Author's note: Ouch! It took me two weeks to recieve my own copy of the Diary of Lady Murasaki. Gee, I don't know if it was really worth saving five dollars . . . although the book itself is definitely worth the $7.50 I actually paid for it. So I can finally restart this fic. I don't know if I can pick back up with a chapter a day, but it'll be fun to try, ne?
I had made a mistake in chapter 2, which I have now corrected. The year 1010 is Kankou 7, not Kankou 5. The events described in this story are all Kankou 7, which might had confused someone who decided to read the Diary of Murasaki on their own . . . I've also made a gross miscalculation as to the Emperor Ichijo's age, which fortunately doesn't affect the story as written but rather throws off some of my plans (he's literally twice as old as I thought he was.) I've also fixed a few spelling errors and other random syntax errors in the first four chapters, and added a bit to chapter four.
A shiznet of review thanks go to tdei, Shan, mangamad, Sakurayuki, Dark Cyradis, Sakura_star 63, Lauren-sama, Jenglory, Cinclayr, JMJ, Winter, and Murinae. A special thanks goes to Fizzy Squirrel from the Hikago ML, and to those who have sent me email :D
Disclaimer: They're not mine, despite my fondest wishes. All I own are a few volumes of the manga and a nice wallscroll . . . They really belong to Hotta, Obata, Shounen Jump, Studio Pierrot, and a bunch of other people and companies in Japan that I will probably never get a chance to properly thank.
* * *
Fujiwara, part 5
* * *
Sai had never really talked about his past much. Whenever he spoke of his life before Hikaru, he had mostly described the events surrounding Torajiro. Honinbo Shuusaku had such a profound impact on both Sai and the country itself that it was easy to see why Sai loved that time of his life best, but it saddened Hikaru that he hadn't spoken more of the uncle that now walked by Hikaru's side, or the cousin that had been killed needlessly. Perhaps those events had depressed Sai too much; the glamorous world of the Heian had been ripped from him by thoughtless ambition, and Sai could have never gone back. At that time he had lost his innocence, and the world had changed.
I've lost my innocence too, now, I suppose, Hikaru thought has he stepped out of the rickety palanquin and stood before the grounds of the Biwa mansion. Naritada's entourage, apparently mostly minor officials themselves not above the fifth rank, left them alone as they entered the covered walkway that led from the muddy street to the main buildings of the temporary palace.
Kankou 7. Ten thousand ten. Who was emperor then? Michinaga was in power, but he remained regent for a long time . . . wasn't it with his death that the Fujiwara family went into decline? Awww, man, I should have studied more, Hikaru lamented.
The court was being held in the large room of the Biwa mansion. The building was a Fujiwara posession, and firmly in the Fujiwara "section" of Heian-kyou, much like Naritada's mansion had been. In the anteroom of the court, small groups of men, probably officials lesser than the fifth rank, sat and chatted and played go and other games. Someone played a stringed instrument. Hikaru glanced at one of the many fine go boards, and was surprised at how well the games were going. By his own standards they would be amateurs, since they couldn't all be go tutors to the emperor, but their skills were definitely up to insei levels if not higher. Hikaru would have enjoyed playing any one of them.
"You must wait here, Hikaru," Naritada said, and pointed to a corner. "You can play a game if you wish, but I will come and get you if Michinaga grants you an audience with the Emperor."
Hikaru nodded, and groaned when he felt the tate-eboshi slipping off his head. He reached up to grind it onto his hair, muttering about modern conditioners ruining traction for the sake of shine. He dropped as gracefully as he could into a kneeling position in front of an empty go board, flipping his sleeves out like he had seen Sai do so many times. Naritada gave him a long, hard look, then slipped through the curtains, into the main room of the court.
"Man, this is complicated," Hikaru complained to himself, and sighed, glad that pro exhibitions in his time didn't require any more ceremony than a polite "please" and "thank you." He touched the wood of the board gently, then picked up a shale stone, the cool, smooth surface strange after touching the silk of his sleeves.
"Sai," he whispered, and placed the stone on the board, recreating one of the games he had recently lost, trying to find some way that he could have won it. "So this is what you did every day? Of course, you were fourth ranked, you said as much yourself, so you didn't have to wait . . . but this is the sort of existance you led." He glanced around the room again. None of the other men paid him any attention outright, although there was an occassional curious glance. There were no women here; the Empress and her own court resided in a separate mansion, hidden behind curtains and fans and layers of silk.
The Heian was regarded with a sort of distant awe in his time, both at the splender of their lives and also at the complete disregard they had for the outside world. The rich nobles of the court wasted their lives away playing go, promising love and then breaking their vows, fighting for petty ranks and status, penning poems that showed their wit and their aesthetics clearly. Hikaru's had never written a poem in his life.
But he was good at go, at least.
He had recreated a good portion of the game when one of the others in the room finally worked up the nerve to approach him.
"Greetings," said the stranger, a rather plump old man. "We have never seen you here before, although we all have been here before. As the river flows, so does the water change, so that one cannot step into the same river twice in one season."
It took Hikaru a moment to realize that the man had quipped a poem without even breaking a sweat. He had a moment of panic before deciding he'd make more of a fool of himself if he attempted to answer in kind.
"Uh, I'm a go player from Tokyo," he said, and cringed and the bluntness of his own speech compared with the flowing poetry.
The courtier blinked for a moment while he tried to decipher Hikaru's strange accent, then shrugged it off and kneeled on the other side of the go board, examining the game with unabashed curiosity. Hikaru continued placing stones, looking for the critical mistake he had made last week that had eventually cost him the game.
"Your go is very good," the man said, "although I am not familiar of the practice of playing the game entirely by oneself."
"I'm recreating a game I played before," he explained, and grinned when he saw the error he had made. Had he attached at the star, he'd have cut right through the path his opponent had sought to complete. Hikaru couldn't believe he'd missed that.
"Oh," the man said. "I have heard that skilled players can do this. Although to witness the ghost of a battle lost would cause me great heartache."
At the word "ghost" Hikaru jumped a little, then realized the man had slipped back into poetic speach again.
"If one can vanquish the ghost that has been ressurrected, then the battle has now been won," Hikaru replied, surprised to hear himself assuming some of the flowing speech of the other. Naritada had spoken in constant prose, but then again, this was the actual COURT, and everyone here was constantly trying to impress and out-do everyone else.
"But can a battle that was once lost ever be turned to a victory? The battlefield gives scars that time cannot reverse."
"Time cannot reverse a scar, but instead it can heal it, making it as new. A warrior's scars are lessons learned."
The older man chuckled slightly at Hikaru's unexpected comeback. As for himself, Hikaru was amazed at how easy it was to drop into the poetic speech of the everyday court. Heck, with a little work, he could even trim that last one down to a haiku! Only, they didn't write haiku in the Heian, did they? It was a longer poem back then . . . er, now.
Naritada returned from beyond the curtain, and gestured at Hikaru to come near him, quickly.
The young boy did so, leaving the old courtier to study the complex go game that Hikaru had left behind on the board.
"His Excellency has agreed to grant you a private audience with the Emperor after the midday meal. In the meantime, we'll stay here at this mansion, but we don't have to reamin in these stuffy rooms."
Hikaru was beginning to get the distinct impression that Naritada didn't like the courts very much either.
"Food would be good," Hikaru agreed, and followed Naritada out of the anteroom towards another building of the mansion, where they apparently had food prepared for an afternoon meal.
Behind them, in the anteroom, the older courtier was looking in amazement at the game that Hikaru had battled. Some of the moves that appeared so simple on the surface had deeper currents; the battle fought had truly been between masters at the game.
"I haven't seen a game so well played since Sai disappeared," the old courtier mumbled thoughtfully to himself, and went to gather his comrades and show them the magnificent battle that the stranger had waged with himself.
* * *
Determined not to let Hikaru's thoughtless disappearance ruin his vacation, Akira had decided to visit the Costume Museum. He walked through the gallaries, amazed at the careful detail paid to each and every one of the miniature models. The layouts for the fictional Tale of Genji were the most spectacular; built entirely at scale, in wood, completely with colorful characters enacting scenes from the world's first novel.
More than one scene depicted the nobles playing games of go. Even the go boards had been faithfully recreated in miniature. Akira studied one of the games, pleased to see that they had used a genuine game, although the style of play indicated it was contemporary as opposed to an older setup. That they had made the effort at all indicated how well thought-out each display was.
Akira mulled over the idea of Hikaru's thoughtless wish. Back when the strange player known as Sai had reigned over the internet go world, someone had proclaimed him the Igo no Kami. Had a god of go seen fit to grant Hikaru's wish? It was silly, simply silly, and ground against Akira's logical mentality. Things like that just didn't happen. He half-believed in the gods, and Buddha, but religion had never figured largely in his upbringing. His father had not become the Meijin by being superstitious.
Yet his father would probably believe the wild theory of Hikaru being abducted into the Heian, Akira mused. Touya Koyou liked that sort of story, so long as it had a purpose.
"This place is just making it worse," Akira muttered, and left the costume museum, dissatisfied with himself.
* * *
The midday meal for the lower ranks of the court was served on elegantly arranged trays. There were no tables; everyone sat in small groups in the yard of the Biwa mansion, and ate and talked. Things were rather informal today, as it was an ordinary time and only the minimal amount of ceremony was required for propriety's sake.
Hikaru picked at the unfamiliar food, longing for a bowl of ramen. "I bet Waya and Isumi had already found the best ramen shop in Kyoto and are eating without me," he whined to himself. Here he saw noble women for the first time; they wore layers and layers of gauzy silk and hid behind beautiful fans, their long hair hiding much of their faces. Once in a while they would smile, revealing blackened teeth.
"I'm really glad the standards of beauty have changed," Hikaru said, and shuddered. He did have to grin at a vision of Akari with stained teeth; she'd look positively hideous like that.
When he'd finally choked down enough to calm his rumbling stomach, he returned his tray to the servants and found Naritada talking with other upper ranked courtiers near a stream that ran through the mansion grounds. Hikaru peered into the flowing water, seeing his current appearance reflected for the first time. He wasn't sure he liked what he saw.
"Kami-sama, why did you listen to my wish?" he asked. "Why on earth am I really here?"
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned around to see a sour, middle-aged man glaring at him from the circle of courtiers. Hikaru shivered and looked away. The man was positively frightening.
"Ah, Hikaru, you are here. The Emperor is in the West Corridor now. You must be sure to play him to the fullest of your abilities, as His Majesty is a formidable opponent. His tutors have taught him well."
"Who is His Majesty's current tutor?" Hikaru asked as they crossed the footbridge over the stream.
"Tsuyujima-san has remained the tutor since Sai disappeared. No one can beat his skill. He is over there," Naritada said, and pointed to the man who had been glaring at Hikaru moments ago. "Perhaps you will play a game with him today as well."
Suddenly Hikaru became very afraid. Tsuyujima was the man who had caused Sai to be exiled . . . who had caused Sai to die.
* * *
End Part 5
I had made a mistake in chapter 2, which I have now corrected. The year 1010 is Kankou 7, not Kankou 5. The events described in this story are all Kankou 7, which might had confused someone who decided to read the Diary of Murasaki on their own . . . I've also made a gross miscalculation as to the Emperor Ichijo's age, which fortunately doesn't affect the story as written but rather throws off some of my plans (he's literally twice as old as I thought he was.) I've also fixed a few spelling errors and other random syntax errors in the first four chapters, and added a bit to chapter four.
A shiznet of review thanks go to tdei, Shan, mangamad, Sakurayuki, Dark Cyradis, Sakura_star 63, Lauren-sama, Jenglory, Cinclayr, JMJ, Winter, and Murinae. A special thanks goes to Fizzy Squirrel from the Hikago ML, and to those who have sent me email :D
Disclaimer: They're not mine, despite my fondest wishes. All I own are a few volumes of the manga and a nice wallscroll . . . They really belong to Hotta, Obata, Shounen Jump, Studio Pierrot, and a bunch of other people and companies in Japan that I will probably never get a chance to properly thank.
* * *
Fujiwara, part 5
* * *
Sai had never really talked about his past much. Whenever he spoke of his life before Hikaru, he had mostly described the events surrounding Torajiro. Honinbo Shuusaku had such a profound impact on both Sai and the country itself that it was easy to see why Sai loved that time of his life best, but it saddened Hikaru that he hadn't spoken more of the uncle that now walked by Hikaru's side, or the cousin that had been killed needlessly. Perhaps those events had depressed Sai too much; the glamorous world of the Heian had been ripped from him by thoughtless ambition, and Sai could have never gone back. At that time he had lost his innocence, and the world had changed.
I've lost my innocence too, now, I suppose, Hikaru thought has he stepped out of the rickety palanquin and stood before the grounds of the Biwa mansion. Naritada's entourage, apparently mostly minor officials themselves not above the fifth rank, left them alone as they entered the covered walkway that led from the muddy street to the main buildings of the temporary palace.
Kankou 7. Ten thousand ten. Who was emperor then? Michinaga was in power, but he remained regent for a long time . . . wasn't it with his death that the Fujiwara family went into decline? Awww, man, I should have studied more, Hikaru lamented.
The court was being held in the large room of the Biwa mansion. The building was a Fujiwara posession, and firmly in the Fujiwara "section" of Heian-kyou, much like Naritada's mansion had been. In the anteroom of the court, small groups of men, probably officials lesser than the fifth rank, sat and chatted and played go and other games. Someone played a stringed instrument. Hikaru glanced at one of the many fine go boards, and was surprised at how well the games were going. By his own standards they would be amateurs, since they couldn't all be go tutors to the emperor, but their skills were definitely up to insei levels if not higher. Hikaru would have enjoyed playing any one of them.
"You must wait here, Hikaru," Naritada said, and pointed to a corner. "You can play a game if you wish, but I will come and get you if Michinaga grants you an audience with the Emperor."
Hikaru nodded, and groaned when he felt the tate-eboshi slipping off his head. He reached up to grind it onto his hair, muttering about modern conditioners ruining traction for the sake of shine. He dropped as gracefully as he could into a kneeling position in front of an empty go board, flipping his sleeves out like he had seen Sai do so many times. Naritada gave him a long, hard look, then slipped through the curtains, into the main room of the court.
"Man, this is complicated," Hikaru complained to himself, and sighed, glad that pro exhibitions in his time didn't require any more ceremony than a polite "please" and "thank you." He touched the wood of the board gently, then picked up a shale stone, the cool, smooth surface strange after touching the silk of his sleeves.
"Sai," he whispered, and placed the stone on the board, recreating one of the games he had recently lost, trying to find some way that he could have won it. "So this is what you did every day? Of course, you were fourth ranked, you said as much yourself, so you didn't have to wait . . . but this is the sort of existance you led." He glanced around the room again. None of the other men paid him any attention outright, although there was an occassional curious glance. There were no women here; the Empress and her own court resided in a separate mansion, hidden behind curtains and fans and layers of silk.
The Heian was regarded with a sort of distant awe in his time, both at the splender of their lives and also at the complete disregard they had for the outside world. The rich nobles of the court wasted their lives away playing go, promising love and then breaking their vows, fighting for petty ranks and status, penning poems that showed their wit and their aesthetics clearly. Hikaru's had never written a poem in his life.
But he was good at go, at least.
He had recreated a good portion of the game when one of the others in the room finally worked up the nerve to approach him.
"Greetings," said the stranger, a rather plump old man. "We have never seen you here before, although we all have been here before. As the river flows, so does the water change, so that one cannot step into the same river twice in one season."
It took Hikaru a moment to realize that the man had quipped a poem without even breaking a sweat. He had a moment of panic before deciding he'd make more of a fool of himself if he attempted to answer in kind.
"Uh, I'm a go player from Tokyo," he said, and cringed and the bluntness of his own speech compared with the flowing poetry.
The courtier blinked for a moment while he tried to decipher Hikaru's strange accent, then shrugged it off and kneeled on the other side of the go board, examining the game with unabashed curiosity. Hikaru continued placing stones, looking for the critical mistake he had made last week that had eventually cost him the game.
"Your go is very good," the man said, "although I am not familiar of the practice of playing the game entirely by oneself."
"I'm recreating a game I played before," he explained, and grinned when he saw the error he had made. Had he attached at the star, he'd have cut right through the path his opponent had sought to complete. Hikaru couldn't believe he'd missed that.
"Oh," the man said. "I have heard that skilled players can do this. Although to witness the ghost of a battle lost would cause me great heartache."
At the word "ghost" