy.
A single glance had him ordering a fresh wild boar, a veritable gaggle of ducks, and enough fruits and vegetables for the biggest feast Takagi had ever witnessed. He called in every domestic servant currently under his employ and had them clearing out rooms and dusting and generally making sure the compound was spotless.
How could a single landscape cause all this fuss, you wondered. The young lord caught you staring over his shoulder.
"Takagi."
"Milord!"
"Are you perhaps wondering why I've ordered so many insensible tasks?" He had a smile in his voice, you could tell he was amused.
You didn't know how to admit to sneaking glances at something that could be considered private. The young lord was kind, however.
"Here, come take a look at this." You were grateful to have such a tolerant lord.
You approached your masters' table, the silks of your kimono fluttering. Young Lord Kudo stepped to the side to accommodate you. A silence.
Finally, Takagi spoke, "Milord, this lowly one admits he knows not what there is to be seen."
"What do you observe of this painting, Takagi?" You thought he surely had patience in spades.
"This one sees a simple landscape portrait, Milord. Verdant rolling hills and what seems to be a peaceful stream. It is quite lovely." You hoped to impress him. You looked up when he suddenly moved, animated.
"That's exactly right, Takagi! I knew you'd notice the most important feature!" He gestured wildly at a turn in the stream. "You see it? Right there!" You could only look at him blankly, completely lost as to what he was referring; you were too ashamed to speak.
Your lord graciously continued, choosing not to comment on your failure. "The stream meander has grown as large as it can possibly be. The curve is so sharp that soon, the flow will be strong enough to cut though the curve and re-establish a straight path. This is the Mouri's explanation for the late notice of their imminent arrival."
You blinked in awe. "Of course, my lord! It seems they have been on their way for quite some time and due to a change of path, they expect their arrival will be much sooner than was previously announced! That's incredible young master!"
Your master grinned at you, proud, and you were, again, grateful to be in his service. You readily bowed your head to him, and took your leave to join the hunting party.
You and your compatriots stalk the mountain woods for prey. For the first time, you took notice of why the river turns suddenly. You cautioned to the others that the land through the curves will be flooded and they were impressed by your knowledge.
You were, again, humbled by your previous inattentiveness. The young master truly did have extraordinary talent in observation.
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As expected, the Mouri envoy arrived the next evening, a full week before they were anticipated. You said nothing when your lord returned from dinner, flustered and red-faced in boyish embarrassment at seeing his future bride for the first time since they were children. If your face twitched more than usual, well, perhaps you were just itching to sneeze. Spring had just begun after all, and your seasonal allergies acted up from time to time.
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By chance, you caught a glimpse of her a week later. The sun filled the sky that day, but, you remember, it was nothing in comparison to her sublime beauty. She was done up in the finest silks and satins, yet her hair seemed softer than the fabric of her grand kimono. She looked so graceful there, drinking tea in the shade of the garden.
She too, was impossibly kind. You were bewildered when she thanked you for your part in hunting their dinner the week previous. You replied that it is your duty and your privilege to serve your lord.
The mention of him sent her beguiling eyes wide and she lost her composure.
Fearing that the loss of decorum was the fault of your own, you made a hasty exit.
Later, meditating in your room, you thought she would be a good match for your lord. You mused that perhaps her gentility would give her strength when the young master was up in arms. You wonder if your lady wife will be allowed to attend the ceremony in the fall...
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The moon was painted red and with it, Nihon. You stared out into the long twilight as you trailed your lord on horseback, all thoughts of women and marriage, forgotten. The rest of the convoy followed some distance behind. Every sound in the forest put you on edge and you gripped the hilt of your sword more firmly.
The armor you wore was stifling and made it difficult to breathe, but you were glad for it. Nights like these surely played host to the hyakki yagyo and you were determined to see your lady wife again, after these talks for peace were finished.
You heard the men chanting protection spells behind you.
Lord Kudo loudly intoned that youkai were constructs of women, "stories created to scare their young children into behaving."
His words reminded you of the vow of courage you swore. You forewent the prayers and, instead, placed your faith in Kudo Shinichi as you all marched towards the castle at Nagoya.
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You clutched your side as your breathing harshened, an enemy blade just grazing you before you whirled away. The promise of peace talks had been but a front for an abush. Your lord had only noticed at the last moment.
