May 22, 2020 marks my sixteenth TeniPuri anniversary. I fell hard and fast but could never have expected I would come to love this series so much and for so long. Happy anniversary, part two.

To everyone who has read this story to the end, thank you very much. With my love and gratitude, here is the final chapter for Sea of Hidden Dragon.

Chapter 22

[05.22.2020]

A gentle hand brushed back his hair. A warm hand like his mother's, except her hand had been thinner and not so callused. His eyelids were heavy, and it would be so nice to drift for a bit...

A voice called to him with the cadence of spring rain. But he was not ready to answer the call yet. The darkness cocooning him was soothing. Serene, like a night with full moon and still waters.

"Are you awake, Seiichi?"

Yukimura tried to open his eyes, then immediately shut them tight as light assailed them. He tried again, slower this time, and was successful at keeping them open. As his eyes focused, a familiar face swam into view. "I think I must be now," he croaked. Or tried to, his words stuck in a badly parched throat. A hand cradled his head, a cup of water at placed at his lips. The water was cool and sweet, and after a few swallows, he found his voice. "Renji."

Yanagi gave him a relieved smile. "Glad to have you back."

"What—" A flash of awareness, and this one froze him to the bones. "Genichirou!"

"He's fine. You can relax." Yanagi helped him sit up and draped another robe around his shoulders. "He's getting his wounds seen to. Honestly, the pair of you. I don't know which one's worse, between you and Genichirou. Having only one of our leaders be so reckless – is that too much to ask?"

"What happened?" Then, more urgently he added, "The battle? Tezuka?"

Yanagi nodded to himself with a humming sound. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Sound of battle. The glint of Sanada's sword. Seeing Sanada go down. Running. The arrow in his hand, the tension of his bowstring, so natural no conscious thought was needed to guide his movement.

And another arrow, its deadly tip aimed at his own throat. Blue eyes, alight with the promise of death, packaged in blue kingfisher feather.

"Seeing Genichirou go down. Shooting Tezuka. Aiming again. Fuji aiming at me." He had no memory after that. "What happened?"

Yanagi patted his hand. "From what I gather, you both shot at the same time. A mast fell on top of you at that moment." After a brief pause, Yanagi continued. "Genichirou pushed you out of the way. He took Fuji's arrow to his side, but his life isn't in danger."

There was something more, something Yanagi wasn't saying. "And?"

Yanagi studied him, then let out a long sigh. "Genichirou's knee – you saw Tezuka's attack land, didn't you? You knew what it meant or you wouldn't have interfered in the middle of their fight."

"No," he said, but more in despair than denial.

Yanagi's hand was on his shoulder, comforting. "He'll regain some use of that leg, but..." Yanagi gave a light squeeze. "Even with that knee, Genichirou still managed to move in time to save you," he noted, and couldn't quite hide the thread of admiration.

"And Tezuka?"

Yanagi gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. "I know your skill with the bow, Seiichi. He wouldn't have made it out alive. I've got our men searching just in case, but if we haven't found anything yet, we're not going to." Yanagi stopped, then went on in a quieter voice. "Most of Seishun's fleet managed to slip past while we were dealing with Tezuka's flagship. We lost about a quarter of our fleet to the fire, but not nearly as many soldiers. Seishun's ships were interested only in escaping us, not engaging our forces. And they did not hesitate even when Tezuka's ship collided into ours. Tezuka must have planned the whole thing that way from the start."

There was a long pause. When Yanagi spoke again, there was respect in his expression. "I didn't see through it, even though I was there during the tournament when Tezuka almost destroyed his arm for Seishun."

Everything for Seishun, even his own life. Certainly not a typical attitude for a leader.

"Tezuka, he..." Yukimura kept his eyes fixed on his lap. "He could have opposed me in a different way, a safer way. Like Atobe, like Shiraishi. Instead, he challenged me directly, like Genichirou would have, because he had honor. And had our places been exchanged, he probably would not have sought to destroy me the way I did to him."

Yanagi did not answer, which gave Yukimura the confirmation he did not really need.

"We survived many battles and became strong, the strongest in the empire. But – I forgot to feel for my opponents, when you and Genichirou didn't. I was beginning to forget to care even for my own team. You were more worried about Akaya's increasingly violent outbursts than I was." Yukimura felt a lump in his throat and forced out the words. "Do you think it's unjust, that I won?"

He could feel Yanagi's eyes on him but did not meet them. After several heartbeats, Yanagi replied. "No. If there are two dragons, only one can dominate the sea. Or neither will be able to ascend to the sky."

"How do we know if the one that survived is the right one? The better one?"

