Chapter 25: A Busy Day

Being married now, Jonathan had moved back into his family manor. There were a few who asked why he accepted such a low-born wife; even his father's cousin asked that. He kept telling them that he didn't see things that way. In fact, he'd never felt so blessed in his life as he did now. He had the honorable life of a samurai, Marie filled his heart with joy and he wouldn't trade her for anyone, and his friends were all such interesting people who often challenged him to take a fresh look at the way he viewed life, the world, and everything. While he might not have made some of these choices before, he was glad now that he had.

He got to spend more time with his father too, walking over to the samurai station with him every morning when they went to report in. Jonathan would technically be a prentice samurai until the next Gauntlet Rite, but Hope was already treating most of them like full-fledged samurai because they'd proven themselves enough. Jonathan already had most the training for that, and then Flynn was obvious since he had many inherent talents despite an odd aversion to using demon skills and spells. Not long after that, Issachar's natural intelligence and prior self-training with Flynn led him to be accepted. And once Walter's mathematic skills and general knowledge were deemed good enough, his natural talent in battle got him accepted too.

The subject of that came up one morning, leading Mark to talk about the other two. "I never had to consider training a woman before," he said. "And the most recent ones are both retired, so they haven't been in Naraku for a while. But Isabeau keeps picking up female demons who are doing a good job at teaching her and she's taking healer classes with the monastery. Having a field medic in our ranks is quite a blessing, since she can hold her own in Naraku."

"She's doing well like that," Jonathan said. "But what of Naverre? He's been helpful if we run across a request that asks us to visit a lower level, but he prefers to keep away from direct combat."

"His sword skills are improving and he can handle himself on the first floor alone," Mark said. "But even if he is willing to play a support role to stronger fighters, he needs to be able to keep himself safe if something happens to separate you on the lower levels." He smiled. "Although really, he's progressing at what we consider to be a normal rate for a prentice samurai without prior training like yourself. We'd consider Isabeau to be ahead of things normally. Your group is really something special in excelling beyond our expectations. Although, sometimes that worries me."

"How so?" Jonathan asked, puzzled by his father admitting something like that.

Mark shrugged. "It's a feeling I have sometimes. God calls us to serve Him and Mikado; we always seem to have a decent number of samurai to keep things peaceful. We were getting worried in prior years when no one was called. But now that He has called six of you together and you've all proven your worth so early into your apprenticeship, I feel like something is brewing and God wants us to be prepared. Especially around Flynn, have you noticed? I feel like he knows something the rest of us don't, what with the way he daydreams in training, but then is as sharp as a hawk in Naraku like he's waiting for some sign."

After considering that, he had to nod in agreement. "I haven't thought of it, but that is true. And there's some situations where he seems to know just what to say to get people to calm down, or to encourage them into a proper course of action. Even with me; sometimes he seems to know me far better than I know him."

"If we can notice such things, perhaps it's not something we need to worry about since it's in God's hands," he said.

That phrase came back to mind when Jonathan ended up talking with Walter, which he brought up when asked about how his self study into the Book of Foundations was going. "It's weird sometimes because there's a lot of stuff that is reassuring to take at face value," Walter said. "But then when you actually think about it, it gets hard to wrap your head around. Like this whole thing of being in God's hands so you don't need to worry so much. It sounds fine, kind of like when a kid is scared and their parent tells them to take their hand and it'll be okay. And the kid's reassured with that."

"Some people are assured when doing major things to think that they're in God's hands," Jonathan said.

"But it also sounds like an excuse, you know?" Walter went on. "It takes responsibility off your hands. Like somebody was requesting quills of a chagrin the other day and I took the request; it took me several days to get enough for them. I told the guy at one point that it was a problem that I couldn't do much about, and he just said that it was in God's hands. But then, I was doing the work fighting the demons and he would end up doing the work of whatever called for those quills. I was getting some bad luck in not getting quills, but excusing it as being in God's hands seems like it's cheapening the effort we'd both end up putting into his craft."