Now, as you retreated, you felt the ominous stillness in the air. Every forest shadow menaced your men. Every rustle had them lashing out in fear for they believed it was surely an enemy sellsword. You feared the moment when anxiety would overtake and the proud men would provoke each other. Just as that thought crossed your mind, like a curse, it became reality.
Before you could act, though, the young master leapt in between the two strung out soldiers. You admired his easy confidence. He knew his samurai would sooner commit seppuku than accidently hurt him.
He demanded they regain their tranquility, "a spooked horse remembers nothing of its training and will distance itself away from the herd. What good is a horse in a jungle of tigers? The horse will die alone." An arrow whizzed by his face and the whole squadron splintered in alarm.
Peace of heart regained, you all fought with renewed conviction.
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III. MANGETSU NO YORU. 満月の夜
Your daimyo's impeccable leadership brings you to indisputable victory. The past few months have been filled with battles, and not all those who embarked with you are making the journey home. A wagon carries the physical weight of their loss but as second in command, you take the blame in your stride.
You are grateful to live.
A celebration is called with enough wine to forget even the worst of trauma. There are rumors of geisha entertaining the upper officials. You pay these whispers no mind. The young lord had never been one for pleasures of the flesh. You long to reunite with your wife.
The Mouris spared no extravagance for this welcoming party, having stayed a guest in the Kudo castle for the duration of the war. With the young master's triumphant return, hopes again rouse for a marriage ceremony in the near future.
You look over the lands of your hometown. The sakura boughs are bare. You think, perhaps, spring will unite the two great families.
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The rumors of geisha are truth. A lavish carriage sits in the castle courtyard. The occupants are escorted into a private room to prepare for the evening.
You lead them in but don't dare to look at them too closely.
They smell of ylang ylang, sandalwood, and amber.
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Anticipation. The air is thick with it. As the men drink their fill, their merriment is dampened by two thoughts: their will to not disgrace themselves before their master and their will to not make fools of themselves before the graceful faces of desire.
You have no interest in the pleasure peddlers and take enjoyment in your wife who was given special permissions to come serve you that night. Refilling your cup of wine, she catches your eye with secret smile, alluding to the night you will share together once the restraint of the current propriety is lifted. Taking a sip, you are certain she can see the smile you return to her, even around the edge of the cup. Then, she falls back into the covert humbleness that she knows she must occupy, for now.
Appreciating the presence of your lady wife, you glance up at your lord, thankful for his thoughtfulness. He is seated at the center of the hall, facing the entryway, upon a raised mat, a symbol of his status. You wonder why he is alone. His bride to be, Lady Mouri is seated near the middle of the room, by her lord father, who seems to already be drinking in excess.
Perhaps because they are unmarried…
A loud guffaw takes your mind off the young princess. It is lieutenant Megure. He and the second lieutenant Shiratori are sharing stories of their respective journeys. They are seated across from one another and in front of the young master, a show of their rank. Though you are seated just behind Megure, you still feel intimidated by him.
I suppose one never forgets the man who trains them. You laugh privately. Miwako again begins to pour you more rice wine but you stop her. You're in the mood for tea now. She rises to prepare a fresh pot and you are thankful for her goodness.
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Just as night falls, the sound of a lone shamisen echoes through the courtyard. The room silences instantly. Two young boys enter the room, one short and lanky, his brother tall and round. They pull back the silk curtain meant for keeping out insects to reveal a maiko. She is playing the shakuhachi, a bamboo flute.
In between haunting interludes, she sings an introduction:
A goddess descended from the clouds
Incomparable beauty whom myst'ry shrouds
Reflecting triumph and calm, sorrow and balm
The moon maiden who fell, with her story to tell
Has come
You are mesmerized. The whole room is under such a deep trance that you wonder if geisha really are descendants of the gods. You wonder if they are demons with human flesh.
A number of geiko are entering the hall now, each pair more captivating than the next, with increasingly elaborate kimonos, and you know, instinctively, the one being introduced, has yet to appear.
You look back at your lord, looking for guidance. You've never witnessed such immaculate beauty and you don't know how you should act in their company. The young master seems unfazed by the new arrivals and it vindicates you.
You watch out of the corner of your eye as he lifts a cup to his mouth. It stops halfway and you look back to see what has him spellbound.
It is her.
A vision in red and white, she is the epitome of temptation and yet also untouchable purity. Most striking is the shade of her hair, golden with flecks of red he cannot tell are natural or reflections from the silk.
