Chapter 38:
"These are our family records," said Saisei, as she gestured to the large room. "Only the ones produced in the last few years are in Common. All the rest are in the Old Tongue."
"That won't be a problem," said Chika in a strangely formal tone. She bowed politely for Saisei. "Thank you for allowing us to look through this. It means a great deal to me."
Blake nodded, remembering the forcedly neutral expression on Saisei's face when she had asked her parents' permission to allow Blake and Chika to review the Mitarai Family archives. Saisei's parents had seemed nice enough, though Blake got the distinct impression that they were so friendly because they took great pride in the fact that their daughter had become one of the Goyosei. She'd heard of parents like that, parents who pushed their children to excel, not because they cared about their children realizing their potential, but because of the possible boons that came from being the parents of someone successful. It reminded Blake a bit of how Weiss sometimes considered her relationship with her father at times.
Saisei gave Blake a curious look. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" she asked. "Not that I'm one to criticize a person's hobbies, but this hardly seems like something you'd want to do, especially so soon after arriving."
"It's all right," said Blake. "Besides, I told Chika that I would help her with this."
"If you say so," said Saisei, looking between Blake and Chika. It was clear that she considered them a very odd pair. Granted, Blake didn't think that Saisei was wrong in that respect.
Resigning herself to accepting Blake's answer, Saisei sighed and shook her head. "Very well then. I don't want to keep the others waiting, so I'll leave you two to it. Just make sure you're careful if you start examining the oldest records. Our preservation techniques are very good. But they have their limits."
"We will be very careful," promised Chika.
"When I can be bothered to talk to my parents again, I'll need to badger them about getting these things transcribed," she muttered on her way out.
Blake watched Saisei until the door closed behind her, silently hoping that Saisei's relationship with her family wasn't that bad. However, Chika seemed unconcerned.
"Come on," said Chika, already moving towards the back of the archive, where the oldest records were being stored.
"Do you know what you're looking for?" asked Blake.
"Akari was the founder of the Mitarai Family within the Mibu Clan," said Saisei. "It's only natural that any information about her or any records that she herself left would be the family's earliest records. We will have to be careful though. Those manuscripts are thousands of years old."
"How have they lasted this long?" asked Blake.
"Like Saisei said, our preservation techniques are very good," said Chika. "Also, the records are occasionally transcribed so that the information can be kept, even after the old manuscripts have wasted away. The oldest ones in this archive are probably no more than ten-thousand years at most."
Blake raised an eyebrow. For ink on paper, keeping something preserved for that long was an incredible feat. "What do you know about Akari?" she asked.
"Back then, Akari was originally an outsider," said Chika, already checking the labels of a shelf of scrolls. "She was born into a class of people known as Shamans."
"Shamans?" asked Blake.
"People outside the Mibu Clan who exhibited unusual or supernatural powers," said Chika. "Because understanding of Aura, including its myriad capabilities was not even in its infancy back then, the emergence of such people outside the Mibu was extremely unusual. The Mibu Clan collected Shamans for study and research."
"That's awful," said Blake.
"It's better treatment than what Shamans received in the outside world," said Chika curtly. "They were routinely discriminated against, treated as monsters, accused of being possessed by or working with demons, when they weren't being outright exploited. The Mibu protected them and worked to help them learn to understand and utilize their powers. It was because of her time spent with the Mibu that Akari was able to hone her healing arts to such an incredible extent, arts that have only been further enhanced and refined as they were passed down through successive generations of her family."
"All right..." said Blake, frowning, still not liking the implication that Shamans had largely been used as experimental subjects.
"Here!" said Chika, pulling a scroll of the shelf. She handled it carefully, almost as though she expected it to crumble to dust in her hands. Blake could understand. The parchment looked yellow and brittle around the edges. In fact, she could see nicks and cracks where some of it had indeed been broken away. Hopefully that damage was confined to the edges, and the actual writing was unmarred.
Taking the scroll to a table, Chika began to carefully unroll it, moving slowly and delicately. Blake looked over her shoulder, staring at the characters that covered the parchment, arranged in vertical rows. It was completely incomprehensible to her. Looking at Chika's face, Blake could see Chika muttering softly, apparently working through translating the language into something more easily understood.