"That is not for us to decide. One makes it to the sea and the other doesn't – but the opposite could have happened just as easily. Perhaps it's simple chance. Or maybe it's fate."

"Now you believe in fate?" His best friend's usual practical rationalism and the sudden turn to romance were difficult to reconcile. "You, my master tactician?"

"Perhaps fate is not the right word. But there are things that happen completely outside my calculations. Like that wind."

Yukimura couldn't help a faint sigh that escaped him. "I see."

"But in the end, we have chosen you." At that, he turned his glance to Yanagi, who raised an eyebrow at him. "Would you tell us, tell Genichirou, that we have chosen wrong?"

Yanagi's gentleness made him swallow, gratitude surging in his breast. He hadn't questioned his choices in a long time, because in a way, he couldn't afford to harbor any doubts about himself or his path. And Yukimura still believed his vision was right. But perhaps, in his relentless drive to realize that vision, he'd lost the clarity of sight to judge whether his path was also the right one.

"No." Taking a deep breath, Yukimura lifted his head. "I won't forget again," Yukimura replied, the steel of promise sheathed in the soft voice.

Yanagi's lips took on a subtle curve, and though he did not say anything, Yukimura felt the palpable warmth of Yanagi's approval. "The remainder of Seishun's fleet is probably headed to Rokkaku, but I doubt Rokkaku is their final destination. With the storm season coming soon, it will be difficult to pursue."

Yukimura took the hint for what it was. "With Tezuka gone, Seishun's fleet is of little concern now. We still have a war going, which may escalate to a bigger conflict should Beikoku join the fray. We will focus on Ro movement."

"You know what others will suggest, with so many of Tezuka's core team having survived. Particularly Tezuka's young protégé." Yanagi's tone was scrupulously neutral.

"Ah," Yukimura breathed, settling back against his pillows. "Yagyuu more than Niou, scarily enough." Yanagi was silent, his expression unchanged. "As much as I agree it's best to nip a problem in the bud, if we did that, who would Akaya play with?"

Yanagi's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. "Seiichi."

"The thing is," Yukimura started, his tone thoughtful. "I think Tezuka was willing to sacrifice his own life because of that boy. Not out of sentiment, but because he felt as long as Echizen survived to lead his team forward, Seishun will live on even if he didn't." Yanagi did not dispute his words, waiting patiently, and Yukimura resumed. "Akaya is my heir as Echizen is Tezuka's heir. If Echizen lives, then Akaya will have a reason to become stronger. Fuji uncovered the true extent of Akaya's potential; now I want Echizen to nurture it to full bloom."

Yanagi nodded, visibly satisfied. "Akaya's always done better with tangible goals than abstract ones. Very well. I will relay your decision to our team."

"Thank you, Renji."

When the Empress entered, the Emperor was sitting up on his bed dressed in a white sleeping robe. The Emperor nodded to her, and waved a hand at the attendants congregated at the door. "That will be all. Leave us. All of you."

It was obvious that the command included the Empress's attendants, who looked to their mistress for confirmation. She had been in his chambers so rarely that she felt like a stranger, or perhaps even an intruder. But she was the Empress, and she would show no uncertainty before anyone. She gave them a curt nod, at which her attendants bowed and left.

"You'll forgive me that I do not rise to greet you."

The Empress turned to face her husband, noting the translucent quality of his skin, the weariness of his shoulders, the fragility brought on by his age. "You look tired," she commented, coming by the bedside to take a gilded chair.

"Everything takes so much out of you when you're decrepit. I'm sure everyone will be very relieved when I'm finally replaced by someone younger."

Any soft feelings she might have entertained evaporated at the jab. "You asked for me."

The look the Emperor gave her was one she used to hate. A superior, sly look, one that said he was sitting on top of her head no matter what she tried to pull over his eyes. But his words, when they came, caught her by surprise. "Yes. That's the look I found so interesting. You were different from anyone I'd ever met. And how refreshingly frank. You never thought to hide what you thought of me or what I do."

She couldn't help frowning at him. Where was he going with this?

"I don't claim what I feel for you is the stuff of romantic legend. Hearts work differently than minds do. But I can tell you in truth that you have been my only true wife."

"What else would I be?"

Her sarcasm used to provoke further needling. But today, he surprised her again. "Come now, my dear Empress. Time for deception is long past. Let us both lay them all out, so to speak."

"It would save us time," she agreed, deciding now was not the time to point out deception was more his game than hers.

"First of all, although I doubt Rikkai managed to destroy all of Seishun's fleet, Rikkai has emerged the undisputed victor of this fight. Seishun and its young general, if he survived, will not be a player on this stage for some time. So I must ask: what now?"