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but it makes some sense as something not to rely entirely on, like any other excuse," he said. Like their own training; they were working hard to get where they were. They might be following a secret calling of God, but they couldn't neglect their own efforts.

Walter nodded. "Yeah, and somebody managed to annoy me with something similar to that phrase the other day, when they said you and Marie had God's blessings to end up as you did. You certainly got lucky."

"Very lucky," Jonathan said, smiling but blushing some at that being brought up.

"But I know you took a lot of risks too," Walter said. "You could've gotten disowned by your family and lost all acknowledgment as a Luxuror, but you went ahead and stood up for yourself and her. I could agree that God or somebody was watching out for you two to make sure things went just right. But then, not only did you take risks, but I know she worked her tail off to get your attention and then to get you to discount social status to be accepted by you. You had God's blessing in some way, but I don't like hearing people talking like that explains everything, not acknowledging the courage you two have to do something that was unheard of."

"Then what you're trying to say is that it's fine to get some reassurance from that kind of thinking, but don't neglect your own efforts?" he said.

"That's sounds right, better than I've gotten in trying to explain it to myself," he said. "It's like a lot of things I'm thinking through with this study. I mean, a lot of it sounds well and good, but it seems like if you lived your life perfectly by the book, it'd be an awful dull life where you took very few risks. Like, how much room does a person have to budge and be different, but still be considered good?"

That reminded him of Issachar not being able to get through the Book of Deviants. Issachar was a good person; Jonathan didn't doubt that. But he was different from most people in so many ways that it was difficult for him. "The more I learn, the more that kind of question seems constraining," Jonathan said. "People are a lot more different from each other than I believed, so what seems obviously good to me isn't something that's good for another. And sometimes risks are needed."

Walter rubbed his head. "Yeah, nobody likes to be told they're bad because of something that's a part of who they are."

The conversation lingered in Jonathan's mind through the day, leading him to look around for Issachar after he'd taken care of some demons in Naraku. Jonathan wasn't sure what he was looking to say to him. Thankfully, Issachar had a question for him. "I found out that silk flowers are usually crafted by Luxurors as a hobby, not by Casualry craftsmen," he said. "So if you were looking to get one, where would you buy it? Do you have to ask the people who make them directly?"

After thinking a moment to recall what day it was, Jonathan had a good answer for that. "If you're looking for that kind of hobby craft, a crafts fair is the best place to look for one. There should be one going on today over at the dance hall, if I'm not mistaken. I haven't had much occasion to go to one, but my mother and sisters to do for their hobbies, and I know it takes place weekly."

"That'd be nice if it was today, although," he shifted nervously. "I'm looking for a particular kind of flower, a lotus, but I'm not familiar with what they look like."

"I don't mind helping you look, since I know what those look like," Jonathan said. "Is it for a girl?"

"Ah," he got embarrassed at the question, but that made his answer all the more surprising. "No, actually I want to get one for Flynn. He's been out of sorts lately and, well... the short of it is, he liked the lotus hair clip he borrowed from Naverre, but since that was one of his family's keepsakes, he couldn't keep it and Naverre's not likely to part with it. So I wanted to try finding another for him."

"Hmm, well I can't guarantee a hair clip, but the silk flower shouldn't be hard to find and it could be adapted from there," he said.

Fortunately, Jonathan was right about the weekly crafts fair going on at the dance hall. It traveled around the city plazas during the summer, but winter led it to most often be here, as one of the largest open public spaces. Many Luxurors kept a hobby of some kind, selling or gifting the crafts to each other as the Casualry (as much as Jonathan didn't like to admit it) were taught to abstain from any frivolities. Although, silk flowers were something of an acceptable exception, since they could be kept for special occasions for a long time. The stable demand of it led to it being an often chosen craft.

