TWO

Disrespectfully

AZURA LIKED TO THINK OF EVERYTHING AS A BATTLE and this went especially for speaking to her grandfather. He had always been against everything she wanted to do, but as her father made his valid point that, "if she must learn, I'd rather she learned in the safety of our house instead of with the back alley street thugs."

By back alley street thugs, Azura knew he meant the low born Mist ninja Tadoichi Kuni. She was often told that everything she did was done with the intention of spite for the Shao family. This went especially for befriending a boy whose name literally meant 'country born'. Still, while subconsciously that might be true, Azura actually liked Kuni.

He was funny and that was something low born people got right when making fun of nobles. They really were not funny. At least not conventionally funny.

"Did you hear Lord Tamuri was to marry his daughter off to that of a Reichi clan member," Sato Emika said in a whisper from across the room to her sister. The Sato sisters were the definition of aristocratic perfection. They knew all the gossip, they knew all the methods for sewing, and more than that, they were thrilled for their own respective marriages that were forced upon them.

Well, of course, they didn't see it as a bad thing. "I am not you, Azura-san. I actually know my place," Emika had said to her once, and the words still sometimes rang in her eardrums like that of a drumming burst of violence. Azura nearly stabbed herself with the memory. Literally and figuratively considering she almost punctured her thumb with the needle, forcing her to move away from sewing yet another rose onto the circular cloth.

Still, an injury was the the fastest way out of a lesson. When she discovered that, she became known in Emika's circle as the 'lady of scabs'.

"Oh dear. Reichi is new money," Sato Setsumi agreed with a very prominent frown. New money was a slander in their community. Of course, Azura would rather be new money than no money, but in the eyes of the aristocracy, new money was fleeting.

"They don't yet know how to build something that lasts," Azura's mother had informed her.

"How humiliating for poor, dear Aoi-chan," Ito Kagura agreed. That was when the three began to laugh as if the prospect was somehow very funny. When they noticed Azura was not laughing, they turned to look at the indifferent woman with a raise of their brows. "What do you think, Azura-chan?"

"I think," Azura began, sending a swift, but somehow still icy, smile. "I am more worried about the unrest among the citizens. Did you know that the rise of poverty has tripled in the last five years?"

Kagura frowned, the other girls following suit. "Azura, you really have to stop saying things like that. It's depressing." Emika told her, making her annoyance very clear. Azura's jaw clenched, an action that made her know it was no good for her teeth due to the fact she already grinds them in her sleep.

"Depressing?" Azura glanced out the window, watching the beautiful sand garden through the fog of the mist village. She was already exhausted, but she promised her mother that she would dedicate, at the very least, an hour of her day to her lessons.

"Compromise, Azura. If you want to be taken seriously, you must participate with the girls."

The clock was ticking by, but it was happening too slow and she knew that the minute hand couldn't reach twelve fast enough for her to be satisfied. She went through her lessons in her mind: breathe in, breathe out, don't say anything, be poise, calm. She thought of the river, the way it flowed and glided down stream, wishing she could be like those waters. Of course, she could not. As her grandfather loved to remind her, she was like the wind. An uncontainable wind who didn't obey his orders.

"Yes, you're right. It is depressing," she agreed, finally managing to contain her wind. She had learned a long time ago that it was no use arguing with them. Azura could drag the three girls by their wrists to see exactly how terrible the conditions for the poorest citizens of Kirigakure, and still they'd only see how dirty the trip had made their robes.

The worst aspect of it all wasn't even that they were too ignorant to understand what Azura was talking about. Rather, it was like they had created shutters around their field of vision that stopped them from even caring about it. Azura had shattered her own shutters many years ago, and no matter how she attempted to put them back together, she could still see through the cracks.

"I heard that Tetsua-sama has made his intentions to your lord Daimyō," Setsumi said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled after Emika's very effective disinterest of the lower class.

Kagura continued her brushing of calligraphy, creating yet another haiku that no one would ever want to read. Azura had long since abhorred poetry. She had learned at a young age that most of the activities that she was told to enjoy, she was more likely to dislike. Perhaps it was a small act of rebellion, especially since she was allowed to say no so rarely.

The cold night blows still

They prattle with annoying shrill

Seppuku me please

Azura snorted, wondering what her tutor, Ume, would think if she read all her poetry. She doubted she could take yet another lecture on conducting herself with respect. "Another marriage proposal?" Azura hid the annoyance from her voice, but it might have slipped in due to the fact that she was the last to hear about it.

The girl tried to steer clear of gossip, but in doing so, she became the last to know the path in which fate wishes to direct her. Marriage was out of the question. Of course, Azura wasn't foolish enough to believe that she would ever get to marry for 'love', as her mother had told her "love is for children, Azura. You are a Shao."