Finally, Chika began to recite her translation. "As it turned out, the solution to the Mibu Clan's plight was found in the most unlikely of places. Ruru, the child that the Former Crimson King kept by his side at almost all times, hosted the antibodies that were exactly what we needed. From only a small sample of her blood, we were able to develop a serum that successfully alleviated the Death Disease.
"I find myself somewhat relieved that Hishigi is dead now. He would be disgusted to learn that the sacrifices of the Mibu Reconstruction Project were in vain, and that the solution lay so close. However, the fruits of his labor did provide the foundation that I used to develop the serum from Ruru's blood, so it can't be said that the project was entirely useless. But it still saddens me that so many sacrifices were made to no end.
"Now that the Mibu Reconstruction Project's primary aim has been accomplished, I have officially listed the project as terminated. I did not want to label it as complete, as the project ultimately did not live up to Hishigi's ambitions. It's just as well. No one would be served by the creation of new gods. There is no place for gods in the new Mibu Clan."
Examining Chika's expression, Blake could see that she did not seem happy about this. She could understand why. "It sounds as though the project wasn't something so great after all," she said. "What is this Death Disease?"
"I don't know," admitted Chika. "It's hard to imagine a disease that the Mibu would have difficulty curing. But this was hundreds of millennia ago, so their skills might not have been as advanced."
I'm not so sure about that, thought Blake. Diseases generally came in all kinds, with all manner of symptoms and severities. To label a disease the "Death Disease" came off as absurdly redundant to her. There had been countless fatal ailments throughout the course of human history, stretching back past their oldest histories and memories. There were plenty such diseases in this day and age, some of which were considered incurable. Either the ancient Mibu had an absurdly melodramatic sense of aesthetics...or the Death Disease was something far worse than your average virus.
Still, that was a question for another time, at least as far as Chika was concerned. She was already reading ahead, looking for any more information about the Mibu Reconstruction Project. Blake could see her lips muttering as she worked on reading the characters and translating their meaning. After several more minutes of reading, her face lit up.
"Ah ha!"
"What did you find?" asked Blake.
"It's right here," said Chika, grinning triumphantly, a look that seemed almost frighteningly manic on her face. "By all rights, I should destroy the remnants of Hishigi's research. However, I do not have the heart to erase the memory of what he and so many countless others have sacrificed. Therefore, I have entrusted the records to Shihodo. She has promised to guard them, along with the graves of the experimental subjects. Perhaps this sentiment on my part will bear something terrible in the future, but I hope that any who review the records appreciate the depths of the Mibu's loss."
Silence lingered after Chika's voice trailed off. Blake held her tongue, but felt even more trepidation stirring within her. The more she heard about the Mibu Reconstruction Project, the less she liked the sound of it and the less she thought it had anything to do with what Chika apparently believed the project was for.
"She gave the records to Shihodo," said Chika softly. "Now I understand."
"What do you mean?" asked Blake. "Who is Shihodo?"
"She was one of the original Taishiro of the Mibu Clan," said Chika. "According to what I remember, I believe that she guarded the underground labyrinth that ran beneath the Palace."
"So the records of the project are underground," said Blake.
"Most likely," said Chika. "The problem is that the underground sections are mostly sealed off. I'll need to search for a way down." She smiled at Blake, her expression seeming more than a little disturbing. "We've almost done it," she said triumphantly. "I'll let you know when I discover a way down."
"Does that mean we're done here?" asked Blake.
"For now," said Chika. "I need look through the Palace blueprints to find probable entrances to the underground sections. That could take me a few days." She fixed Blake with a look. "You should go back to your friends, it'll keep people from getting too suspicious of us."
"All right," said Blake, not bothering to hide her frown. Chika's insistence was largely unnecessary and completely pointless. Sora and, presumably, her husband already knew about what Chika was doing, but Blake decided not to tell her. She got the feeling that, if Chika knew she was being allowed to do this, she would come to the conclusion that she was being deceived. Blake just hoped that disaster did not loom at whatever lay at the end of this strange, foreboding trail.
"I didn't realize you'd brought that along," said Kyo as he and Yang walked side by side.
"Well, after you went through the trouble of dressing me in it once, I wasn't about to let it go to waste," said Yang as she relished in the delighted look on Kyo's face at the sight of her in the kimono he'd gotten for her in Cherry Grove. Yang had to admit that she had taken a strong liking to the lovely garment, though she hadn't yet found an occasion to wear it, save for now.