Finding a lotus specifically took some searching, but it led to a fruitful discovery. Near a supplier group that arranged sales of rarer materials like pearls, they found a small group of history hobbyists who were telling stories of the past trying to gather interest in their group. Telling them that his family actually had a copy of the fifth Guisse volume got their attention. Since it was an opportune time, he said, "The two of us have been reading some of those volumes, but we keep coming across strange gaps in the records."

"Yeah, and that fifth volume had two such gaps, one that was over twenty years," Issachar said.

"Would that be around 570 to close to 600?" one of the hobbyists asked.

"That's right," Issachar said. "Do you know anything about that?"

The man stroked his beard on being asked that. "Well, one thing we can say for certain is that these gaps exit across all historical records we have. Guisse's volume for you samurai, records of the monastery and castle, even census reports, there's just these gaps where almost nothing exists of what happened those years."

"We suspect it's not something pleasant, since any record with such a gap picks things back up by saying that things are peaceful," one of the women of the group said. "Like they're insisting on it; it's very strange."

"We noticed that ourselves with Guisse," Jonathan said. "Actually, the fifth volume might confirm that something bad happens during those gaps."

"Really?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair.

He nodded. "I don't remember the exact phrasing, but the historian for that time period was unhappy with being told to just ignore things, and his successor was apparently bothered by the uncharacteristic absence of records from his father, whom he said was a dedicated worker. However, the copy we have is frail, so you'll need to ask permission of my father to take a look at it within our library."

"That'd be good, especially if we could make a copy so the information is more available," she said.

"Actually, there is something about those gaps that we've been working on, but we would need your help on it," another woman said. "We'd like to do some research within the city catacombs, but the samurai have it locked off and requests to enter are usually denied."

It had to be because there was a tunnel that connected the catacombs to Naraku. There was a heavy door in the way, but that wasn't a guarantee to stop demons. "There's not a lot we could do about that as prentices, but we could ask around to see if anyone else might be interested in seeing your research done," Jonathan told her.

Even if they found that something bad had happened during those gaps, Jonathan felt like it might be difficult to figure out why those gaps happened. He kept recalling what the fifth volume asked when he got curious about things now. Is it such a sin to know tragedy? Other books claimed that controlling information led to controlling people. But who could control information over centuries, and why?

As they searched on for the particular flower, Jonathan felt like something in the back of his mind was nagging at him. It was like he was doing something wrong, straying off the path he should be following. But what was he doing wrong? He was keeping busy with work and listening to his friends, while whoever was telling him that he was making errors was speaking some other language. These are simple directions, how can you mess them up? But what was…?

It was puzzling, but then Jonathan spotted what they'd come to the crafts fair for. "Oh, here we are, these ones are lotus flowers," he said, picking up a lavender colored one.

"Those look right," Issachar said, smiling as he started looking over them. "I don't know if you got to talk with him that day, but he had been wearing it on top of his head, so I didn't get a good look at it. They are pretty; he was dressed a lot simpler than everyone else, but he was very…" he made an odd pause, then rethought what he was saying. "Memorable. I suppose that's how you'd say it." Then he picked up a peach and pink lotus to look at closer.

Jonathan felt a happy warmth briefly, thinking that he might get this happy if he was trying to find a gift to make Marie happy. Then he realized, there was this quiet but strong affection Issachar showed for Flynn. Jonathan spotted them together a lot over this winter: sharing meals often, discussing books and their work. While he wasn't around the dorms as much, he'd also heard Walter tease Issachar for being like a nagging wife over Flynn some mornings to make sure he wasn't sloppy, which would get Issachar really embarrassed while Flynn shrugged it off. Jonathan had chalked it up to them simply being best friends for years.

But seeing him right now, bright and happy one moment as he checked over the silk flower, then abruptly self-conscious and tense… and he hadn't been able to finish the Book of Deviants. While there were many items in that book that seemed to point out things that were natural to Issachar, there was one in particular that came to Jonathan's mind now. Was Issachar in love with Flynn?

