XIV
"Look, you need to tell him what happened down south," Kiyoteru whispered urgently, grabbing Kaito by the elbow. Nearby, Yuki was showing Gakupo her many masterpieces, including something that looked like all four of them riding some sort of dragon.
"What good would that do? You still don't know if his father made it, do you?" Kaito whispered back, ticked off.
Kiyoteru made a frustrated face. "He's certainly not making performances, that's for sure. Most of Bou burnt to the ground, in any case, including the Kamui Theater." He ran his hand through his hair. "But Gakupo's going to hear about it sooner or later. It should be from you."
"I know." Kaito sighed. Why couldn't the good times ever last?
Yuki and Gakupo finished admiring the pictures and placed them in a tube, rolled together. It was time to go.
"Living afraid is no life, Gakupo," Kiyoteru said from the door, as he waved them off. Gakupo just nodded and looked away.
The pair walked away in silence. They took a wide avenue they had never explored before, which seemed to circle around the castle perched in the highest point of Gyuugan, and then lead inland. Several branches of it communicated to the different sections of the city, and at the points where the branches and the main road joined, tall stone arches depicted important moments in the history of the Empire.
"That's Her Tua, king of the archipelago, prostrated before the Emperor of Eto," Gakupo pointed upwards, as they stood under the shadow of one of the arches.
"When the Empire annexed the islands, right?" Kaito asked, looking at the pupil-less eye of Her Tua, vaguely aimed at their direction. It was somewhat unsettling.
"Yes, and to seal the union, the Emperor made Her Tua's daughter his second wife." Behind the prostrated figure, there was a girl with braided hair, extending her hands with an unnaturally wide smile on her face. "She wasn't that pleased by the deal, probably."
"I bet she wasn't half-alligator either, yikes." Kaito noted, earning a laugh from his companion.
"That's just the old art style. Late Shion period sculptures are much more naturalistic."
"Shion?"
"The last dynasty," Gakupo explained, still looking up. If he was thinking about their conversation the previous day, his face didn't show it.
"…Oh."
"You know, I think we should go home…" Gakupo noted. "If it gets too late, we won't be able to do what I was planning. It needs to be in the backyard."
"Oh, does it? And what do you have in mind?"
"You'll see." Gakupo flashed a mysterious smile, and pulled Kaito along by the hand.
The pair was in their living room. Several pieces of expensive-looking clothing were laid over the ancient furniture, looking extremely out of place in the poor house.
"Where did you get all of these?" Kaito was almost afraid to touch the diaphanous fabric Gakupo was presenting him, dyed blue and with embroidered waves.
"Around," Gakupo non-answered, a sash and several pins and decorations hanging from his neck. "Take your clothes off."
"Wha-?"
"Your clothes. Off. Naked. Kaito. Now." Gakupo intoned in staccato bursts, clearly enjoying Kaito's look of confusion.
"You want me to wear that?! What if I rip it?" Kaito took a step back, but then saw the look in Gakupo's eyes. "….Fine."
I wore things like these once, when I was Ao, Kaito thought. And yet, the garments seemed more alien than anything he had ever worn. He spread his arms woodenly, letting Gakupo do with his body what he pleased. Still, Kaito felt tremendously stupid, and his face undoubtedly reflected that.
"You are a very handsome man, you know? Well, when you are not twisting your face like that, anyway." Gakupo kissed his cheek. "These things suit you perfectly."
The many layered robes whispered around his ankles, as Kaito moved cautiously. The overall color of the outfit shifted as the many layers came closer or parted, and their designs combined. When he inclined his head, the ornaments of the crown on his head clinked together, almost musically.
"Since you like the Imperial period so much, I thought you might want to recreate a blessing ceremony using replicas of the clothing nobles wore back then. The backyard is not exactly the palace gardens, but it'll do. Now help me put on the rest of my outfit." Gakupo was already wearing a very complicated set of robes and jewelry, but he gestured towards an even more extravagant crown and several veils, laid over the table.
"How did people walk in these things?!" Kaito cried out, almost tripping the moment he took a step.
"You realize I'm going to dance, right?" Gakupo began to fix the veils around the back of his head, using even more ribbons. "Come here, I need your hands."
"Never mind walking or dancing, I don't think I can breathe in this." Kaito finally reached Gakupo's side, and did his best to follow Gakupo's instructions. He was probably the worst theater assistant the artist had ever suffered.
