oh btw im doing this for nanowrimo
i was going back over the old chapters to refreshen my memories (sorry for not updating... i feel highly ashamed) and found not one but three more chapters I had written but never uploaded. I was going to load them straight up but i cringed at the writing.
tl;dr the award for waiting for so long for an update is that the writing improves dramatically. (although i wouldn't say it's any award-winning writing rn, its just better)
She caught sight of them, painted on the horizon like an omnipresent entity, the dark rock a scrape against the snow white. In a painting of greys and whites, the Three Wolves broke the skyline, a broken pattern that her eyes always got caught on.
Iron was reminiscent of the cold winters of Japan's mountainous areas, where locals battled against snow mid-autumn. The great trees with needle-like leaves where unrecognisable under a thick layer of snow and ice, the edges of the road vanishing under metres of snow.
In this environment, the naturally-formed land mark that was the Three Wolves could be seen from every direction; four of the largest cities spread across Iron Country used this as the central point, and even the ninjas used the grand rock formation as neutral land.
Of the four major cities the Suiei clan would only visit Southern Capital, the closest to the border. Special amenities for the clan peppered the land surrounding the Southern Capital, including a stadium solely used by their performances. The edges were decorated with the clan emblem interspaced with the current Shogun's family crest, this continuous pattern repeating not only on the exterior but along the audience barriers, seats, and architectural supports such as arches and beams.
Oniyuri ran her hands across the emblems, gaze dropping from the sight of three gaping maws she could just define between the trees, to watch the multitude of clan members scattered across the stadium as they calmly but hurriedly cleaned the dust and dirt that had collected over the last five years.
She ran one finger over the Shogun's crest, an oval with jaggered edges, perhaps to replicate the maws of the wolves on the horizon, before sliding off the seat. Ajisan, who sat next to her, made a noise of question, but she waved off his concerns with the Korean baby-care book. Oniyuri had gone over it with a fine-tooth comb for what felt like the tenth time, and she was pretty sure she could remember what it said.
Oniyuri needed more books; she had finished all of them excluding the Thai and ninja book. The ninja book posed several complications that had not occurred to Oniyuri, but it was not the time to assess them. While she would finally walk without assistance, she could not walk alone for long periods of time. Oniyuri was so close to her self-set goal she could almost taste the achievement, but close did not mean accomplished.
Oniyuri and Ajisai were alone with Asagao; Hanabi was preoccupied with classes of her own, no doubt getting ready for the nights to come. This was Oniyuri and Ajisai's first time watching the performance, and Oniyuri was ready to dive in head first.
Nevertheless, Oniyuri hitched a ride with the next group heading to the hotel with a polite "May I join you," and was rewarded with a merry ride on Nanohana's shoulders. There was two reasons for her to return to the hotel.
After spending a few moments to rest in Hanabi and her's shared room and picking up the other finished books, Oniyuri slipped over to where she was told the library boy had taken up residence.
"Oniyuri-san!" The boy exclaimed upon opening the door for her. "Welcome back!" he grins and steps aside so she could toddle inside, closing the door behind her. She shamefully dumps the books in front of his scroll, arms screaming from over-exertion, stealing her ability to set them down gently.
"Sorry," she says, in lieu of a greeting, "No speak Thai." The boy beamed anyway.
"So just Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese and English?" he sits down once more, taking out the borrowing records to return the books.
"Latin," Oniyuri adds, but I can only read it, she wishes she could add, but refrained. The library boy shook his head sadly.
"I can't let any of my Latin books out of my sight." He sighs, like it's the greatest tragedy, both of this world and previous. To a librarian, it wouldn't be far-fetched. "Not too many people speak it, I'm afraid."
Oniyuri nods in understanding, turning to leave.
"No new books?" Oniyuri shakes her head "Understandable. I hope you find that last book interesting!" the boy stands again to open the door, smile visible through his unkempt fringe as she gave him one last wave. Curious boy, Oniyuri thought, continuing on her journey for the last reason she returned to the hotel.
Over the past few weeks Kigiku had given a little tune for Oniyuri to practice, on an instrument no complicated than its name: a wooden fish. It was nothing more than a steady beat with a few double eighth notes inserted in orderly fashion, but it was the induction into musical instruments for any clan member. Kigiku wanted Oniyuri to go over it one more time before Oniyuri performed it at the stadium.