There was a bold intense voice in his head saying, he should be condemned for such a perverse heart. There is no saving him. Cut off all ties with him, stop listening to him, and get back to where you belong.

There was another voice, Walter's actually, reminding him of what he'd heard just earlier today: nobody likes to be told they're bad because of something that's a part of who they are. Giving up on him just because of who he loves will hurt him badly, cause you two are getting to be good friends, right? You even told him about the secret forbidden book collection.

And there was a gentle voice, shaken by the others. What is this? The world is right and wrong, black and white. But from where I look now, there is so much gray… and color, color like I've never seen before.

And a much softer voice, is this love? It doesn't seem right to condemn someone for love.

Somewhere in the confusion, Issachar had got the attention of the crafter to buy the peach pink lotus. "Is it for your girlfriend?" the woman asked, cheerful and playful as she handed over some change.

"Ah, no it's for a friend," Issachar replied, bashful in spite of what he was saying.

"Yeah, someone who's having a hard time," Jonathan said, trying to cover for him although there was a feeling like he should expose and humiliate him for being wrong. But that feeling felt very wrong, to do that to a friend.

Issachar nodded, but then glanced at him and got concerned. "Hoy, is something wrong? You don't look so well."

"I'm probably just tired, it's been a busy day," Jonathan said, now trying to cover for himself.

While he didn't seem convinced, Issachar did a better job at making things seem normal. "Or maybe you have that cold too. Sorry for heading off, m'am, but I think I better go see him home to rest."

"Sure, you both take care now," the crafter said.

They didn't leave immediately, though. Instead, Issachar brought him to one of the side rooms that was still set up as a sitting room. "There was someone with herbal teas and hot water, so I can get you a cup of one of those," he offered.

"Thank you, and sorry about this," he said, taking a seat in there. "My mind is just, buzzing, I don't know."

"It's okay, I'll be back in a bit," he said, then left him there.

Jonathan closed his eyes, trying to calm down. This wasn't even something he knew; it was something he suspected, strongly now that he realized it might be like that. If his two friends loved each other… they were good people. They were hard-working as samurai, always helping others. They didn't shirk their duties like Jonathan was realizing that a worrying number of older samurai were doing. But a love like that should be unquestionably wrong. It had been unthinkable for him until he had read about it in the Book of Deviants.

That book would condemn everyone to hell because no one could meet the impossibly pure standards it demanded. And they clearly cared about each other, even if one accepted it just on a level of friendship. That didn't have the qualities of lust that could ruin a person. Then compare it to what he read about with Celia: two men who deeply cared for each other and might be in love too, or a man and woman who had a pristine marriage of empty feelings where one could be replaced with a wooden statue to little change.

You're taking wrong for right and right for wrong.

The world looks so different from the eyes of a human, not from the eyes of one in heaven.

"In heaven?" Jonathan asked softly into the empty room.

There was a fleeting moment of surprise, then things went still. Jonathan glanced around the room, but it seemed ordinary. Yet for a moment, that was strange. There was no one but him in here. Had there been someone here before? Or more than one, speaking in ways that his ears did not hear.

The door opened, but it was Issachar with two tea cups. "Here, I got you something good for warding off illness," he said, handing him one. "It was just an excuse, but you said your mind was buzzing with stuff." He smiled sheepishly as he sat down in another chair with his own tea. "I know how that goes. Sometimes you get so caught up in something in your mind that your body starts feeling terrible, and then you get sick on top of that."

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip of the tea. It tasted of rose hips and citrus. "I don't think I've been worried enough to make myself ill, but it felt like that. Guess I have had an easy life to coast through so far."

"Well if you want to talk about anything, go right ahead," Issachar said. "Though it's okay if you just want some quiet and then go back home early. Sometimes that's good too."

"Thanks, you're a good friend," he said, realizing then that his friends from before he'd become a samurai might not do this kind of thing for him. And here he'd thinking about being terrible to him just for a suspicion. Maybe he was a terrible person in some way; Jonathan was tempted to keep silent, but he should try to find things out for himself. "Pardon me for asking, but, did you want the flower for Flynn because you love him?"