"My adopted son must be named the heir," the Empress stated pointedly.

The Emperor nodded. "Assuredly, now that my boy is well and out of your reach."

The Empress stared at him, realization swiftly dawning on her. "You always meant to confirm Prince Masara as your heir."

"He is a bright child. And, as many people have taken pains to tell me repeatedly, a twelve-year-old is better than a three-year-old on the throne." Wizened eyes twinkled at her. "I trust your judgment. I always have. But wise as you are, I had my doubts when it came to a woman's jealousy. Can you tell me in truth my son would have survived the first year of Masara's reign if he stayed?"

"I would have protected him," the Empress countered sharply, stung. "I am not heartless, nor a wild beast so consumed with jealousy as to harm a child, unfit to be called a human."

"Perhaps you would have. I thought it best to remove the temptation nonetheless. Virtue is so much easier to uphold when temptations are not so readily accessible. And besides which – would you have known even a moment's peace with two heirs under one roof? Even if my son poses no temptation for you, he would for others. Our vassals fancy themselves kingmakers, but the final choice should always rest in our own hands."

"You want me to keep your son to control them. To control even Masara." She had already seen the value of Seishun as a check against Rikkai's growing influence. It didn't take much imagination to add the young prince to the equation. Nevertheless, it was a bit shocking that the Emperor himself would suggest such a measure, as if he considered his own beloved son to be nothing more than a game piece on a chessboard.

The Emperor sighed. "No game piece is left on the board unless necessary for the game. Even we of the imperial family are no exceptions." There was that hint of fragility again, one that tugged at her heartstrings and made her want to believe him despite their fraught history. "I am old. You will be the sole caretaker of the throne soon. I know you already understand the dangers of that position. Particularly when your chosen heir is so gifted. Intelligence and strength can so easily be turned into ambition. When your son grows recalcitrant to your counsels, you will remember he already has an heir, a rival for his throne. So will he." The Emperor reached for her hand, and for the first time since the Lady of Green Pavilion became the imperial favorite, she did not pull away. "And when Rikkai grows too large, it too will remember it has a rival, alive and growing strong again. Was that not your plan in the first place? Otherwise, you would never have granted Yamato the necessary funds to send reinforcement to aid the young general."

The Empress gave a demure inclination of her head. "I suppose."

"However, I admit I was rather surprised. I expected Yamato would make his move." The Emperor peered at the Empress's face, eyes piercing as ever, but pleased. It occurred to the Empress then that even with the generous financial assistance she had provided, the ease and speed with which Yamato procured twenty warships should have perhaps been suspect. "I didn't expect your nephew would come visit you. But the greatest surprise of all was that you agreed to help them even at the risk of losing Rikkai's support."

The Emperor's brows quirked briefly in an open invitation, and the Empress, after a minute of consideration, took it. "When that child came to see me, it occurred to me that his younger brother is now betrothed to the young Lady Tachibana. Through them, I have a link to Shitenhouji and Hyoutei, which will serve me well in the future even if his betrothal is broken." She met his eyes, a glitter of satisfaction in her dark gaze. "You've taught me well, my husband. Rikkai is powerful, but only a fool would become overly dependent on one ally. If not Seishun, then another counterweight is needed against Rikkai."

"Then, we are in agreement. Prince Masara will be confirmed as the Crown Prince in two weeks' time. You will be officially named his guardian in my place, and Atobe Keigo made his future regent. Now that Hyoutei managed to forge an alliance with both Shitenhouji and Fudomine, that should keep Rikkai contained to a reasonable size even after the end of this war."

"What of Tokugawa and Irie?" The Empress's smooth brows creased. "You must know they serve their own purpose, not ours."

"I do not seek to control all of my vassals, merely to balance them. Power is like water. Cup your hand, and you will hold water. Make a fist, and water will slip through your fingers."

The Empress laughed, clear and amused. "I will keep that in mind."

"And what of your nephew? A most interesting boy. I rather hoped he'd make it back."

She dropped her gaze. "I don't know," she replied quietly. "Like mother, like children. I hoped he'd turn out more sensible than his mother or sister."

"More like you?" the Emperor asked, but not unkindly. She let out a wordless sigh. More gently, her husband continued. "Could it be true, dear wife, that you love them precisely because they are not like you?"

The Empress looked up, meeting her husband's surprisingly understanding eyes. Her voice was reflective, honest when she spoke again. "Probably. I'm not like my sister. I could never choose something so uncertain as love over everything else. I do not understand how anyone can abandon their whole world for another person. Not then, and not now. So yes, perhaps I love them because they can."