"So where are you taking me?" asked Yang. "Or is it supposed to be a surprise?"
"Well, I figured I'd show you some of the places I frequent around Onmyo," said Kyo. "We might bump into our friends while we're out and about, as they're places that Saisei goes to as well."
"Maybe," said Yang. "But I'm sure we'll have fun either way." She wrapped her arms around Kyo, noting that Kyo was still carrying his sword in his other hand. Not that she minded. After all, she was wearing Ember Celica on her left arm. Thinking about her weapon reminded Yang about the previous day, and she wondered if Murasame was making any progress on designing the new weapon for her right arm. She even wondered what it would be, given that it would be a weapon to arm an arm that Yang could make appear and disappear at will, and even transform to a certain extent. The weapon's form would have to be flexible to compensate for all those things. If Murasame created weapons with mechashift capabilities, she'd figure that it wouldn't be too hard for him to come up with a solution. But she doubted that Murasame did that kind of work.
"Something on your mind?" asked Kyo as they made their way down the Palace corridors, the layout looking familiar to Yang. She realized that this must have been the way they came when they first came into the Palace.
"I was just thinking about what Murasame told me yesterday," said Yang, "about making a new weapon for me."
"Ah...excited to see what he comes up with?" asked Kyo.
"More like I wonder how he's even gonna pull it off," said Yang. "From the sound of things, transforming weapons isn't something you folks actually do."
"It's true," agreed Kyo. "However, I believe that Murasame-sama is more than up to the challenge. He has a remarkable knowledge when it comes to the design and creation of weapons. He's even studied the methods of forging and designing used in the outside world."
"So he knows how to make transforming weapons, like mine or Ruby's?" asked yang.
Kyo nodded. "However, as he told you, such weapons can be difficult to make in such a manner that they are compatible with the Mibu philosophies of combat. Because they are often composed of disparate parts that are assembled, with some being replaced over time as they wear out, it is difficult to invest them with Aura so that they develop their own souls."
"So that's why Jaune's sword had such a strong response, but Ruby's scythe didn't," said Yang.
"Partly," said Kyo. "A weapon without a great number of moving parts, like a basic sword, is much easier to maintain over the course of time. Because of that and because it can then be passed down from parent to child, its Aura is able to develop by drawing upon the Auras of those who have wielded it."
"I guess that makes sense," said Yang, looking up as they exited the Palace hallways. The first wall of the Five Gates loomed ahead. Yang noticed that the gates were already open, just as they had said on the day of their arrival. She looked around as Kyo led her through them. She saw no sign of the Goyosei who were supposed to be guarding each gate, but she remembered that they did say that that was a largely ceremonial role.
Before long, they were outside the Palace and wandering through rolling, green hills populated with parks and gardens. Yang's head moved around as though on a swivel as she fought to take everything in. She saw sprawling mansions, places that looked like schools, or even training halls for martial artists. Remembering what she had seen from above on the day of their arrival, Yang remembered that this was supposed to be the upperclass district of Onmyo, where the city's more affluent and important residents lived.
At the moment, Kyo was leading them through this area without even pausing. As they crested a hill, Yang gasped as she looked down over the rows and rows of buildings and streets that made up the city proper. Even from here, she could see countless people moving around the streets, going from building to building. Though there were no cars on the streets, no airships flying overhead, there was an air of energy here that completely eclipsed the quiet emptiness of the district that they'd just passed through.
She and Kyo strode down, the paved footpath they'd been following widening and straightening as it became a proper city street, albeit only one that was really fit for foot-traffic, and the occasional cart or carriage.
Yang continued to hold Kyo's arm, looking around as he led her along the street. As she did, she began to notice something. They were getting quite a bit of attention...not all of it positive. At first, Yang thought it was her, given that she was an outsider. Even though she was wearing a kimono, her appearance was fairly distinct, compared to most of the people she saw along the street. However, she began to realize that their eyes weren't on her, but on Kyo.
As they passed, people's heads would turn their way, almost as though drawn by some unseen force. Looking around, Yang saw a few expressions of awe and sincere respect. On others, she saw thinly veiled suspicion, and even some hostility. People would see Kyo, watch as he passed, then turn to mutter to one another with low voices. Yang frowned, unable to hear what was being said, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. She remembered her talk with Saisei aboard the airship. Saisei had said that Kyo's status and Crimson Eyes set him apart. But now she got to see it for herself.
For his part, Kyo didn't even seem to notice it, simply smiling cheerfully as he strolled past. Yang knew that he was far too alert and aware of his surroundings to fail to notice all the eyes tracking him and the mutterings that followed in his wake. Yet he acted as though they were nothing more than background noise.
I guess he must be used to that sort of thing by now, she thought sadly.
"Is something wrong?" asked Kyo, noticing the dip in her mood.
"You really shouldn't have to ask," said Yang, letting her eyes drift around to the people they passed. "Are you really okay with this?"
"I used to resent it a great deal," admitted Kyo. "I hadn't done anything, yet people always treated me as though I were some kind of monstrous thing. Some of them even went so far as to try and attack me when I was alone or isolated. I ended up with quite the surly attitude because of it."
"But you're okay with it now?" asked Yang.
"I've learned to not let it bother me," said Kyo. "I can't control how other people see me, whether they fear me or not. The only person I can truly control is myself. So I resolved to be myself in all things, however people might react to it." His smile widened slightly. "Besides, I've made friends of my own, people who I respect and who respect me." He turned to her. "And I have you now. So what do I care if people, whose opinions don't matter to me, mutter and glare?"
Yang smiled back and leaned her head against his shoulder. Like Kyo, she decided not to let the mutterings and strange looks bother her. Instead, she decided to absorb herself with the scenery around her and the boy beside her.
"So, where are we heading?" asked Yang.
"There are a few artisans that I like to visit whenever I'm home," said Kyo. "They make some truly spectacular products."
"I'll bet," said Yang, wondering just what kind of things Kyo liked to buy. he didn't seem the sort of boy to go for jewelry or accessories. However, she knew that he did have a some very particular interests. I'll bet it's food-related, she thought wryly.
Her smile became a grin as Kyo led her around a corner and she saw the sign for the shop they were entering, its name printed in both Common and the characters of the Old Tongue: Fine Oils and Vinegars.
A bell rang as Kyo opened the door and led Yang inside. Looking around, Yang was amazed to see tanks and barrels lined up in rows throughout the shop. They were decorated with labels that showed their contents. Looking at them, Yang saw a variety of infused oils, most of them olive oil based, though she saw a few specialty oils here and there, like coffee oil or cumin oil.
Her eyes were drawn to the wall, where she saw barrels containing vinegars of all makes and types. Many were made from various wines or liquors, others from fruit. Others had been infused with fruit flavors of varying types.
"Wow," said Yang. "So this is the kind of thing you like to shop for."
"Welcome," said an older woman coming out from the back of the store. She was dressed in a pale-green kimono. Her hair was a dark-grown color, with streaks of gray visible within it. Her skin was taut on her face, and Yang could see a few wrinkles here and there. Otherwise, she looked quite well for someone her age. Her green eyes had a particularly youthful sparkle to them. A bushy raccoon tail swished in her wake as she walked.
When she saw Kyo, her eyes widened. "Ah! Kyo-kun! You're back."
"Hello, Takako-san," said Kyo pleasantly.
"And you've brought a friend," said the woman, her eyes going to Yang before her smile became much more sly. "Or much more than a friend, perhaps."
"You could say that," said Kyo with a laugh. "This is my girlfriend, Yang Xiao Long. Yang, this is Takako, the owner of this shop."
"It's nice to meet you," said Yang.
"Likewise," said Takako, bowing politely. "A friend of Kyo-kun's is always welcome here."
Yang blinked in surprise. Compared to the awkward, sometimes hostile, stares Kyo had gotten in the street, this woman was exceptionally friendly, and Yang couldn't get any sense of artifice behind her friendly behavior. She seemed to genuinely like Kyo. Then again, if that's the case, that's probably one of the reasons Kyo likes this place so much.
"I have some new oils you might like," said Takako, going to one of the large tanks. "One of my suppliers is successfully cultivating white truffles."
"Ooh! That sounds wonderful!" said Kyo eagerly, following Takako to the tank. Yang followed, watching with interest as Takako poured a small amount of light-colored oil into a pair of small paper cups, which she then handed to each of them.
