FATE'S RED STRING

Chapter 1

A Priestess Named Mariko

- o - 0 - o -

When the world was young and the Empire was yet to be born, two Kwami - a Goddess and a God - lived in harmony. The Goddess was blessed with eternal fortune and possessed the power of creation. Her other half, the God, was the embodiment of destruction and regaled in his ability to provoke misfortune. Two sides of a coin, the Goddess and God were complete opposites, yet love bloomed between their hearts. Soon, their matrimony bequeathed the world with both light and shadow, both order and chaos, both blessing and curse.

The union of the Goddess and the God brought about the birth of five siblings, gods and goddesses in their own right. These five Kwami became their divine parents' most faithful protectors. In their advent to the world, they brought fire, water, earth, wood and metal and the knowledge of using these elements to bring about both creation and destruction.

In time, twelve more Kwami were born. These younger deities possess far lesser abilities than their five elder siblings, but they were still powerful and immortal. These twelve gods and goddesses descended into the earth and mingled with the humans, giving them wisdom, culture and piety. Soon, the mortals prospered under the care of the Kwami, leading to the conception of the Twelve Clans of Juuni.

However, as years passed, the mortals have grown arrogant and their worshipped Kwami, the more so. What once were siblings unified by love and temperance were consumed by hatred and envy at each other. A fruitless war was waged amongst the Twelve Clans – a war so devastating that it led the world to the brink of destruction.

To prevent her beloved world from succumbing to its inevitable end, the Goddess sacrificed herself to heal the land. Furious at the loss of his beloved, the God turned his wrath on the conniving mortals, who corrupted his sons and daughters to fight against each other. His righteous fury shook the world and destruction like no other followed his every footstep. Knowing it was not what their mother would have wanted, the five firstborn Kwami gathered together and combined their powers to defeat and seal their Father, putting him in an eternal slumber.

In order to restore the balance of the world, the Five Saviors decided to exist in a higher plane, away from the reach of mortals. But their twelve younger siblings were punished for their transgressions, their essences trapped into artifacts, to become unwilling servants to anyone who possesses it. Once they were gods and goddesses worshipped by humankind, now they were bound to serve the mortals for all eternity. Knowing that this tragedy cannot happen once more, the five Kwami bestowed upon a select few the ability to communicate with them, so they might guide the humans into an age of peace and prosperity.

Humbled by the consequences of their greed but enlightened by the promises of the Kwami, the Twelve Clans decided to look beyond their differences and learn to coexist. And though it took decades and centuries, all the clans were unified under one Empire of Juuni.

- o - 0 - o -

Finishing the passage, Mariko closed the book, smiling gently at the entranced looks of the young children gathered around her. She giggled as the little tots finally realized that the story had already ended, with their scrunched-up yet eager-looking faces.

"Is that all, miko-sama?" One brave boy made his opinion known.

"Unfortunately, that is all the time I have for today," said Mariko a little sadly. She would have liked to read a few more stories to the children, but she had her duties to attend to. Mariko was a miko, a priestess serving the Kwami, the gods and goddesses that walked the earth. She wore the traditional attire of the miko - a long red, slightly pleated skirt tied with a bow and a white kimono jacket known as a haori. Her black-bluish hair was straight and shoulder-length and Mariko had it tied into two small pigtails with a pair of red ribbons. Her sky-colored eyes regarded the children, who were a bit put out that the petite priestess had to go soon. Mariko figured she still had a few minutes to herself though. "I do have some time to answer a few of your questions, if you'd like."

There was an excited babble as a girl raised an arm. "What happened to the Five Saviors? What does 'exist in a higher plane' mean? Aren't there Kwami around us?"

Mariko clasped both of her hands, delighted to hear quite the intelligent question. "Yes, the Kwami are everywhere," she stated, catching a glimpse of a very peculiar bluebird perched near them. Instead of azure feathers, it had a rainbow-colored plumage, changing colors every moment or so. Some of the children wondered why she stopped and followed her gaze, but Mariko knew they would find nothing.

"But the Five Saviors are the most powerful Kwami," continued Mariko and the kids' rapt attention were on her once more. "Since they were too powerful for this world, they decided to live somewhere far away, a place that us humans would not be able to go to." She allowed this to sink in, watching the children's amazed expressions. "However, even though they are so far away, we can still communicate with them and listen to their guidance. That is what the miko and the Temple is for."