Still, that didn't mean Azura was not inclined to desire of the option of choosing with who she'd spend the rest of her life. She was getting older. She knew how age worked, despite her grandfather telling her that soon no one would want her. Perhaps that was why no one saw fit to tell her about a proposal, and wished to give her no option of declining a match. The thought brought a spike of anger into her heart.

The clock ticked at 12, and Azura stood up on the dot, spilling a bottle of ink over her offensive haiku. It was unintentional, but the girls all gasped.

"Spilling ink is a bad omen, Azura!" Emika said, her robes creasing as she stood up next.

Azura wanted to scowl, but she didn't want them to cry at her anger. "I will be on the lookout for any misfortune." Her lips thinned, sparing one last glance over to the ink before she continued out of the room. The last thing she needed was bad luck right before she took her concerns to her grandfather. Her slippers nearly tripped over the crack in between the opening of the door, but due to her swift reflexes, she managed to stop her own robes from making her fall.

The hallway was filled with ruckus, with servants rushing about their tasks, all careful not to make eye contact. When she had been younger, that brought an indescribable anger into her chest. "Look at me!"

"Young mistress, I am so sorry for displeasing you. Please, I am unworthy." One of the housemaids had replied, bowing low and still not looking at her. Azura had learned not to question it. There was no use befriending people who believed that they were unworthy to meet her eyes.

"Is grandfather in his study?" Azura had asked, her eyes slanted and narrow. The man, in his arms a stockpile of scrolls, glanced at her feet.

"Yes, my lady. If that is all," he bowed, rushing away from her. Azura didn't hesitate to walk forward, escaping from the cluttering halls and rushing outside where the swift wind slammed against her cheeks. She took a breath of relief, for despite the chill, she at least wasn't suffocating under the eyes that watched her every step. She continued down the polished mahogany engawa that wrapped around the estate. The shoji coverings all blurred past her fast enough to make her realize that she was rushing.

"Riot yet again?"

"It's the new taxes."

"Ah. Quiet. It's lady Azura." The two men quieted their whispers from the open shoji. They were high ranking council members, casually speaking of politics from open doors. Azura didn't pay them anymore heed, mostly due to indifference and the fact that they ceased their talk in front of her yet again.

She had already traveled a good length of the engawa by the time she found her grandfather's study. She took a deep breath, lowering to a bow on the ground. With her forehead pressed against the wood, she knocked against the floor three times.

"I see you've heard. Come in, Azura." The lord Daimyō's voice was deep and exasperated, despite the fact she had yet to state herself. Her silhouette visible through the paper barrier. She stood up, opening and closing the sliding door behind her.

"Honorable grandfather," she greeted, allowing herself to lose a moment of pride as she once more bowed to him.

"If you're here about Tetsua-san," her grandfather said, glancing up through his papers. "You need'nt fear."

"You rejected him?" Azura knew her show of relief would be unwelcome, so refrained from doing such. Tetsua was a vile sort, and twenty-five years her senior. She knew, just like all the others, they didn't see her, but instead her name.

"I will not be responsible for combining that of a Tao with a Shao," Junmiro told her, his eyes narrow. "You dare think me so willing to dishonor you?"

The only dishonor is that Tetsua couldn't allow me the curtesy of rejecting him on my own. Azura could not voice her thoughts, and like every other unvoiced concern, she locked it away. "Yes. Tetsua would not be my first choice in a match."

Junmiro's eyes filled with a swift anger. "It is about time you realize that you have no choice. I have already chosen your husband."

Azura's hands were hidden under the table, so he was unable to see how they clenched. She had not heard of any other suiters who appealed to her grandfather. Her heart had already stopped and had she not trained her expression, it might have become obvious of her displeasure.

Junmiro, satisfied at her silence, continued. Still, his voice was dripping with honey and a warmth that he only used when he wished to appeal to her. "He is a strong man. From a good family. You will bare hearty sons."

"Who?" Azura didn't know where she got the strength to speak, but her voice managed to escape her lips.

"Oda Kenpachi," he finally said, but he still barely looked at her from over the forms in his hands. This, Azura knew, was due to the disinterest in the conversation. To her grandfather, it was merely his kindness that he even discuss this with her. If he had his way, Azura would only realize she was getting married moments before she actually attended the ceremony.

Still, Oda's name cut through her heart. A bad omen Emika had warned. This was it.

Breathe in, Azura. Breathe out.

"Oda Kenpachi," Azura said, finally raising her voice. She chided herself for the outburst, but her adrenaline was pumping out the worries from her blood. "Grandfather, you must reconsider."