Yang sniffed her sample carefully, surprised to find a rich, savory scent rising from it. Sipping the oil made her stifle a gasp. Calling it delicious was an understatement. She'd heard about truffles, but had never actually tried them for herself. In the rest of the world, the only way to obtain truffles was to harvest them in the wild, usually with the assistance of specially trained pigs or dogs to sniff them out. Such efforts were endlessly complicated by the presence of the Grimm, which made truffles affordable only to the richest people. Weiss apparently loved them. But ever since her father had cut her pursestrings, she hadn't the opportunity or the means to afford them. Just tasting the rich flavor of this infused oil made Yang understand why some people were willing to brave the Grimm to harvest such an elusive item.
"It's amazing," she said.
"I'm glad you like it," said Takako, with a merry twinkle in her eye. "I actually came up with this idea for Sora-sama. She's quite partial to truffles."
"You know Kyo's mom?" asked Yang.
"She's one of my best customers," said Takako with a laugh. "That's how I came to know Kyo-kun so well. He always used to accompany his mother when she shopped here."
Maybe that's why she's so easygoing around him, thought Yang. Having known Kyo since childhood, she'd probably gotten to know him as someone more than a pair of Crimson Eyes.
With Takako as their guide, they got to sample several different oils and vinegars, all of them positively delicious. Yang had been dubious at first, but now she had to admit that she really enjoyed the experience. There were more than a few she was tempted to buy to take home with her, if only to see if she could convince Jaune to use them in his cooking.
She especially loved the different balsamic vinegars she got to taste. She'd never imagined that something as simple as vinegar could have such a rich, complex flavor, perfectly balancing sweetness with acidity, and even a faint hint of bitterness. She listened with rapt attention as Takako described the labor-intensive, years-long process involved in making the vinegar, where it was transferred from one barrel to another, over the course of a process that could last anywhere from twelve years to a hundred.
They ended up not buying anything, not that Yang could, seeing as she didn't have any of the Mibu's currency. However, Takako generously gave her a gift basket, with small bottles of some of the various oils and vinegars she had tried and really liked. Kyo had made an order on behalf of his mother to have a good-sized volume of the truffle oil shipped up to the Palace.
"I hope to see you again," said Takako, smiling warmly as she bowed them out the door.
"I'd love to come back," said Yang, smiling back.
Kyo went out first, but Takako stopped Yang with a gentle hand on her arm. She met Yang's eyes with a concerned expression. "Though I don't want to pressure you, I hope that you'll look after Kyo-kun. In all the times he's visited, I've never seen him so happy."
"I'll do my best," promised Yang.
Takako smiled again and released her arm. "Goodbye for now, and enjoy the rest of your day."
"Thank you," said Yang, bowing back to her and taking her leave. She joined Kyo in the street and allowed him to lead on.
"So, where to now?" asked Yang.
"Well...there's a lovely little cafe..." said Kyo as he proceeded to lead her down the street.
"It's been a long time," said Ozpin wistfully as he looked up at the white, marble walls of the Conference Center. The building was palatial in design, with tall, arched windows and beautifully-sculpted balconies, soaring buttresses, and even pointed towers in the corners, all made from pristine, white marble. Within the walls, one could find courtyards and gardens. There were paintings on the walls and galleries of sculptures, filled with the works of celebrated artists, honoring the end of the war that had tried to destroy everything they had worked for.
For what was essentially a glorified meeting hall, it seemed a bit much. However, the participants in the conference had spent weeks in this space. It had quarters enough to host all the dignitaries and their respective staffs in luxurious comfort, complete with the facilities necessary to support them. Beyond the building itself lay more gardens and magnificently maintained lawns, all enclosed within a perimeter wall, armed with the most advanced defensive systems currently available. Thus, this place was both a meeting hall and a fortress against the Grimm.
Such was the Vytal Conference Center, where Ozpin and two others had once hosted and moderated the talks that brought about an end to the Great War. The Conference Center was more than just a monument to that moment though. Every year, delegates from each of the Four Kingdoms assembled to renew and modify the treaties, to broker and adapt trade agreements, and to moderate disputes. A few decades after the Great War, representatives from the Four Kingdoms had met with the leaders of the faunus forces fighting in the Revolution to reach new agreements that would improve the lot of faunus the world over. It had been another historic moment, though many faunus today would argue that not all of those agreements had been fully honored.