There was a chorus of ooh's and aah's as the children looked at the majestic square spread out around them. The whole complex was enclosed by a large stone wall, adorned by a gently curving wooden roof and ornamental lamps. On the two entrances facing north and south, a huge torii can be seen – a large gate propped by two circular poles and topped by a pair of two slightly curved wooden planks. Inside the perimeter, trees and shrubs dotted the place, with sparse decorations in the form of mossy rocks, small sculptures of animals and stone lanterns built along the approach. In the east and west were a line of wooden buildings, used as the living space of the priests and priestesses who maintained the sacred grounds. The most striking structure was in the center of it all, a huge five-storied pagoda that housed the altar to the Kwami and where the many ceremonies had always been traditionally made. Mariko and the children were a little to the right of the pagoda, on a small garden under a huge sakura tree, which had recently bloomed and occasionally showered them in a rain of pink petals.

Mariko could not blame the children for looking so excitedly around them. This particular complex was the largest in the Empire, built in honor for the first Tamayori-Hime centuries ago. It was not a mistake to say that the temple was the town itself, as most of the residents were employed by it somehow. Aside from the majestic holy site in the middle, the rest of the town included a few residential homes near the river, a small square that doubles as a market and a plaza and a wide expanse of farm lands. The town was even named Inori-Machi, literally the city for prayer. Naturally, it was a place for pilgrims and all manner of people seeking enlightenment. And while their parents were busy seeking guidance with the shinsoku – the male equivalent of the miko, whose duties resolve in preaching the words of the Kwami – Mariko took it upon herself to entertain the children they brought with them.

"Mariko~" The sing-song chant of her name made the young priestess turn her head, watching as a woman a few years older dash towards her. The new arrival wore the same attire as Mariko, as so did the rest of the priestesses that lived in the Temple, young and old. Her long chocolate-colored hair was tied in a bun, kept in place by a red ribbon. She soon arrived at the garden, looking dubiously at the gathered children before politely addressing her quarry. "Mariko-sama. Sayako-sama would like to speak with you in her room immediately."

"Thank you, Io-san." Mariko bid farewell to the children and followed Io, who was hobbling in a stiff posture as they went. The rainbow-colored bird flew and perched on her shoulder, prompting the young priestess to rub its head. "You really didn't have to be so polite in front of the children, Io."

Io's more familiar, more relaxed way of speaking returned. "I dunno. One of those brats might be the child of some kind of noble or aristocrat and I really don't want to risk another scolding about being 'unrefined and barbaric'. It's not like everyone was born a proper lady, you know!"

"True," said Mariko with a giggle. "Not everyone was born with the aptitude to the Gods too, you know."

Io had a childish, proud grin on her face as she looked at the strange bird perched on her friend's shoulder, one of the few who could actually discern the Kwami. "Right you are. But I really don't want to lose my job, affinity to the supernatural notwithstanding." She then turned to Mariko with an excited look. "So, how about hitting the town square with me tonight? The end of the Toshigo-no-Matsuri is near and I heard there's a really good entertainment troupe in town."

The Toshigo-no-Matsuri was a festival held in spring, signaling the start of the planting season. Its main purpose was to attract the Kwami affiliated with the elements of earth and wood and convince them to stay to bring about a good harvest when autumn rolls in. So far, they were succeeding, with the little Kwami on Mariko a good indication. Still, the town's festivities were more of a religious ceremony than a full-blown party, so a troupe coming into town was an oddity. "A troupe?"

"Yes, it was a fairly popular one too, last I heard. They say it features a rather handsome dancer."

Mariko raised an eyebrow at this. The bird on her shoulder flew away while she spoke in an unbelieving tone. "A male dancer?"

There was a twinkling gleam in Io's eyes as she gazed at the soaring bird. "Intriguing, isn't i?"

"Didn't you just say you don't want to lose your job?" Mariko teased.

"As long as I don't appear on the square in my miko garb, I'll be fine." As someone who was never caught sneaking out the temple to have fun, Mariko knew that Io had the confidence to back the statement up. "And I've also heard that there's a travelling merchant selling these wonderful swathes of fabric made of wool and silk from the Yáng Clan."

Mariko tried not to let her excitement show on her face, but she wasn't fooling anyone. "R-really now?"

"Yes, really!" Io's grin was nothing short of mischievous, knowing she had the younger girl's undivided attention now. "There were a few more stalls with interesting merchandise, too. Sandals made by the wood-smiths from the Tù Clan, a merchant from the Shé Clan selling some kind of perfume, then there's this Niú Clan blacksmith that once made a really fascinating hair pin for a visiting noble."

Mariko swallowed hard. As a miko, she was raised to not put any value on material possessions. However, even as a young girl, she found that clothes fascinated her. The lavish furisode worn by unmarried women of the nobility, the elegant ivory-colored uchikake worn by the bride during weddings, the simple but refreshing yukata worn when the summer sun was too strong, even the simple yet comfortable clothes worn by the farmers in town. After learning how to sew from a priest's wife that also taught her housework, she suddenly found herself breathing life to a dozen pieces of clothing. Clothing that unfortunately, she would not be able to wear at all. Still, she couldn't stop making more, even though she'd usually gave it all away rather than leave it rotting inside a trunk. "I really wish I could pay a visit…"

"What's keeping you from going?"