He looked at her, setting down the scroll with a shine in his eyes that warned Azura of his temper. "Reconsider?" He slammed his palms against the table, causing the wood to rattle. "You dare speak to me of reconsidering?"

"He is scum," Azura said, and she could hear the disparity in her own voice. She tore it out and reorganized herself. She refused to give him leverage. If she got emotional, it gave her grandfather power. "Oda Kenpachi is a murderer."

"He is a war hero. His name would do nothing but honor you," he snapped, his own anger digging into his voice. "Need I remind you that I allowed your rejection of your last suitors. I have been kind, for the love I bare you. Oda is your fate and your duty as a Shao."

Her nails were digging into her skin. She dared not look down at the blood that was likely dripping from her palms. It was a terrible outlet to anger, but fitting for the 'lady of scabs'. "You speak of destiny?" Shut up Azura. Appeal to him. "My destiny is what? Bare the Shao family a son. That cannot be all I am good for lord Daimyō. If you marry me to a man like Oda, grandfather, will I be nothing more that a prized goat to the Shao family?"

Junmiro's face had already begun to redden, but it was unbecoming for a Daimyō to strike a fully grown lady. It didn't mean he was unable, but rather, she had yet to provoke him enough to raise his hand. "That is your place. I will not have this conversation with you again. Your sisters are married, but by right, your son would my heir. I have been kind to give you this time, but you are a child no longer. You will marry Oda Kenpachi. You will give the Shao family a son. You will cease this foolish notion that you have a choice."

Azura was reminded of the river. She was reminded of how it flowed so beautifully, sustaining the life it touches. I am not a river. "If you wish for me to marry Oda Kenpachi, grandfather, I will obey."

Junmiro took a deep breath, leaning back and relaxing his hands. His face returned to a serene warmth that Azura knew to be fleeting. She wanted to reach over and strangle him, but that would be unwise. If she tried to fight him on this, all the compromises would be for nothing. Despite all she had managed to win, he still had the ability to mold her into Sato Emika. Her fate could only grow worse.

"But I want something in return," she said, and chiding herself on her wording. Judging by her grandfather's palpable anger, he too was displeased with her words. Still, it didn't matter how she said it, his feelings on her request would be the same. "I want a position on your council."

As if she had told a joke, her grandfather let out a bark of laughter. She raised a brow, attempting to remember her meditations. "A position? What an amusing exchange for your obedience." Junmiro had scolded his daughter and her husband for allowing Azura so much power. He believed that if she would not obey, then to punish her until she did as she was told. He scoffed at the notion of a lady learning how to wield a blade, a lady wishing to add economics to her lessons, a lady wishing to learn all she could about the state of affairs in the Mist. Still, Shao Yuki had been firm.

"Azura can learn from us, in my way, or she can find a way to learn from others. This way, we can at least control what it is she knows," Yuki had told him that day. Junmiro, a man known for rigidity, had bent. Now, look at where his leniency had gotten him. An unwed granddaughter with callouses on her hands as if she were a peasant. A motherless granddaughter who dared make demands and ultimatums with him.

Still, Yuki had been, in a sense, correct in her assumption that Azura would only act out if completely restricted, so he thought instead to amuse her to an extent of his choosing.

"I want a role." Azura was firm, deciding against flowering her language. "I am qualified. I am formally trained. I could do so much more than make tea and write haiku."

Junmiro sighed, wishing nothing more than to take a long sip of sake. He wished, at that moment, for his late wife's steady heart. For at least his beloved Shao Baozhai would have never allow her granddaughter such free reign. No, my beloved would have never stood for Azura's speech as well.

Baozhai, however, was no longer here and he was left alone to reign in the disobedience of his granddaughter.

"A role?" Junmiro was seething, but he had learned from the past that if he snapped, Azura would turn feral. They would scream and then nothing would be handled correctly.

"Let me manage something small. Insignificant. Let me answer the letters you are too busy to approach. Let me have a look at your ledgers. Anything. Let me earn my chance to show you that I am more than just a goat," she said, and Azura knew, had she been born with a dick, she wouldn't even have to ask. She would be well on her way to the next Daimyō, but instead, even with her talents, she was begging for scraps.

"If I allow this," Junmiro said, not quite agreeing, but to Azura, this was enough to make the weight upon her shoulders lesson to the point where it might not crush her. "You will marry Oda Kenpachi."

"Give me a position and Oda Kenpachi will have my hand," Azura said this through knitted brows and a clenched jaw. Her grandfather finally smiled, pouring Azura a freshly prepared cup of green tea, signaling a deal well struck.

Still, as she watched the steam rise from the cup, Azura couldn't help but feel that she just signed away her future over a hot cup of tea.