And now, here they were again. Only, this time, the center would not be hosting the conference. Instead, it was serving as a convenient gathering point for the dignitaries from the Four Kingdoms and their respective Academies, before they made the journey into the Mibu lands.
Ozpin, somewhat to his regret, had not set foot in the halls of the Conference Center, not since the days he had helped to moderate the talks that led to the Treaty of Vytal. He considered it almost a pity that he was only visiting this time.
Glynda checked her scroll. "Councilwoman Nilam, from Vacuo, should be arriving within the hour, along with Professor Pastoria. Councilman Radcliff is already here, along with Professor Ozma."
"So we're waiting on James then," said Ozpin with a sigh.
"As a military man, I'm sure that General Ironwood will be punctual, down to the minute," said Glynda with a frown. "The real question is who he will be bringing along with him. The headmasters are bringing student delegations from their academies. Pastoria is bringing Team Indigo along with him, while Ozma has brought Team Sun. I'm a bit worried that James' delegation will be...more substantial."
"I highly doubt that he will be bringing any actual students with him," said Ozpin. "He'll probably bring along a staff of Atlesian Specialists. Hopefully Ms. Schnee is among them."
"What about Qrow?" asked Glynda.
"He sent me a message that he's already gone on ahead," said Ozpin. "I hope he doesn't stir things up too much."
"That's like hoping that rain won't be wet," muttered Glynda with a sigh.
The air filled with a low rumbling sound, and several shadows fell over the Conference Center. Looking up, Glynda and Ozpin both frowned darkly as they saw the familiar shapes of Atlesian warships passing overhead.
"It looks like James is here," said Glynda dourly. "And he's done exactly what I feared he would."
"I doubt we'll be able to talk him down," said Ozpin. "Our only hope is that the Mibu can handle this kind of display."
"From what Saisei mentioned, I suspect that this is the kind of reaction they were hoping for," said Glynda. "I think they might have bitten off more than they can chew."
To her surprise, Ozpin smiled slightly. "I wouldn't worry about that."
Blake caught up to her friends and Saisei outside a pottery store. Dougal had conveniently appeared, after she left the home of Saisei's family, to guide her to her friends. Apparently, Ren had taken a real interest after seeing the works on offer and had even been invited to watch the potters as they worked. Nora, being Nora, had lost interest fairly quickly. However, she amazed nearly everyone with her willingness to rein in her impulsiveness, when it meant letting Ren indulge in his interests. Weiss, on the other hand, was happy to examine the wares for sale, apparently examining them with a discerning eye as she compared them to the works that her own family had on display at their mansion. Like Nora, Ruby and Jaune were a little more restless. Neo just seemed happy to be out and about, looking curiously at various products, but otherwise sticking close to Saisei.
Upon arrival and exchanging greetings with her friends, Blake examined the various jars and vases for herself. They did an excellent job of showcasing the Mibu aesthetic. They were made from fired clay, often painted in subtle colors. However, the shop also had a selection of raku wares, ranging from the traditional, understated designs, to others with much more intense, and even metallic, colors. It was one of these pots that Ren was observing the making of, as the potter removed it from the kiln and placed it on a bed of shredded paper, before covering it with a metal bucket as the paper began to combust.
"The more traditional method is to remove it and allow it to cool in the open air," said Saisei as she joined Blake and Ren. "But, after potters outside its native country got ahold of the method, they experimented with different approaches to cooling it that led to the development of pottery with a variety of colors and patterns. The composition of the glaze, how much it is allowed to oxidize, whether it's cooled slowly or quickly, can lead to a wide variation. Overall, the technique is hundreds of thousands of years old."
"Incredible," said Blake, eyeing a wide pot that she thought might make a good edition to their apartment. Looking at the price, she balked. There was no way to compare the worth of ryo to lien currently, but the number of zeros on the price tag gave her the impression that the piece was fairly expensive.
Looking up and down the street, Blake saw quite a number of traditional artisans. They sold everything from umbrellas to sandals to various kinds of clothing. Once again, she was hit with the impression that Onmyo was less the capital of the Mibu Clan and more like an incredibly prosperous settlement. As busy and bustling as the streets were, they didn't compare to the level of noise that the streets of Vale exhibited, even during the Kingdom's quietest times.