Her kimono is neither lined with gold or overtly complex, only covered in a simple maple pattern. Her extravagance lies in her own beauty, which she possesses in spades. You have noticed the rest of the geisha wear black in their ornaments but she, this divine creature, is obscured and tainted by nothing.
And she has eyes only for your young master. And he, her.
She walks in small deliberate steps, all graceful and evenly paced, never breaking eye contact. Pausing directly in the center of the hall, she waits for the other geisha to settle into their places around her and positions her shamisen.
Another note rings through the castle. You notice everyone sits up a little straighter. Lady Mouri is openly excited to see the geiko perform. It had been her idea to hire entertainment for the celebration. Her lord father is equally bewitched, for other reasons. You look back at the main table and see your lord looking intensely at the goddess.
You recognize a certain hunger in his eyes, one you'd previously only seen when the young master was out conquering new lands in the name of his father.
You realize you've never seen that hunger of his directed towards another person.
Your thoughts melt away the moment she begins to play. Her music is a honeypot, seizing the attention of the room's every occupant within a few strums. You vaguely register that the other geiko are moving to the sound of the music but you can't spare them even a single thought.
Then she begins to sing. You can barely tear your eyes away from the exquisite woman to look at how your lord reacts. Her song seems directed specifically at him, and you shift where you are seated, uncomfortable at the pull between them.
When your sight touched me, my soul alighted
Without looking away, she inclines her head down in something not quite a bow. The young master nods in acknowledgment.
My pride departed, my sins discarded
She spins to the side, still playing. Even though their gazes are no longer interlocked, you can feel the pull between their bodies.
Lady Mouri, you note, doesn't see what's happening before her very eyes.
All that was left of me were reflections of you
The beautiful woman does a dip and she reaches an arm out, like a vine reaching for the sun. Her movements are effortless; she dances with the grace of a cattail bending in the wind. Her leaves playfully dip into the water around her as she moves around, welcoming all the guests.
Heavens shook at their fate defied
Finally, finally, she approaches the young lord. She bends to kneel at his feet but he quickly takes her hand and stops her descent.
Even they, do not breathe for a moment. The contact makes them breathless.
He bades her continue. As she steps backward, their eyes are on each other and for the first time, Lady Mouri is regarding them both. You watch, entranced as the delight on her face fades to unease.
The tale of my love will spread far and wide
The melody takes a sharp turn and it is desperate now. Every chord pulls on you. The maiko from before is playing her flute again and the boys are drumming a relentless rhythm.
You can see her soul call out to him, and his in turn. You are afraid to see the consequences of this meeting. The princess remembers her place, remembers that there are people watching her. She tries to put back a pleasant smile but you can tell it is empty, nothing more than a vacant stretch of muscle.
All that was left to me were reflections of you
Suddenly, all the instruments stop and she delivers a final ethereal cadence but the notes carry across the room clearly, unwaveringly. You don't dare to breathe for fear of disturbing the air she has brought the compound.
For a moment, no one is sure what to do. No one moves; no one dares breathe.
Abruptly, the young master stands. Everyone scrambles to get up with him and someone upends a table. He is unfazed by the tumult, however, and you watch, engrossed, as he takes slow even steps to reach the yet unnamed girl.
He reaches into his kimono and takes out-
Surely not… Is he really..?
-a dagger, his dagger, which bears his family crest and is proof of his imminent succession to the domain. He places the dagger firmly between her hands and bends to whisper something for her ears only.
Like a man possessed, you stare as the princess turns her head away from the two.
Your young master straightens and says, "I will see you again, tomorrow." His words are directed to her but you know they are for the rest of the room as well.
He leaves the hall in astonished silence.
And peace surrenders into chaos.
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IV. YOHA. 余波
The young daimyo's aid is the first to recover. He moves quickly. He now has this new obligation to protect and serve the young and newly retired geisha, so his first steps take him across the room to her.
He has her halfway out the room, dagger tight in her palm, before Lord Mouri, over his drunken haze, figures out what had just occurred. They hear his rage as they race down the corridors.
The clash of katana rings through the night: Lord Megure and Lord Mouri have taken up arms.
Some servants are screaming and the geiko are rushing out into the courtyard in a flurry of panicked silks, the children right on their heels.