Mariko stared at her friend with a little contempt in her gaze. "I don't want to sound self-important, but I'm not exactly easy to forget, you know."

"Ah, right, the ladybug earrings." Mariko saw Io look at the studs on her ears with what could be an expression of slight distaste. "I always forget how you're next in line to be the Tamayori-Hime."

"That makes the two of us." Mariko sighed. The Tamayori-Hime is the most esteemed priestess in the Empire. She was the bride of the Kwami, the gods and goddesses themselves. As the mouthpiece of the divine, she communicates with the deities on the top of the pantheon, the Five Saviors from the legend she just narrated to the children. Just six months ago, Mariko was informed that she had been chosen by the Kwami to be the next Tamayori-Hime. It came as a shock and she was still reeling when she was suddenly whisked away to the Miyako, the Empire's capital. There, the current Tamayori-Hime, a thin and sweet woman with graying hair, explained her – their – sacred duty. Still, it was too huge of a responsibility for an eighteen-year old girl. "I'm still not sure if I'm the right person for the job."

"Nonsense, you'd be perfect!" Io then changed tone as she saw Mariko's clouded expression. "Not that I wanted you to have the job. A life of solitude, dedicating your every minute to helping the Empire, not to mention the prayers and rites you'd have to do…"

"It's not as bad as it sounds." Mariko tried to be cheerful and positive about it, but she couldn't really convince anyone. "I mean, it's a great honor…"

"Mariko," said Io with all seriousness on her amber-colored eyes, putting a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "You've been working in this Temple since you could learn to walk and talk. And then you're gonna be spending the rest of your life doing the same. Live a little, join me in the square tonight."

Mariko was still skeptical with the whole idea. Now that she was picked to follow the Tamayori-Hime's footsteps, she had a bit of leeway with the elder miko and the shinsoku. Still, the ruby earrings on her ears made her recognizable to virtually anyone – it was the universal symbol of the Goddess, the mother of all the Kwami and consequently, the Tamayori-Hime. Even the common peasant knew that only the high priestess and her protégé can adorn the mystic implement. Worse, everyone in town knew her – it was a small town after all. And the visitors hardly waste a second getting to know her, the nobility the more so. Mariko couldn't really have fun with everyone breathing on her neck – the earrings would make her very conspicuous. But what if…

Io regarded Mariko's tight-lipped expression with amusement. "I can almost hear the gears on your head turning…"

"Shush, I'm trying to think."

"Well, think fast, Mina-sama is fast approaching."

Mariko abruptly stopped as a tall and stern-looking woman in miko garb caught her attention. Her deep blue eyes turned into slits as she regarded the young miko before her. Her dark purple hair almost stood at the ends, looking as sharp and pointy as her chin and her personality. "Mariko-san. I'd advise you from showing such an unrefined expression while at the Temple."

Mariko quickly adopted a calm and serene look. "I apologize, Mina-sama. It would not happen again."

"I hope not, for everyone's sake," intoned the elder miko. "What would the Empire think of the Tamayori-Hime then?"

And with her speech finished, Mina trotted off in a self-important manner, unaware of the angry glare Io was directing at her retreating back. "You know what? I think the Empire would be glad to have a Tamayori-Hime that's able to think for herself."

"Let it go, Io," said Mariko with a sigh. "Sayako-sama had warned me that there would be um, difficulties, with appointing an eighteen year old to be the most powerful priestess in the Empire."

"Well, it's not your fault that the Kwami chose you instead of a self-important hag."

"Lower your voice down!" Mariko looked around them, glad that no one seemed to be listening. "I'd like to keep you here, if that's okay. I'd go crazy otherwise."

"Well, you can always accompany me to the square tonight." Typical Io, she never backed down whenever an idea gets into her head. "You'd be less crazy afterwards."

"Fine," said Mariko, finally relenting. She really needed to release some pent-up stress. The last six months had been a grueling mix of lessons, prayers and more lessons. She needed something to distract her and that would be probably in the form of a new sewing project. "As long as you agree to stop by the flea market first."

"Of course," agreed Io, eager to finally have Mariko's company in her short trip to check out the festival. "But we're not gonna miss the famous ikemen dancer, alright?"

"Fine." Mariko wouldn't deny the fact that she was curious about the man. She wasn't really picky with men, but she was never interested in romance in the first place. Of course, the teachings of the miko also prohibited unnecessary contact with the opposite sex, with the only exceptions being the shinsoku and if she marries, her husband. Still, Mariko was never in the lookout for potential husbands; she was far too busy keeping up with her duties and her sewing hobby. And seeing she was the next Tamayori-Hime, her chances of finding a husband had gone slimmer. Even a shinsoku wouldn't marry a woman whose every waking moment was dedicated to the Kwami.