"So...did your research with Chika go well?" asked Saisei as she came to stand next to Blake.
"Well enough," said Blake. "Chika went off to research something on her own."
Saisei frowned. "I hope she's not getting herself into trouble. That girl worries me at times."
"I told Sora about it," said Blake. "So she's aware of what's going on. Right now, she's asked me to help Chika, so that she can learn what she wants."
"Well, if Sora-sama knows, then I doubt there's all that much to worry about," said Saisei softly. "I won't pry. I appreciate your willingness to help on this, Belladonna-san."
"To be honest, I'm glad to," said Blake. "From what little I've learned so far, there's enough to worry me somewhat. I would rather know and be sure of what this is about than not and be blindsided."
"I understand," said Saisei.
After a few more minutes, Ren finally emerged, and the group was free to move on. They worked their way down the street, Saisei showing them various sights and shops that might catch their interest. By and large, the people were polite and friendly, though there was an undercurrent of wariness that Blake suspected came from the fact that they were outsiders. The Mibu had lived in relative isolation for centuries, their only real experience with outsiders being those outsiders who immigrated to escape persecution or other problems in the outside world. Perhaps it was only natural that they viewed these visitors with a certain degree of caution.
As they passed an intersection, Ruby noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Looking over, she broke out into a grin as she spied a familiar pair, sitting under the awning of a nearby cafe. She tapped Jaune, pointing out what she saw to him, and he did the same to Nora and so on, until the entire group, including Saisei, had taken notice.
Kyo and Yang were sat at a table, talking quietly and sipping from cups. It was hard not to notice that Yang was wearing a kimono, looking especially pretty. Nor was it hard to notice that Kyo clearly appreciated the effort she had gone through. The two of them were talking and laughing, clearly enjoying themselves.
Looking at Saisei, Ruby noticed that Kyo's old traveling companion looked especially happy. However, when she caught Ruby's eyes, she silently shook her head. "Let's move on," she said softly. "Let them have their privacy."
The others nodded and followed after Saisei as she continued to lead the way down the street. However, Ruby paused and surreptitiously used her scroll to snap a picture of Yang and Kyo before following after her friends. She silently lamented the fact that she couldn't send it to her father straight away, instead having to wait until she got back into the range of the CCT. But she'd gotten a good shot at least.
"You are going too far, James," said Glynda curtly, glaring at Ironwood. "The invitation specifically made allowances for a small escort. This is the furthest thing from small."
"I am taking into account the potential dangers of the situation," said Ironwood stubbornly. "The fact of the matter is that there are far too many unknowns when dealing with the Mibu. I have decided to strengthen the escort to take that into account."
"You have two mobile brigades, plus your own command ship," said Glynda. "This is not an escort. This is an armada! It's an invasion force. The Mibu will never allow you to bring this much firepower within their borders. And that's not even counting your 'guest.'"
"What they want is irrelevant," said Ironwood. "Their current behavior and the behavior of those that they have allowed to go abroad has clearly demonstrated that they are dangerously arrogant. They need to be reminded of how far behind the rest of the world they are, and that they had best take our will into account for any decision they make."
"Of that, you can be assured," said Ozpin. "The Mibu are indeed taking our wills into account when it comes to their decisions." He smiled at Ironwood. "However, I believe that they have no intention of simply bowing to your will because you brought more guns. You underestimate them, James."
"So you're saying that I haven't brought enough firepower?" asked Ironwood skeptically.
"No, I am saying that the amount of firepower itself will likely be irrelevant," said Ozpin. "The Mibu are not interested in a contest of arms, James."
"Then there is no reason to contest the forces I have decided to bring," said Ironwood. "If this discussion is over, then we should be on our way if we want to be on time for the events the Mibu have scheduled."
Ozpin sighed softly and adjusted his spectacles. "Yes," he said. "By all means, let us be on our way."
Yang smiled as she rested her head on Kyo's shoulder. The two of them reclined under a tree, its position on a hill overlooking the city giving them a magnificent view as they watched the sun dip towards the horizon. After touring the city a little more, Yang and Kyo had visited a restaurant Kyo was familiar with for a quiet dinner, before returning to the open parks and gardens of the noble district to lounge as they watched the day come to its end.