She found herself once more outside the hotel, waiting for a familiar family crest to direct her to the music teacher, when they themselves found Oniyuri instead.
"Kigiku-san," Oniyuri greets, taking her hand gratefully and allowing herself to be directed back inside.
"You shouldn't hang outside the hotel, not when you're still physically a toddler." Kigiku's gentle voice sounds as beautiful as the instruments as she could masterly play. It sounded like a tragedy to hear the scolding tone. Oniyuri gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
"My apologies."
Kigiku ushers her into a room a few levels away from the library boy's room; two other children sat in front of kotos, no doubt having their own form of a test. They had their hair pinned back artfully, with a sturdy kimono almost a sidenote when next to the tasteful hair ornaments. They would no doubt be in public view later, but had not changed into appropriate clothes yet.
"Oniyuri," Kigiku gestures to the wooden fish. Oniyuri takes her place before it, picking up the hammer beside it and at her teacher's gesture, began a solid marching tone. The two older children, whom had been chattering moments before, paused for her minor performance. Out of the corner of her eye, Oniyuri saw them slowly relax, finding solace in the comforting beat. She began the little rift that was not hard to memorise, finishing the song after a solid smack to the striking area. Her hand not clutching the hammer fell away from the kimono sleave, letting it droop forward once more.
"You have performed admirably." Kigiku picks up the wooden fish with delicate grip, respecting the instrument no matter how basic the music it could produce. That sentence represented Kigiku highly accurately, Oniyuri could admit. "I will see you at the stadium later tonight."
She wouldn't be performing in front of a live audience; no. Like how the other children had stopped to listen, the tune was a method for other clan members to calm down and begin to focus for the night. Tradition called for the youngest member of the music class to perform it, and the duty had finally been handed to Oniyuri.
Kigiku dismissed her with a few short words of criticism and compliments, instructing for her to return to her room until her guardian – Hanabi – could return.
Like magic, Hanabi answered the door for Oniyuri, offering a hand for support.
"How did your exam go?" Hanabi asks, pulling out the special heavy-duty winter outer kimonos specifically designed for Iron. With the sun disappearing behind the Three Wolves, the temperature was diving every second. While the stadium was heated, the journey there was not.
"OK." Oniyuri held out her arms, welcoming the blanket of warmth that the outer kimono offered. She gathered her calligraphy instruments, casting a glance at the ninja book sitting innocently beside her bed, not giving any indication to the problems that plagued the words inside.
Hanabi thankfully took the writing tools, allowing Oniyuri to slide her hands into the sleeves so she could warm her ice cold fingers in the crook of her elbow. Asagao's room was not far away; Oniyuri only needed to rest once on the walk over. Hanabi and Asagao had started to hang out more, partly because the two of them were in the same situation, and partly because after the first few awkward weeks, the two of them finally hit upon something they could talk about for hours on end.
And well, if Hanabi and Asagao were friends, that meant Oniyuri and Ajisai were now friends. Oniyuri was still trying to figure out her thoughts on this subject right up until Hanabi rapped her fist against Asagao's door, the sound of which quieted her mind.
"Hanabi-san!" Asagao answers cheerfully from behind the door, light steps shuggling over to open it for them. "Come in, come in. How are you today, Oniyuri-san?" she waved her hand in answer, gingerly smiling at the older women. She had returned from the stadium, most likely because them in the audience seats was getting tedious and boring. The three of them walked towards a low-lying table, where Ajisai sat with his back towards the door. He was impossibly still, having just gotten rid of the backrest, still slightly unsteady.
Hanabi gestured for Oniyuri to sit next to Ajisai, while the older women walked off to the kitchen, chattering away. Oniyuri was happy to sit with the boy, at least, lest she got forced to listen to the conversation on whatever Asagao and Hanabi found interesting.
"How are you today, Oniyuri-san?" Ajisai gently asks, watching her as she set out the calligraphy set and prepared the ink.
"Good." She grasped at the edge of the table, slowly lowering herself to the ground. Her hands were clumsy, but it was long before Oniyuri was carefully placing the last stroke of the clan name. Ajisai was watching her stoke, eyes following the tip of the brush. The kanji were wonky, Oniyuri could easily see that, but it was much better than her attempts from last week, let alone when she first started.
Oniyuri cast a glance at the other child at the table.