Io's voice cut Mariko off from her depressing thoughts. "We really don't want to keep Sayako-sama waiting though. Let's go and see what she wants with you."

Mariko nodded. As much as she wanted to be a normal girl who can sew and wear all the clothes she wanted, who can ask for a ritual instead of actually doing it and who can fantasize about finding the man at the other end of the red thread, she knew she couldn't abandon her duty. Her destiny was nothing ideal, but it could be a lot worse. She really shouldn't ask for anything more.

- o - 0 - o -

"The Tamayori-Hime…" Mariko's voice faltered as she spoke the news out loud. "Is dead?"

Sayako, the chief miko of the Inori-Machi temple, nodded at the younger girl's distraught look. Dressed in the same traditional miko garb as Mariko, she had a stout, slightly chubby figure. Her short, bobbed dark hair was adorned by a beautiful gold-laced kanzashi decorated by pink carnations – the symbol of her status as the leader. She had a kind and pleasant round face, but right now there was no hint of a smile on her mouth. Her gray eyes focused on Mariko, gauging her expression. "Yes, she succumbed to her sickness a few days ago."

"But…" Mariko couldn't still wrap her head over the sudden news. Her voice was louder and higher than it should be, but the two of them were alone inside the head priestess' soundproofed room – a result of the fortifications on the wall, which was a precaution against any attack on the Temple. "She wasn't that ill from what we heard a month ago!"

"Yes, this is all baffling," agreed Sayako in a cautious tone. It was as if she had some suspicions, but knew better than to voice them out. "But the messenger came straight from the Imperial Majesty the Emperor himself. I'm afraid it is the truth."

Mariko couldn't believe it, but there was no forgery in the Emperor's seal that came with the letter the messenger turned over.

"And owing to the mysterious circumstances surrounding her death," continued Sayako, looking more despondent with every passing moment. "No one else has to know about her passing."

Mariko raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing. She expected the next few words, but it didn't make the entire thing more bearable.

"Because of this, we need to have a new Tamayori-Hime acting as a proxy until the Emperor deems it acceptable to inform the whole Empire. And in order to that…" Sayako looked hesitant to say it, but there was really no other alternative. "We need you to complete the Rite of Ascension as soon as possible."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Mariko closed her eyes to refocus her thoughts, while the head priestess patiently waited for her reply. Ever since she lost her parents at young age, the priests and priestesses of the Inori-Machi Temple had been her family. They treated her with care, fed her and gave her clothes when most people would have turned her away. When she showed the ability to discern the voices and the appearance of the Kwami, she was secretly happy, since she could repay the Temple by serving as a miko. But as the years passed by, she found herself restless, wondering if being a priestess was her true calling. It was foolish, since it was the only thing she ever knew since childhood. She can sew clothes and she learned some basic martial arts, but ultimately the one thing she was confident about was her ability to communicate with the Kwami. She had always been a sensitive girl, more than what was expected of someone with the potential to become a miko. Mariko felt like it was a gift wasted on her, that she had to become an amazing person befitting of such a blessing. People call her lucky, that she is set for life with nothing to fear, but she begged to differ. Now the role of the Tamayori-Hime was suddenly being thrust into her unwilling arms. "I…"

Mariko looked up at the chief priestess with tear-stained eyes, wondering when and how it got so watery. "I…"

"It is alright, dear…" Sayako surprised the young woman by covering her in a tight embrace. "We don't have to do it right away." She paused as she breathed in and out, gently rubbing the girl's back. "There's no need to be so strong, Mariko. Sometimes, it is okay to let your feelings out."

The dam broke as Mariko kept her arms on the woman. "I… I d-didn't want to become the Tamayori-Hime…"

"I know…"

"I just wanted to be a normal girl…"

Sayako sighed once more, but said nothing.

"Why can't the Kwami chose someone else?"

"Mariko, you're being unreasonable and you know it." Sayako gently scolded. "We can never fathom the ways of the Kwami. But things happen for a reason. You are chosen for a reason."

Mariko looked up, her cheeks stained with tears. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so." Sayako gave her a warm mother-like smile. "The moment you were brought to the Temple, I knew you'd be destined for great things."

Mariko's eyes widened at her statement. "You do?"

"Yes. I never told you, but even as a babe, the Kwami were protecting you."

"I see." Mariko smiled a little at the thought.

Sayako shifted, trying not to look guilty. She didn't lie; she just didn't tell her the whole truth. There was no need to tell the young girl that a small ladybug was perched on her shoulder that fateful day she lost her entire family. Mariko was a clever girl - she will instantly know which specific Kwami had been protecting her all this time. This was a burden she didn't need to carry. Yet.