It made Yang glad to see that, even though most people regarded him with a great deal of caution, Kyo had made a few friends amongst the regular citizens of the city. But the strange looks that they had been bombarded with still bothered her a little. At least there was no one like that out here. After leaving the city proper, they hadn't come across a single person in their wanderings, leaving Yang free to direct her focus to enjoying Kyo's company.
"So...as dates go, how was this one?" asked Kyo.
"Well, I haven't actually been on all that many," said Yang. "But this one was wonderful. I had a great time."
"I'm glad," said Kyo. "I don't have much experience myself. But I'm happy that I was able to share some of my favorite places with you."
"We should do this again," said Yang. "To be honest, I really like these kinds of dates. But maybe next time, we should hit up a pub."
"Uh...I'm not sure about that," said Kyo, his reluctance surprising Yang.
"Why not?" asked Yang. "You like to drink, don't you?"
"Yes...well...I'm not exactly a welcome guest at any of the pubs or taverns around here," said Kyo with a resigned sigh.
"Why not?" asked Yang. She'd noticed that Kyo's friends, few as they were, represented a variety of people, from shop owners to restauranteurs. She found it hard to believe that Kyo couldn't at least befriend one or two bar or pub owners.
"Well, this is where people's attitudes towards me tend to become an issue," said Kyo. "It's one thing in the street when it's limited to looks and mutterings. But, in a bar or tavern, where alcohol is served and inhibitions are lowered, people become more inclined to act on their hostility."
"Oh," said Yang, seeing his point.
"Unfortunately, on the few occasions I've tried to go out to such a place with my friends here, they have inevitably resulted in violence," said Kyo. "Under normal circumstances, I don't mind all that much. But the owners of those establishments do. Even if my family covers the damages, they can't really do all that much about the profits lost from those places having to close to make repairs, and the overall inconvenience of it all. Because of that, an assembly of bar, tavern, and pub owners appealed to my parents, asking that I not enter their establishments. So...I'm essentially banned."
"That's awful!" exclaimed Yang. "How could they do that for something that isn't even your fault?"
To her surprise, Kyo grinned sheepishly. "I think you're forgetting the kind of person I am when there's a fight to be had," he said nervously. "And, though I take a certain amount of pride in my tolerance, my inhibitions can be loosened too. It's easy for me to get carried away, even if it's just for self-defense."
"Oh...that's right," said Yang in a deadpan tone. Kyo's congenial nature made it easy to forget that, beneath that, there lay the heart of a true fighter, someone who enjoyed combat, especially when it involved risking his life.
"Besides," said Kyo, "given the losses they suffer from the damage caused by such incidents, I can't exactly blame them."
"I guess not," said Yang.
"Not that we can't have some fun of our own," said Kyo. "The Palace has several cellars, with an extensive collection of liquors and spirits that come from all over the region. Anything that's available in any of the local establishments, we have at the Palace. So we can easily just get our friends together for an evening of drinking there."
"That works too," said Yang with a sigh, still feeling somewhat disappointed that she couldn't hit the bars with Kyo. She supposed that, if he came back to Vale with them, she could take him to a bar in Vale, especially now that they didn't have to worry about the bounty that had been on his head.
Kyo reached over and rested his hand on hers, gently squeezing it. "Don't worry," he said. "As long as it's with you, I think just about any activity would be enjoyable."
Yang nodded and closed her eyes, once again letting her head rest against his shoulder. "Yeah, I feel the same way," she said.
At this point, I would like to reiterate my reminder that this was written before Volume 4 was very far along, to say nothing of Volume 5. When it comes to the Headmasters of the other Academies, Ozpin and Ironwood aside, they are characters of my own invention, and actually stem from a personal theory I had come up with, regarding the Academy heads, back around Volume 3ish. Simply put, going along with the Wizard of Oz theme that persisted with Ozpin and his allies, I came up with the characters of Professor Pastoria and Professor Ozma, the Headmasters of Shade and Haven, respectively. I'll elaborate more on them in later chapters.
I also inserted some of my personal interests into this chapter. I enjoy visiting stores that sell those different kinds of infused oils and vinegars, though I tend not to make it a regular thing, mainly because I often leave without buying anything, so it doesn't feel fair to the owners for me to come in, sample a bunch of their products, then leave without spending a cent. I also have a mild interest in raku pottery, mostly thanks to watching the demonstrations whenever our state Renaissance Fair comes around.