"Ajisai…" she murmured. To be frank, there was only so many times before writing 鬼百合 got really boring. Having decided, she spelt three more kanji: 紫陽花. She set down the brush and turned the page towards Ajisai, pulling out a fresh sheet and setting it down next to the one she had just done. "Here." She offered the brush.
"Wait, what?" his tiny hands grasp at the brush, little splatters of ink marring both the fresh page and the example as he tried to steady both his hands. Both arms shook from the strength he poured into the task. "You're giving this to me? Why?" Oniyuri slapped Ajisai's name, giving him a puzzled glance.
"Your name." she explains, and slides one chubby finger down beside the kanji. "Sui-ei A-ji-sai." His eyes widens, and his adorably cute baby face melts into a pout.
"Oh, yes, my name. Right…" one of Ajisai's hands falls away from the brush, the tip of it dropping to lightly scrape against the paper, and even though his arms jerks up again a dark splotch of ink is left. Ajisai looked hopelessly lost.
"Can't write?" Ajisai winces, and his eyes transfix themselves on the example kanji. Oniyuri allows herself to feel amused, drinking in the satisfaction of finding something that Ajisai didn't excel at. She then boxed it up and stored it away, scooting her body around the corner until she was next to Ajisai. She took the brush again, and began to write: あえいうおcalling out the corresponding sounds as she goes.
Slowly, but surely, they work their way through the entire hiragana alphabet. Ajisai had a go at identifying a few that Oniyuri drew, and had a small lesson on how to correctly hold a shodo brush before he practiced the characters.
Ajisai was a genius; he memorised characters quicker than an eager, ready-to-learn student, and could vomit back the little rhymes in a snap. Just to show him something more, Oniyuri gave him the characters of one to ten, and a few necessary vocab, such as to go, to see and to eat.
Oniyuri was just about to throw the brush down in shame (Ajisai had just torn through the entire alphabet without a single nudge of reminder from her) Hanabi and Asagao breezed back into the room, taking in the scene with a smile.
"Practicing your characters?" Hanabi took the brush offered to her by Oniyuri, taking it back into the kitchen to clean. She could reach the bench, unlike Oniyuri.
"Oh, I was going to show you sometime," Asagao sighed, but helped Oniyuri pack the utensils away, "We'd better hurry up if Oniyuri is to perform at the stadium beforehand."
Hanabi took them by their room to drop off Oniyuri's calligraphy set, not wasting any time dallying before they were rushing out of the hotel and towards the stadium.
This time the arena was a flurry of activity; the colosseum all focused on the pool of water, still as the air on a humid day but not a single sign of icing. Asagao and Ajisai quickly made their way to the clan seating, a ring of seats closest to the grand stage, while Hanabi branched off towards the orchestra pit. Kigiku was already seated, stealing the spotlight despite cornered by a range of kotos up the back. Oniyuri directed Hanabi to seat her in front of the wooden fish, on a little prop that allowed herself to peak over the edge of the pit. From the angle Oniyuri could see a magnificent platform breaking the rows of seating, grandeur flourishment and drapes almost completely concealing the raised area. Flanking that, clan members were laying the last of lush cushions and decorations. The quality of ornaments dropping further from the centre and from the platform.
"That's for the shogun," Oniyuri turned to see the children from music class. This time they were dressed appropriately; an embroidered kimono complimenting the hair pins. Their hands were shaking, even as she pointed at the drapes. The other lad was twisting a ring on his finger as he stared down at the instruments before him. "The first night is always reserved for the shogun and his most important nobles and loyal samurais."
"Oniyuri-san," Kigiku calls from behind her. "Begin when you are ready."
Even from the limited view of the pit Oniyuri knew in her bones that this was a night to remember, not only for her but for all that would see. The stadium was huge, the pool of water was huge, and the beautiful music Kigiku and her students could produce was a series of signs: signs that the Suiei Clan took their career seriously. Oniyuri waved over the other students that were just talking to her.
"Good luck," she begins, and switches her train of thought halfway through her words of encouragement. "You guys are going to rock this." They give her a weak smile, grateful but full of nerves. She pulls the hammer towards her and gives the wooden fish a light smack. It resounds around the stadium. Fantastic acoustics, it seems. Oniyuri buries herself into the melody, hardly paying attention to those around her, even as the students settled behind their instruments.