When Mariko spoke once more, it was tone full of dignity and determination. "I just need to steel myself, Sayako-sama. It will be difficult, it will take some time for me to get accustomed to, but I promise to do my best as the Tamayori-Hime."

Sayako smiled fondly at the girl. Mariko never failed to amaze her with her resolute will and her compassionate heart. She can be a crying and clumsy mess sometimes, but she always stood back up all the time. She will become a worthy Tamayori-Hime when the time comes.

Now if only, that time wasn't just a few days away. Sayako sighed once more; there was so much to do.

"Sayako-sama?"

"We will begin preparations for the Rite of Ascension," Sayako told her, trying to ignore how the young miko flinched at the thought. "We have no choice, given it's a decree from his Imperial Majesty. I can at least spare you three days, Mariko."

Three days until her freedom ends, thought Mariko. But there was no running away and she knew she could never do that to the Temple.

"I take it that you have already read the documents regarding the Rite?"

Mariko nodded, earning an approved look from the chief priestess. "I will help out in the preparations," she volunteered.

"No, you will not," said Sayako in a stern tone. Then, surprising Mariko, a wide grin appeared on her face. "You may enjoy the night with Io in the town square."

Mariko could not hide the look of surprise on her face. "H-how did you know about that?"

Sayako's expression was unreadable, but there was a teasing glint on her eyes. "What kind of chief miko am I if I don't know everything that's going on inside my Temple?"

Mariko saw a disturbance in the corner of her eye – the carnation in Sayako's headdress moving as if caressed by the wind, but the young priestess knew that the door and the windows were closed. She had a clue on how Sayako seemed to know the conversation she had with Io just a few minutes ago, but she excused herself and did not utter a word about it. Nor would she utter a word about it to Io, who was still blissfully ignorant that her escapades may not be the little secrets she assumed they were.

As for her, Mariko had the chief priestess' permission – might as well seize the opportunity. After all, three days can be a very short time.

- o - 0 - o -

"Wow girl, I knew you had a plan but I didn't think it was this!"

Mariko had to keep an effort not to laugh at Io's dumbfounded expression. Once she got back to her room after Sayako-sama told her to enjoy the night, she decided to do just that. So, she found the most gorgeous kimono she made – a red thing adorned by a pattern of black swirls that resembled vines – and propped up her hair into a careful bun, using a beautiful lotus-flower hair pin that she bought from the neighboring town's winter fair. She took out her ladybug earrings but left her ears bare; for some reason, she didn't want to wear any accessories. Finally, she spent the rest of the afternoon making an ornate wooden mask, painting it with the same colors as her dress. She got a flash of inspiration and came up with a mask that reminded her of a ladybug. Putting it on her face, she was elated to know that she was virtually unrecognizable. And with the cover of the night, no one would even know that the future Tamayori-Hime was traipsing along the town square without a care in the world.

And with the mask on, Mariko felt like she could be a different person. "What can I say? It's been too long since I've been out."

"If I'd known, I would have picked a better look for the night."

Mariko stared at the other girl dubiously. Io was dressed in an impressive green kimono with white sakura flower patterns. She looked so mature with her hair fashioned in a stylish side-ponytail. Clearly, Mariko wasn't the only one trying to make an impression. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're waiting to be picked up by a certain ikemen."

Io's jaw dropped. "Did I just hear the docile and uptight Mariko-sama insinuate that I wish to be laid for the night?"

Mariko blushed pink. "Maybe, maybe not?"

"Because you might be up to something there!" squealed Io, bumping her hips at the other girl.

Mariko laughed, but it was bit strained. "I do hope you're not planning to do the deed with a random man, no matter how handsome you think he is."

"I'm unrefined and barbaric but not stupid." Io waved her concerns with a hand. "A miko must not let an indecent man touch her."

Mariko snorted. "You look nothing like a miko right now."

"The pot calling the kettle black," quipped Io sarcastically. Then, she grew a little serious as she pointedly looked at her friend. "Why the sudden change in attire though? Is there something wrong?"

Io was being rarely perceptive for once. But Mariko knew that the news she received from Sayako-sama had to be kept secret. "It's nothing. I just wanted to enjoy a little."

"Enjoy my company? Or enjoy all the staring?"

Mariko blinked, wondering what Io meant. But the brunette was giving meaningful glances behind her, so Mariko turned to see what was distracting her. She met the eyes of a dozen men, who were blatantly staring at her. Once caught, they guiltily shifted their gaze, some even looking embarrassed enough they had to walk away.

Io's guffaw made Mariko turn her head back to her. "You do know you're making an impressive sight, right?"