"Wh-why would you ask that?" he asked, freezing like someone caught doing something they know they shouldn't.

The mental arguments nearly started up again, but Jonathan managed to stop it this time. Now that he'd started, he should listen. "The way you were acting just now made me think of it," he explained, keeping his voice steady and calm. He hoped that was reassuring. "But I've had to learn again and again that what I once thought of the world only described a small portion of it. So I want to hear from you, in your own words, what's going on."

"Oh, well…" Issachar clenched at his tea cup for a moment. Then he set it down, seeming like he was facing a challenge he wasn't prepared for but was going to face anyhow. "Yes, that's why. I love him…" he clenched his fist, though his eyes were soft in thinking fondly of something, "so much. But I haven't told him yet. I can't, really. He told me several times now that he dislikes the pressure he gets to be thinking of courtship and marriage, because he doesn't feel like he could handle it right now. Um, I can't tell you why that is. I know why he feels that way, and I know it's a good reason.

"But that leads him to take on his burdens alone, and that's just," he sighed, seeming helpless at it. "It's bad for him too. I want to help him, and comfort him. You know, you've noticed that he's troubled and it's not something with a simple solution. If I told him how I feel, he, well, it might be a feather to break him as he is right now. Or maybe more like a sack of bricks. But the fact that he cares so much about, well, everything, it's… Flynn's a wonderful and amazing person, but he's falling apart and it hurts me so much to see it happen even as I'm doing everything I can to support him without further burdening him."

Jonathan felt terribly ashamed of himself, and was certain he deserved that. The confusion that had been in his mind felt insignificant compared to the weight of emotions coming out in Issachar's words. "You are doing a lot for him," he said.

"Well he's done a lot for me," Issachar said. "For years, he was the only person who saw any worth in me. I mean it, even I thought I was worthless and wicked, like I should become one of the forgotten ones."

"Forgotten?" he asked, although he had a sick feeling that he knew what he was saying. And there was that stern voice saying that he shouldn't look too deeply into the shadows, and another voice saying that he shouldn't look away. There were lines in his family tree that were noticeably erased rather than noted as deceased.

Issachar rubbed his neck. "There are… people who don't feel like they deserve to be in Mikado, because it's a land for the blessed children of God and they feel like they don't deserve such blessings. Even for those of us in the Casualry who work hard every day and sleep on straw bedding on the floor. You feel like you don't belong to this beautiful peaceful land, so you make yourself disappear. And then people forget about you because you committed the grave sin of suicide. I wanted to disappear and I was certain people would be happy to forget about me.

"But Flynn didn't want that. He told me we should try to become samurai if I was unhappy with life, and then he expected me to show up every day for practice. So I struggled through every day to do that, and here I am finally, living a life beyond anything I could dream of." He beamed for a moment, but was soon concerned again. "I have more friends now, and people who actually admire me. But even though I don't depend on him so much now, Flynn still means so much to me, more than anyone else could. I could have disappeared quietly and nobody would have noticed but him. But he… it'd be terrible if he did, and so many more people would be affected by that."

There were people who felt like that. In Mikado, said to be the closest thing to Heaven on Earth in all of existence. Then it was all a flimsy act to cover for a hidden tyranny and Mikado should burn to nothing but cinders so that mankind could be freed from the fetters of slavery.

"R-right," Jonathan said, starting to feel sick again.

For a moment, Issachar didn't notice. "It's hard to keep quiet, but I have to," he said. "I decided months ago that I'd be there quietly for him. And you're helping too, you know, being friends with us. When you feel like that, every bit of happiness is precious. So I keep doing little things, like buying this flower because I'm sure it will help. I know it must seem strange to you, but thanks for asking. I'm glad I could finally tell someone about this, even if it's not Flynn. It's tough, but this is the best for both of us right now."