The stadium quietened down until it was only sound of the wooden fish echoing through the ring. Oh, Oniyuri could hear the students in front of her murmuring, and the occasional laughter could be heard from the clean seatings, but the tension in the air seemed to drain away.
It was not long before the strings of the koto could be heard behind the wooden fish; Kigiku slowly began to increase the volume of her music, her students joining in as the sounds Oniyuri makes is eventually drowned out by more complicated pieces. With one last strike, she lies the hammer down and quietly shuffles out of the orchestra pit. Hanabi was waiting around the corner, quickly guiding her towards the clan seating.
By the time they found the seats Asagao had saved for them, the audience was already filtering into the stadium; the rich nobels and samurais were allowed in first, as a sign of privilege and money. While Oniyuri could spot the difference between a noble and a samurai, she was hard pressed to find the differences in wealth. Perhaps the commoners were on another day? They were staying in Iron for two weeks.
Ajisai was already looking bored, so Oniyuri grabbed his hand and began to trace out characters. After a few seconds of confusion, he began to recite the correct answers. Even with the occasional mistake, Ajisai still recalled all the characters with a freakish ability.
The sun had already gone down while Oniyuri and Hanabi were inside Asagao and Ajisai's room; the surroundings of the stadium slowly being swallowed up by the dark. The shogan had arrived an hour after the orchestra began, giving a small taste of how long the night was shaping up to be.
The music changes into something Oniyuri recognises as the song Kigiku called Daybreak, and a hush falls over the audience as the lights in the seats dim. A breath of anticipation – and then Oniyuri sees Kiku.
It's hard to recognise the ethereal angel as Kiku, partly because the first time Oniyuri sees her she's still half-hiding in a dark archway, the only level access to the water bowl. Even as she steps out, feet finding footing on flat water, she still unrecognisable. She's wearing a six layered kimono, each a contrasting but complimenting colour. The outer layer is embroidered to hell and back, tiny details that do not escape Oniyuri's notice even from where she was sitting. Her sleeves almost touch the water, and the layers of the kimono drag behind her. Astonishingly, they don't fall into the water, and show no signs of being wet.
To top it all off is the sheer number of loose, vibrant fabric and jewellery. There's small ropes, strips of colour, chains, bells, whistles, and more hanging from the obi, from her niqab (which is pinned up into the most complicated up-do, but still leaves the ends hanging), from her arms. She's also clasping two giant ceremonial fans, the ends of the spindles also decorated with strings and bells.
It's only when she raises her arms and opens her eyes that Oniyuri finally sees Kiku. It was the way she held her body, the strength behind her eyes. If it wasn't already established that Oniyuri was one of the oldest members, then she could've easily fallen into a girl crush right then and there.
Kiku raises the fans in a wide arc, the wide face of the fan facing the earth and the sky. The music jumps, the water underneath the fans responding and reaching to touch the edges of the fan. Kiku bursts into full motion, the water under her feet reacting artistically as she spun, the water attached to her ceremonial fans bending around her explosion of fabric and colour like it was afraid to touch art.
Her style was traditional Japanese dances and European contemporary; ballet and interpretative; a flare of the kimono's sleeve followed by delicate sweep of her arm as tiny streams of water attached to various ornaments weave together. The dance itself was a perfect mix of abstract and a storyline; by itself it could've made a beautiful private performance, but the
The fire of curiosity exploded inside Oniyuri, only it wasn't geared towards ninjas. It was towards the hard work of finding your limbs, the smoothness of finding the beat, the joy of performing – Oniyuri wanted to dance, something she had not felt in years. She wanted to be the one out there, mixing Georgian style with hip hop, or some other wacky combo, to not only practice in solitude but to showcase the end product. And the water was just another layer of complexity – Oniyuri wanted that.
The music comes to the last throws; moving faster and the sounds of stronger notes beating across the stadium like rapid heartbeats. Kiku's arms sweep more sharply, coming to a halt before moving. At the final hurrah, she throws up the two fans, creating two picture-perfect archways over as she bows to the shogun first then the rest of the audience.
Oniyuri's heart thudded in her chest. She had long surrendered the chance to dance and seeing this broke a barrier in her mind: Oniyuri could do anything, and there wasn't anything to stop her but herself. She could jump, she could dance, she could run.
Oniyuri wasn't a centenarian anymore; she was a newborn with the world in her hands.