Finally, they were both done to Gakupo's satisfaction. They marched towards the back door, Kaito still awkwardly placing one foot after the other as if he was walking on glass shards.
Gakupo took a small bucket and ladle next to the door and handed them to Kaito. "Listen, you're the rainfall lord, and I'm the spirit of spring. You just need to use the ladle and bless the plants, and I'll dance for them and make them grow." His arm made a wide semicircle, indicating the bushes and small trees lining the backyard. "Then stand in the middle, put the bucket down there, and we'll share the last sip together."
"I'm going to fall down."
"No, you are not." Gakupo jumped down, ignoring the couple of stone stairs, and extended one hand. Kaito grab it and slowly descended, praying that he wouldn't completely mess this up. Gakupo was completely into it, he could tell, enjoying this first 'play' in months.
"Your step goes like this," Gakupo instructed him. It was slow, at least, very dreamlike. Kaito could do that. "You are supposed to sing out, calling me, but I doubt you know the song. Shame, your voice would match the lord perfectly. Maybe just hum it? Listen…" Gakupo suddenly belted out a tune. The words, like most old religious and folk songs, had lost their meaning with the passage of the ages, but the composition was simple. Kaito managed to replicate it after a couple of tries.
"I wish we had an audience, you'll do great," Gakupo enthused.
I'm so glad we don't have an audience, Kaito thought.
"Let's begin. Go!" Gakupo gestured. Kaito drew in a big breath, and step forward, with the measured, smooth movements of the Bringer of Rain. He sorted past imaginary clouds, slowly drifting by. He moved the bucket in a semicircle, keeping the water inside completely level, and his ladle moved up and down by his side, touching the cusps of the forests below.
Kaito reached the first plant, a flowering bush that waited in slumber for warmer temperatures. He stomped his feet rhythmically before it, sprinkling water with his ladle over the dark leaves, and sang. He repeated the call three times, and then Gakupo answered him, weaving a song of his own. With a fluttering of silks, Spring Gust appeared by his side, twirling around the bush as if his clothes weren't cumbersome at all. Kaito gaped. He had seen Gakupo dance in a couple of occasions by now, most memorably in the festival of Benida, but this time took the cake. The artist was completely absorbed in this role, putting all his energy into a performance held in the unkempt backyard of an old house. A dance that would've been praised in any castle or mansion of Eto, and yet no one but Kaito would ever see.
With a jolt, Kaito realized it was time to keep moving. He continued his methodical tour through the yard, stopping every so often to rinse another plant with water. Gakupo zipped here and there, jumping as if the earth had no pull over him, catching the rays of the afternoon sun with the jewelry circling his hands, neck and forehead.
Did I ever perform this ritual, back then? Kaito questioned himself. He was near the end of the semicircle, and only now he was beginning to become accustomed to the robes and precise movements they required. Did he? He added mentally, as he called Gakupo towards the last plant.
The sun was beginning to set, when Kaito slowly pivoted and walked towards the center of the yard. More or less where Gakupo had indicated, he placed the bucket on the ground, and held the ladle with both hands. The water inside glinted golden.
Gakupo danced around him, as swiftly as he had traversed the yard at first, then progressively slower. Finally he knelt before Kaito, extending his hands. Kaito took a sip of the ladle, hoping that it was what he was supposed to do, and then passed it to Gakupo, who did the same, before placing it over the bucket.
"Um, this is it?" Kaito whispered after a moment.
"There's more to the ceremony after this, but I think I'm done torturing you for now," Gakupo winked. He rose gracefully and embraced Kaito, circling his waist with his arms. "You did well, I'd take you in as my apprentice if we were back home."
"I'm honored," Kaito replied and kiss him. I'd rather not wear anything like this ever again, though.
"No, no. Despite of what the gossip says, apprentices are not allowed to kiss their masters," Gakupo pulled back, smiling mischievously, and danced away.
"Never mind then, I don't want any job that forbids me from touching you." Kaito bunched up the bottom of his robes and followed him.
Gakupo burst out laughing at the sight. "Careful, I need to return these tomorrow," he scolded Kaito good-humoredly.
"Return them where?" Kaito tried again to dispel the mystery.
Gakupo eyed him strangely. "The college has an amateur theater troupe… Masao got them to lend the outfits to me."
"Alright, alright, don't look at me like that." Kaito waved his hand. "You can have as many friends as you like. Friends with money and connections and a bright future, all that. Friends that are very obviously in love with you, even."