Lord Mouri quickly gives in and, disgraced daughter in tow, they leave the castle with ominous vows swearing to be back, on his family's honor.
All those present, swear that they'd never seen such a bright moon. It was as if the heavens were intently watching the night's events unfold and willed to see them clearly.
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Takagi brings the girl to the place he thinks safest: the new wing, ironically, since it was built for the very people he was trying to keep her safe from. She pants, not used to the physical exertion.
The man looks at his self-appointed charge in dumbfoundment. He is astounded how she could change all of their lives with a single song and dance. He thinks of the war they just waged. He thinks of the war soon to come and grimaces.
The daimyo's retainer turns to leave the room, intending on guarding it from the outside when a dulcet voice questions him.
"Why would he go this far for an excuse to sever his engagement? Am I merely a means to serve some end? Had he no other way? No better path?" She doesn't really believe her own words. The pull between them there in that room earlier was predestined by the gods above.
She saw him and she knew.
"My Lord is a man of honour. He would do no such thing." Takagi bristles at the thought. "Do you even understand what that dagger symbolizes?"
She narrows her eyes, angered at his implication, as he belatedly realizes his position relative to her newfound one. The aide clams up, apologizing immediately.
The now-retired geisha doesn't answer his plea for pardon but nevertheless replies to his previous question, tracing the intricate maki-e lines of the dagger's sheath all the while.
"The gift of a dagger which bears the family crest is a symbol of the presenter's intent to wed the recipient."
"That makes you my new priority. Stay in this room. I'll guard the entrance."
"What if I don't want it."
Time stops while the aide and the heavens themselves process her words.
Takagi splutters, outraged, "y-yo-you don't w-... That's ridicu- of course you want-"
Her glare aims to silence him but only helps him further gather his thoughts. "You do not wish to be wed to the future shogun of Tokyo?"
The woman remains silent.
He rubs at his temple with the sleeve of his kimono. He never considered this, and couldn't even guess what the ramifications of Lord Mouri's rage would be when he finds out his princess was refused for a girl who rejected the daimyo. Resignedly, he lists, "if you were to be so bold as to refuse the daimyo, we would sneak you out of the castle and hide you. You would never be a Geisha again but the daimyo would provide for you."
She considers this offering.
She puts the dagger into her kimono, over her heart.
Takagi, satisfied with her response, turns, ready to leave again. She stops him once more.
"What is your name, samurai?" He turns back towards her and kneels at her feet.
"I am called Takagi Wataru, my lady. My life and sword are yours, from this day forth."
And he stations himself outside.
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Kudo Shinichi visits her the next day, with high spirits and expectation. She bows as he enters and before he can bid her to straighten herself up, she speaks.
"This one is undeserving of such profligacy." The young lord notices the masterful way in which she berates him for his reckless extravagance while seeming to humble herself. He replies in turn.
"Human mouths have no harness, but there are times it must be worn..." He hopes she understands that she will not be able to speak so freely once others are present. He continues. "Nevertheless, even a sandalwood tree needs to age so that it may give its fragrance."
She lifts her head, a smirk in her smile. "A horse's speed has no gain on your wit, Lord Kudo."
Kudo gestures for her to sit and calls for a servant to bring them tea.
"War is decided not by the sword..."
"As the mind of the warrior must be sharper than his blade." She finishes his sentence and he is pleased by her cleverness.
"Will you not give this man your name, betrothèd?"
Endlessly amused by his phrasing, she answers, "This lowly one's name is Shiho. Shi for determination and will. Ho using the character for keep." She has a coy smile on her painted lips.
The young lord hums in approval and the two turn to their tea and watch the sky as a cloud overtakes the sun.
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Fall changes to winter and winter to spring, yet still, they meet no disturbance from the Mouris. The fated pair are free to learn one another and bask in each other's company. He admires her perceptiveness and her intellect. She is the only person who can keep up with his logic and reasoning.
She likes that she is allowed to do as she pleases, his carefree nature easily following alongside her caprice. She plays and dances for him when he requests it of her. He teaches her the art of warmaking when she requests it of him. She is a very quick study.
They marry on a cloudy spring morning. She easily succumbs to heat and he prefers the coolness that accompanies the afternoon rain.
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They are taking their midday meal when Takagi Wataru interrupts them with urgent news.
"My lord, my lady, I apologize for the intrusion but I bring news that cannot wait." The two share a grim glance and Kudo commands him to continue.