He remembered his dreams of the vast desert ruins, how he'd been told that the other man wandering through there had the balance of the world resting on his shoulders. "It sounds like quite a burden to love him like that," Jonathan said. "Knowing that he could make a decision and the world would end just like that, and trying to draw him away from that."

"Huh?" Issachar glanced over at him.

"What did I just say?" Jonathan asked, feeling like he was somewhere far away from himself.

He closed his eyes and saw white feathers whirling around him like snow kicked up in the wind. Where did the feathers come from? They didn't have any. And his feelings were alien to himself. There was so much filth embedded in this place, in these souls. It would infect the children and turn them into demons, so it all had to be eradicated even if it meant eradicating himself because the filth stained his own hands in trying to find something worth saving.

Then someone clasped his hands and it was like an enchantment broke. Issachar was now sitting beside him on the couch, looking over him with worry. "I'm sorry, I meant to listen to what was troubling you and ended up talking so much about myself. Something is wrong, so what is it?"

"It's…" his throat seized up. He wanted to say it was nothing. Who would believe this without thinking he was crazy? But then, Issachar had just been telling him about wanting to disappear completely for years. "It's voices in my head, arguing over things and I can't tell who's right or who's wrong. And… something that shouldn't be there, memories of not being myself. It's so strange, but it's happening right now."

"Is it like you're in the middle of a crowd and everybody's arguing over what you're doing and thinking? And some criticize you like you're scum while others are encouraging you to do crazy stuff that would hurt you or others?" Issachar asked those questions like he not only believed him, but knew exactly what going through that was like.

"Right, that's it," Jonathan said, clutching Issachar's hand as he realized he was trembling.

"It's really hard to think clearly when your mind is doing that to you," Issachar said. "Easy to fall back into too, even when you realize it's holding you back. But you can learn to take back control of your thoughts. When I find that happening, I find something simple to do to distract myself with. Like chores; they need to get done anyhow and you may as well use that time to clear your mind. Then when it's calm and quiet, you can consider what made your thoughts explode like that and figure out how to address the problem."

"Thanks, that makes sense," he said, looking down. "I've never felt like this before. Or, no, maybe it's just not been this bad." Because he had quite a few mental fights with himself this past autumn, but then Marie would be there and things wouldn't seem to matter anymore.

"Well maybe you can figure it out soon," Issachar said to encourage him. "I hope you can, and you can talk with me about things any time."

"Thanks," Jonathan said, although it made him feel bad for what he'd been thinking. Was it right or wrong? Wait, this was going nowhere and if he just decided which to stick with… "Issachar… I believe you're doing the right thing. With Flynn, I mean. I can see that you truly love him and I hope you can let him know someday. You both deserve to be happy, and to feel like you belong. But if it gets difficult staying quiet like this when he's not ready, I'll be there for you as a friend, any time."

And Issachar smiled so brightly at that that it felt like the stern voice faded into the shadows.

Not long after that, Issachar made good on his word and walked with Jonathan back to his family manor to make sure he was okay. Marie's bright smile on greeting him made him feel better too, although she quickly noticed things. "You seem bothered, is it something bad?" she asked, taking his hand and looking at him in worry.

"It's a lot of troubling thoughts that came on at once, but it'll be fine," Jonathan said, smiling at her and pulling her closer to quietly add, "because coming back home to you is finding light in a dark cavern and I know I can find my way with you always waiting for me."

She laughed a little at that. "I will be, no matter what happens. What was the trouble?"

"We can talk about it later, when we're not out in the hall," he said. "How was your day?"

"Oh, something great happened," she said, a sparkle in her eyes as she stepped aside so they could head back to their rooms. "Mother mentioned that she wanted some sweet bread today, so I decided to show her how they're made. She had no idea how much work went into them! But bless her, she did her best to help." Marie laughed at it.

"Mother was in the kitchen?" Jonathan asked, half joking about it. It was a much welcomed lightness after this day tested his ideas so much.