"Kaito…"
"I'm not worried, Gakupo. You will always return to me." As soon as Kaito uttered the words, he became aware that he was falling again into the subject of their past lives, something Gakupo didn't want to discuss. Kaito looked at him, fearing his reaction, but there was only faint surprise in his face. He didn't remember the phrase was in any way significant, Kaito realized.
"….Yes." Gakupo smiled. "I will always return to you, I promise."
Kaito masked his elation at hearing this with a goofy grin. "Glad to hear it. Now let's go inside so you can take his thing off me."
"I want to perform in the end-of-winter festival." Gakupo announced that night, while they cuddled in bed.
Kaito found himself very unsurprised by it. Gakupo missed the theater, and his 'special present' that afternoon had been partly a way to scratch that particular itch, whether he realized it or not. But Gakupo needed a real stage, and an audience to appreciate his skill.
"We can meet with Kiyoteru's friends, see what they're planning. If it sounds safe enough, why not?" Kaito replied.
Gakupo squeezed his hand in response. "We'll be free to return home," he whispered softly. "I think Father will like you."
Oh dear, Kaito thought, grimacing. Not the way he wanted to end his birthday this year, but this was as good a moment as ever. "Gakupo…"
"Hm?"
"Kiyoteru gave me some news…I'm sorry." He immediately felt the body pressed against his tense. "Bou was defeated."
"No!" Gakupo's eyes seemed almost like a panicked animal. He sat up, pulling the sheets with white knuckles. He almost seemed in the verge of another seizure, like the ones he had suffered under Kiyoteru's care. Kaito quickly sat as well and embraced him, rocking them both gently.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" How insufficient the words seem to Kaito. But what else he could say? Even if he promised to hunt down and kill Yu himself, it wouldn't reverse the destruction he had caused.
"...What about the Theater?"
Answering that fragile voice almost felt like a crime on itself, but it couldn't be helped anymore. "Burnt down like most of the city proper. It seems Yu was mostly interested in annexing the surrounding territories, more than preserving the city itself." Kaito rubbed Gakupo's back, fruitlessly. He knew what the artist was feeling, and he knew he had no cure for it.
"Then Father and the rest…?"
"I don't know." Kaito closed his eyes, feeling extremely useless.
"So maybe, maybe he's in hiding? Until he can rebuild the Theater," Gakupo mumbled with a painfully false cheer in his voice.
"Maybe," Kaito conceded.
"We need to sort our problems out, and go find him. Make sure he's safe." Gakupo stated, the same tone in his voice. "Then we can rebuild the theater or bring Father here. Right?"
"I'm sure of it," Kaito said quietly, hugging Gakupo. He didn't believe it for one second, but he wasn't about to argue.
"This are the friends I told you about. Akito, Natsuki, Tohma and Haruto," Kiyoteru presented each one in turn. The soldiers were in their uniforms, with their helms under the arms, and nodded politely to Gakupo and Kaito.
Kaito watched them with interest. Akito and Haruto clearly had some foreign blood, given their red and blond hair, respectively, that contrasted with the dark hair on Tohma and Natsuki. They seemed to be roughly about the same age as Kiyoteru, so they probably had been childhood friends of some sort. Whatever the case, they all had honest, intelligent faces, and seemed willing to help in the matter with the warlord.
"We think the best place to hold the performance would be in the courtyard of the fort itself," Haruto explained over a map of the city. "It would be almost impossible for Yu to escape the trap."
"The other good site would be in front of the old hall, around here." Tohma pointed a region near the center of the map. "It's surrounded by good vantage points, and there's only two exits. In case of funny business, it should be easy to block the access to the plaza."
"Of course, it's a matter of requesting the proper permits. The festival is held all around the city, but the triumvirate needs to approve any big events," Kiyoteru pointed out. "I doubt they will deny you a permit, given who you are, but you need to request an audience. And you'll need a troupe."
"I think the college troupe might want to participate in this, if I reveal who I am. They really gush about my father," Gakupo replied somewhat mutedly.
"Good, good." Akito patted him in the back, and the others nodded.
"I want to act too. Or at least, be on the stage while you're up there," Kaito interjected.
Gakupo looked at him with surprise, but Kiyoteru nodded. "That might be a good idea. You can tell Yu apart from a crowd, right? Maybe you can be a narrator, or something like that, just in case if Gakupo doesn't see him right away."