Mariko's cheeks a scarlet red. Now that she think about it, her kimono was a really tight fit, accentuating her slim figure. And putting her hair up meant that the back of her neck was exposed. And what about the mask? It was definitely why so many people kept on noticing and glancing at her. She clearly did not think this through. "W-what do I do, Io?"

"Nothing," said Io with finality. "Wait for them to come to you. And if you fancy someone, then go for it!"

"What? But I'm a miko, Io."

Io gave her a wide grin. "Not tonight."

"But-"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," said Io. "Just have fun! And if a man tries to get his way with you, give him a good beating. I sparred with you too many times to know that you can take care of yourself."

True, their self-defense lessons in the Temple always ended up with Io raising the white flag. But the brunette just didn't want to study, even if it was something as practical as cooking.

"Now, let's go find that fabric stall," stated Io and Mariko did not even bother hiding the little twinkling stars on her eyes. "And then we can see the ikemen. I hope he's worth all the trouble of sneaking out the Temple."

- o - 0 - o -

The evening had gone wonderfully well for Mariko. The Yáng Clan fabrics were a sight to behold, definitely made from the wool of the sheep they raised in the grassy hills that the Clan called their home. The Yáng was one of the Twelve Clans of Juuni and although most people are mixed now – with the intermarrying and all – a few towns in the far regions of the Empire were exclusively inhabited by pure members of the Clan. There were no major differences in ethnicity and culture between the Clans, barring the Kwami they majorly worship. Even though these were one of the twelve Kwami that was punished, the Clans took it upon themselves to preserve their legends and memories. After all, these gods and goddesses have once led their ancestors to prosperity.

Needless to say, Mariko had bought a lot of the fine fabrics, including the more expensive silk ones, since she would be unable to normally get hold of it. The hillside which the Yáng called their home was at least a three days' journey away. She was really lucky that a merchant from the Clan came to visit the town. Mariko and Io continued to tour around the plaza, even finding those other stalls Io mentioned. Aside from at least half-a-dozen swathes of fabric and many spools of thread, Mariko purchased a pair of new sandals, some tasty treats and an ornate silver six-inch single-bladed dagger known as a kaiken. Io suspiciously eyed the weapon and Mariko countered that it was such a beautiful thing and she got a good bargain. Io's mention of martial arts reminded Mariko that her old blade was getting rusty and though being able to fight well was not one of the requisites of the Tamayori-Hime, she enjoyed being able to move her body the way she want it to.

With her money bag lightened, Mariko would have been content to call it a night. But Io was adamant at seeing the talked-about entertainment troupe and Mariko did not have the heart to leave her alone. So she found herself sitting beside her in the middle of the square. A crowd had already gathered, forming a large circle around a bonfire. A couple of instruments had been laid out to the left – a rather large twenty-five-stringed koto, a set of small drums she knew was a shime-daiko and a flute that was maybe a shinobue – probably going to be used by the troupe. A small wagon was parked near it, with the sign "The Miraculous Quartet." Mariko was amused by it – for such a popular group their name was so simple and lacking.

Soon, a tall chocolate-skinned lady leaped out of the wagon, twisting in mid-air and landing nimbly on the ground. She was a well-endowed young woman and she seemed to bank on it, wearing a rather skimpy short-sleeved orange kimono. Her auburn hair was fashioned into intricate curls and her kanzashi reminded Mariko of a tiger lily. The crowd clapped and cheered as the woman opened her mouth to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, people of the lovely town of Inori-Machi! Welcome to an evening of excitement, flair and glamour! My name is Aria and I will be your lovely host for tonight!"

There were wolf whistles and general hooting from the men as Aria gave the crowd a sly and conspiratorial wink. "First off, let me introduce our amazing musician, who will be doing most of the accompaniments tonight. The man with the many instruments, Kunio!"

The man named Kunio emerged from the wagon, wearing a blue happi and gray hakama. Mariko was surprised to see that he was also young, probably nineteen or twenty at most. His skin was darker than those of Aria's, prompting Mariko to wonder exactly where they came from. Maybe from the eastern regions, near the Endless Desert. Kunio had a big grin as he waved at the audience, taking his place near the koto and the shime-daiko.

"Without further adieu, let's call on our first act for tonight," proclaimed Aria. "The elegant beauty that can sting like a bee, Kiku!"

Aria extended her hand to a young woman dressed in a very intricate golden kimono. Mariko was fascinated at the long, trailing sleeves of the clothing and the curious black obi wrapped around her waist. She was slim with slightly tanned skin, a lithe figure compared to Aria's rather thick body and legs. Her long honey-colored hair was tied in a ponytail, held into place by a comb. Her deep blue eyes gazed at the crowd with some contempt - a deep contrast to her more cheerful co-worker. Mariko decided she didn't like her too much, but Kiku carried herself in a refined manner that reminded the miko of the aristocrats.