"The heart does what it wants to do, no matter what you tell it. You may yet find that out for yourself. You are still young." She must have looked scandalized or disgusted, or perhaps both, because he laughed, short but sincere. "Don't close any doors yet, dear wife. Life may have more surprises in store for you. But back to the subject of your nephew. He was betrothed to the Lady Yukimura, was he not? I imagine Lord Yukimura isn't pleased about the way this turned out, especially after you've helped Seishun at your nephew's behest."

"I imagine not." A sudden inspiration struck her. "That's why I will offer him an alternative arrangement."

"Oh?"

"My son."

The Emperor raised both brows at that. "Well. That ought to get his attention."

She smiled. "I think the Lady Yukimura might be a good balance. For Prince Masara, and for her brother."

It was his turn to smile. The Emperor pressed her hand, with affection she did not doubt for once, and nodded. "As you wish. Though you may find your daughter-in-law not quite so easy to control."

"Must I seek to control everything, dear husband?"

"No, my dear lady," the Emperor answered, and leaned back. "I see now I need not fear for this empire after my death. You will be a strong and able ruler. And the brilliant youngsters we have from our dominions – one should be so lucky to have but one or two of those in a generation. We counted the days of the Shitennou blessed, but we may be even more fortunate in our young leaders. This empire will live and prosper yet, my dear Empress. It'll do."

"Anything?"

The soldier in Rikkai uniform shook his head. "Nothing here, sir."

"Well, if we find nothing, then that's that. I'll go report to Lord Yanagi." The sergeant scratched his chin. "Still... You'd think we'd at least find the bodies. We recovered a great deal of the wreckage."

The soldier shrugged. "The Dragon must have claimed them."

"Hmm."

On the surface of nearby water drifted pieces of wood in varying sizes, the shattered remains of Seishun and Rikkai flagships mingled in their mutual demise. One piece was long and thick and round, tangled in broken battens and torn pieces of waterlogged sailcloth – a mast.

Embedded in the mast, unnoticed by anyone, was an arrow. Its tip had pinned another arrow by the shaft, breaking it in half. Of the broken arrow only half its intricately carved shaft and the black fletching remained. The arrow that had split the other in two, also gracefully carved, had survived intact.

On the tail of the arrow, its fletching, white as snow, gleamed in the sunlight striking the water.

Spring of the following year, on shores of Kushiro

The fortified castle of Kushiro soared above the sheer cliff like a black swan in flight. The seashore was washed in pale gold, limned with cresting blue waves. Not far from the beach, a whaleboat pushed through the waves, guided by lone rower whose face was hidden under a wide conical hat. Inside the boat were a sturdy staff and a bow, at once utilitarian and elegant. A quiver was propped up next to them, full of arrows fletched in snow white egret feathers. A song, sung in a beautiful androgynous voice, drifted from the boat as it moved towards a waiting ship. It was a merchant vessel, flying no colors or devices above its plain battened sails, the shapes of two onlookers visible on its deck.

On the beach stood two figures, watching as the whaleboat rowed away. The taller of the two had his left arm in a sling. The shorter one, waving at the whaleboat, wore a sheath with a bow, much like that of the rower, but more ornate. Attached to the sheath was a quiver of arrows, fletched with blue kingfisher feathers.

As the rower's song faded in the distance, the two figures on the beach reached for each other's hand, fingers lacing together. Slowly, they started to walk toward the castle of Kushiro.

The sky was an endless stretch of azure, dusted with feathery clouds above. The air was cool, the chill of the fading winter lingering in its breath. But across the sandy dunes, sea grass sprouted, green with the promise of spring.

And the sea, full of secrets and promises, caressed the shore with a rhythm as old as life.

END OF BOOK IV: BATTLE FOR THE SKY

THE END

Check out the Archive of Our Own version this story for the special artworks!

Extra special love and heartfelt gratitude to all those who commented – at times, you were all that kept me going.

And a special thank-you to my dear friend Neu, for all her artistic inspiration, feedback, much-needed corrections and encouragement, without which Sea of Hidden Dragon would not be what it is today. Thank you, my dear friend.

Speaking of inspiration: the wildly popular but famously unhistorical Korean drama, Queen Seondeok. And two amazing manhwa epics, Ms. Kim Hye-Rin's Sword of Fire and Ms. Shin Il-Sook's Lineage. And probably quite obvious in Chapter 21 – the Romance of the Three Kingdoms by Luo Guanzhong, a favorite since my childhood.

Thank you for reading.