"He's kind of hard to miss, once you know what he looks like. Prematurely grey hair, big bulky guy," Kaito commented. It hardly seem to adequately describe the man that had brought so much suffering to southern Eto, and to them in particular, but ultimately there wasn't anything particularly monstrous about his appearance.
Instead of adding anything else to the description, Kaito then focused on Kiyoteru's suggestion. From what he knew, the narrator usually stood on a corner of the stage, not really participating on the action at all. It would be a good vantage point to see the crowd. "Narrator sounds good to me. Let's do this."
"Excellent." Kiyoteru rubbed his hands, smiling deviously. For the first time, Kaito wondered why he cared so much about capturing Yu. Was there something he wasn't saying?
"We'll write you a letter or recommendation, just in case the bureaucrats in the old tower need some encouragement to book you a date with the triumvirate," Tohma promised.
And with that, the preparations started.
For its part, the triumvirate meeting went without a hitch. Certainly not all three men were actually interested in the arts, but they all appreciated the prestige associated with the Kamui name. That the man in front of them was the son and not the father was unfortunate, but the populace wouldn't necessarily know the difference. Even if they did, they wouldn't care once the play started. The triumvirate didn't, once Gakupo performed privately for them and demonstrated his considerable skills. They gladly sponsored the play, and began announcing it as a special event of the festival, arranged by the grace of the triumvirate out of their love for the citizens of Gyuugan.
"I think the play we choose has to be something suited to the celebration, and the place we are presenting it. So that means something about Gyuugan," Gakupo suggested in their very first meeting as a troupe. That narrowed it down some, though choosing the text was still a lengthy discussion, much to Kaito's surprise.
He had no idea that there were so many stories, and variations on stories, and variations on the variations. Every member of the troupe, and even people that weren't going to be directly involved like Kiyoteru, his friends and even Macne had their opinions on the matter. Since Kaito was going to narrate, he was made to read a number of the scrips in question, with everyone gauging his voice afterwards like he wasn't even there. Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it.
Finally the group settled on a story centered about the last prince of Gyuugan, and the annexation of the city-estate by the burgeoning empire. Gakupo had already performed back home as the Grey Prince a couple of times, and it was a role that suited him well. The prince had been around his age during the battle that finally decided the fate of Gyuugan, and was worshipped by some of the people of the city as an icon of independence. Obviously, he had seen a resurgence of popularity ever since the fall of the Empire.
With that settled, it was time to actually make the play happen. It took time to organize and set up a performance of the kind an important festival demanded, and Gakupo wasn't about to do something half-baked just because they had an ulterior motive. He threw himself into the preparations with so much energy that Kaito began to suspect it was a way to distract himself from thinking anything else, particularly about the fate of Bou and its citizens. Gakupo seem determined to believe that his Father was merely waiting for Yu's comeuppance to come out of hiding, and Kaito made no attempt to contradict him. Like so many other things, it was easier to push aside the problem for the time being.
As for the other members of the troupe, it was unfortunate that the students had academic responsibilities to occupy their days aside from practicing, since the college didn't go into winter recess like many smaller schools did to keep the children out of the cold. However, they all displayed a great deal of enthusiasm at the knowledge they were going to be on stage with an artist of such a prestigious family. In fact, it was to such a degree that it was rather comical to see them hanging on every word that came out of Gakupo' mouth during rehearsals. Usually Kaito sat on a corner and watched, stifling back laughter at the sight of the youngsters following the main star of the troupe around like ducklings. Still, things proceeded as smoothly as it could be hoped for, given that it was a group of actors without any actual experienced masters.
Revealing himself as the son of a famous actor had other unexpected effects. The triumvirate insisted on granting Gakupo a house more suited to a distinguished performer and a protégée of the council, so he and Kaito moved to a fancier place closer to the palace. It meant a longer walk to his job, but Kaito wasn't about to complain. They even had a couple of servants now, a married couple that did their work earnestly and efficiently, and spread no gossip about what their master and his 'bodyguard' did when alone.
Gyuugan's richest merchants and nobles sent each day gifts to the house, and Gakupo had to politely decline several invitations to private parties, in order to focus on the upcoming performance. But it proved that if Gakupo and Kaito settled permanently in Gyuugan, the artist wasn't going to have any trouble finding sponsors.
A few days before the festival, Kiyoteru's friends received a message from one of the border outposts. A man matching the description of Yu had been spotted in the wilderness, travelling towards the city. In accordance to the plan, there was no attempt of arrest. So at least they had confirmation: the warlord was coming, and he was indeed alone.