And then suddenly, the music started. Kunio played the koto and a lovely, serene melody echoed throughout the place. It felt to Mariko like a gentle spring breeze, making sakura flowers dance in the air. Reaching out her right hand, Kiku started to dance.

Mariko could not keep her eyes off the dancing girl. She stood in place at first, twirling her hands in the air to the music's gentle pace. Then she started stepping back and forth, all the while gracefully moving her arms and hands like ripples in the water. The beat then started to go faster and the dancer kept pace, now moving around, extending her hands to the entranced crowd. Mariko heard some pounding and realized that aside from the koto, Kunio was already playing the drums, dividing his hands on the two instruments. Mariko was impressed; man of many instruments indeed.

Kiku finished her routine to a loud applause. There was a haughty little smile on her face, as if she expected nothing else but appreciation for her perfect dance. Mariko was a little put out by her attitude, but she had to give credit where credit is due. The dance was not that complicated, but the blonde executed it with the grace of a yamato nadeshiko.

Kiku's act was followed by Aria playing the flute while doing an acrobatic flip here and there, with the accompaniment of a fast-paced beating of the drums from Kunio. Kiku then returned, dancing with a pair of fans to a folk song played by both Aria and Kunio. Though every performance blew her mind, there was something nagging at the back of Mariko's mind.

Io voiced out the exact thing she was trying to grasp. "Where's the dancing ikemen?"

Right, the supposedly handsome dancer. Well, the young man named Kunio was pleasant-looking, but he can't be the dancer since he was absorbed in playing two instruments at one time. "Maybe they're saving him for last?"

"He better hurry up," complained Io. "The earlier we get back, the less chances of getting caught."

"Hm-hm." Now that she was there, Mariko wanted to see more. Not because of the missing handsome dancer, of course. Their performances were so good she could temporarily forget about all her troubles.

More music with Aria and Kunio came, each one more impressive than the last. And just when Io was getting impatient again, Aria addressed the crowd once more. "The next act would be the one you're all waiting for! Presenting, the man who stirred up a storm on the hearts of countless women, Arashi!"

Mariko couldn't help but stare. The young man with the messy golden hair who suddenly emerged from the crowd, wearing a disarming smile, was nothing short of a vision. He wore a simple black sleeveless haori and a pair of white silk pants, both of which were quite short and fitting, revealing a lot of skin. He was tall and lean, not overly burly but it was clear that he had well-toned muscles, judging from his exposed biceps. He had emerald-colored eyes that reminded Mariko of a cat, for some reason. He was holding a wooden yet beautifully sculpted bo staff, turning it around every second or so. His gait was self-assured and a little arrogant, but the girl just couldn't take her eyes off him.

Io whistled. "Wow, he is hot. He is younger than me, though, so no dice."

Mariko rolled her eyes at her friend, despite the sharp tingling of her nerves.

Of course, Io didn't miss it. "What? I'm not a pedophile. He's perfect for you though. Look, he's looking at you now."

Mariko turned her head back and blinked; the young man called Arashi was indeed looking at her. There was an intrigued look in his eyes and Mariko couldn't help but melt beneath the stare. She then realized that he was looking at her ladybug mask, probably thinking how weird it was. Not the first time that night, she wished she didn't bring the mask along.

The music then started - a rapid beating of the drums. It was only a split second, but there was a look of surprise on the dancer's face, as if the start of the music caught him off guard. Mariko must have imagined it though, because the execution of dance steps was flawless.

Mariko had never seen anything like it. The music was a chaotic mess, a cacophony of harsh and fast drum beats and a melody that rose and fell like the angry waves of the sea. The dance was a mix of rugged martial arts and graceful flexing of the body and limbs. The staff was not merely an ornament, as the dancer spun it around while he kicked in mid-air, even throw it spiraling to the sky and then nimbly catching it without breaking a sweat. But there was a sensual touch to his passionate movements along with the hint of an invitation to join him hanging in the air. If Mariko had to summarize everything, it was like a handsome god stirred up a storm, tempted you to brave the harsh weather to meet him and then fade away after getting what he wanted. And Mariko was very likely to have done the same.

A disturbance in the air pulled Mariko's thoughts off the dark abyss she was sinking in. She felt a rather strong presence and knew it was a Kwami. She turned to Io but was alarmed to see the brown-haired miko notmoving, frozen still like a statue. Looking around her, the rest of the people were on the same situation. It was as if time had stopped, but…

The music kept on playing, even though Kunio and Aria were not moving. The only one who did was the golden-haired dancer - spinning, kicking and flexing, not noticing how time stood still for everyone except him and Mariko.

Mariko was shocked, but told herself to calm down and think. This was the work of a powerful Kwami and she needed to talk to the immortal if she wanted to fix the situation. But as she pulled her hand towards to her head to think, she noticed a long and thin scarlet thread tied to her pinky.

The miko internally grimaced as she closed her eyes. So the elusive red string of fate finally showed itself to her? What horrible timing, just when she was going to be whisked away to who knows where in the next three days to face a future of eternal servitude to the whims of the gods and goddesses. Still, she was curious on whom this thread was tied to, even though she knew it was knowledge she wouldn't be able to use.

Mariko opened her eyes, followed the looping string and gazed at the finger it was connected to. And when she did, time started again and everything turned back to normality. And with one last slam on the drum, the dance was over, but Mariko's troubles were not.

Mariko only had a second, but the red thread of fate was tied to the now sweating dancer, smiling brightly at the screaming and squealing women who quickly gathered around him.

"I take it back." Io's faltering voice partially brought Mariko back to earth. "I can be with younger men after all."

Despite her unfortunate discovery, despite her shaken heart, despite her uncertain future, Mariko laughed aloud.

- o - 0 - o -

The last of the crowd had finally left. The moon shone brightly in the ink-colored and starless sky, a beacon of light in the darkness. Arashi looked up to it, entranced as always at the beauty of the queen of the night sky.

"You missed a step." Kunio's voice bored through his thoughts. "Right at the beginning."

"I know." It was unlike him to make a stupid mistake like that, but he was distracted. "Did you notice a girl wearing a ladybug mask?"

Kunio looked at him like he was losing his mind. "A girl wearing a what?"

"Never mind," said Arashi, shaking his head. "I'm probably hallucinating or something."

"This wouldn't be the first time," quipped Kunio jokingly. Then, his eyes narrowed as his expression turned deadly serious. "Did you find her?"

"Hard to say," replied Arashi. "There are a dozen of dark-haired miko there; I couldn't get a good look at their ears without getting caught."

"Hmmm…" Kunio was thinking hard; Arashi could always tell with the lines appearing all over his face. "So we just to have wait it out then?"

Arashi nodded, his eyes hazy with determination. "Don't worry. The Tamayori-Hime is ours, even if it means dirtying my hands."

- o - 0 - o -

Author's Note:

And so, I have another AU right on my hands. I blame my imagination.

Anyway, this fic came along when I dreamed about Chat Noir calling Marinette Hime-sama, which is princess in Japanese. So it got me thinking what if the ML characters where in feudal Japan, donning kimono and fighting with a katana, kunai and bo staff. Ladybug and Chat Noir are essentially modern-time ninjas. And I adored historical fantasy animes (e.g. Akatsuki no Yona, Fushigi Yuugi, etc.) so one thing lead to another and I find myself itching to write it all out. And thus the birth of another AU ML fanfiction.

First though, I don't consider myself a Japanese expert. I had spent three months as an exchange student in a Jap university, so I'd like to say I've gained quite the knowledge about its very colorful culture and history. The Temple and the religion was loosely based on Shinto beliefs, particularly the Kami, or in this case, the Kwami. I'm not so sure if I should just stick with the more immersive Kami or leave it with Kwami. Still, I find it rather odd for people to worship creatures such as Tikki and Plagg, but they are powerful, so I digress.

Secondly, you'll need a Japanese dictionary. Or at least Google-sensei. Watch out when searching ikemen though. Also, knowledge of manga and anime tropes is not necessary, but may prove useful.

Third, I think I need to explain how I chose the character's names. Mariko was simple, just get Mari from Marinette and put the -ko in the end. Instant Japanese name! Though, I did put some thought to it, since Mariko is a real name, which meant "genuine child". It's a bit fitting for her. And Mari-chan just sounds cute as a nickname.

Adrien's was a toughie, since I can't think of a Jap name starting with AD, so I brainstormed until I came up with the name Arashi. It literally means "storm" and pretty much sums up his role in this story. Also could be the name of a popular male idol group. Plus it begins with an A!

Alya is Aria, since the Jap alphabet doesn't have an L. Nino is Kunio since it rhymes in the end and the name means "countryman" and it's amusing. Chloe is Kiku, though I started with Kouki, since it sounds the same, but it unfortunately sounds like Cookie. And Chloe is far from being a sweet cookie. Kiku is Japanese for the chrysanthemum, a flower associated with perfection, which Chloe is definitely not, but certainly think so. I love the irony, so it stuck.

Fourth, the Clan names are not made up. Look it up if you're interested.

Lastly, the title is one big pun. Fate's Red String = Ladybug's Yo-Yo. Enough said.

Anyway, I'll try to update regularly if I can. Mata ne~