"A crowd of villagers have gathered outside the castle gates. They... they're..." he falters, glancing at Lady Shiho.
"Speak freely, Takagi. I will take no offense at your message."
"They gather to protest my Lord and Lady's marriage. They believe her to be the product of an unholy union between a human and a d-demon. They think she's-"
"They believe her to be a hanyou. Youkai spawn." Kudo rises, katana in hand, intent on defending the honor of his bride.
"Don't, my lord" The address is an afterthought, hastily added because of the presence of the aide.
"I am honor and duty-bound to you."
"You have a duty to your people, my lord."
They share an indecipherable look. He sighs and sheaths his katana.
"What worth has a warrior before whom beauty does not falter?"
She lifts an eyebrow, challenging him. "What worth has beauty before which a warrior does not surrender?"
He laughs, freely.
Takagi interjects, hesitant. "What would you have us do, milord?"
She answers for him. "Call a demon slayer."
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War is upon them.
Mouri Kogoro has finally declared war on the Beika daimyo. His soldiers are on the the other side of the mountain and a dark fear has spread through the villages. The people no longer believe in their daimyo. It is said that he has fallen under the spell of a half-demon enchantress.
In their marriage bed, she whispers her fears to him, begs to him that they flee.
An incomplete meeting is merely a promise to meet again.
He speaks the truth, she knows, but there is such a difference between the men's battle experience; she cannot help but worry.
"You are but a breeze in the wind."
"If he can stop a wind, then I shall become a storm."
"If he can calm the storm?"
"Then I shall be a monsoon, bringing wind and flood. I promise, we shall see this war through." His words are bold but she sees the worry in the crease of his brow, in the line of his shoulders.
She grips the dagger he gifted her not even five moons ago and sleeps uneasy.
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Steel clashes against steel as she watches her lord fight for their lives. Shiho holds the dagger, willing for it to give her direction; she wants to help, but her knees quake and her hands are clumsy.
Mouri's samurai guard the room; there is no escape. This is their fates' deciding moment. She clasps the dagger in her hands until her fingers numb and prays.
Kami-sama!
Kudo and Mouri run at each other once again and she winces. Turning away to find anything that would help the situation, her eyes catch glimpse of their most trusted aid lying on the mat just by the entrance, slain.
She remembers his last words to them.
This humble swordsman, this Takagi Wataru, is proud to have served under you, Lord Kudo, Lady Shiho. It is the greatest honor to be allowed to fight at your side. I will protect you both until my dying breath.
She laments over his death. She knows he was a good and loyal man… who died because of her. The red-haired girl wouldn't allow any more loss on her behalf.
"Lord Mouri," she stands, beseeching. "What will it take for you to end this meaningless violence? You divide the united lands. You threaten the people you swore to lead and protect. What will mollify you? My life?"
Kudo leaps in front of her, crying, "I forbid it! No!"
She looks at Mouri from behind Kudo. Mouri laughs, spiteful. "There is no price for the honor of my daughter, demon."
The young master of the land pushes his new bride away and Mouri lunged towards them.
"Run!" He bids her, not having the time or energy to spare her more words. She merely backs away, uncertain, but refuses to leave her lord husband.
Every exchange of swords speaks of death, every divergence, hope for tomorrow. The tide of battle turns in Kudo's favor, provoking a bull-headed soldier to charge towards him, unnoticed .
She sees the movement. A glint of silver.
She moves without thinking.
And the sword pierces her through.
Mouri cuts down Kudo while he is distracted by her cry.
And they fall.
With the last of his strength he crawls over to her.
"I had wished... so much more for y-you." His breath stutters as they both lose too much blood.
She gives him one last knowing smile.
"O-our hearts... beat together... from the moment we met… and-"
"And they shall s-stop... together... as well-"
"As it was… predestined… by the gods..."
And they are gone to the world.
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Mouri Ran sits at a pond in her ancestral home and ponders the last half year. The war had caused so much destruction and loss. She couldn't understand how the previous daimyo could have not considered his people when he chose the performer over her.
She thinks, bitterly, when love is in excess, it brings a man no honor nor worthiness. She would have abided by her duty and married the man who would protect their new domain. She would never have allowed him to put one life above so many.
In the privacy of her deepest thoughts though, she wishes, desperately, to one day have the kind of predestined love the great daimyo and geisha had shared.
Word count: 5256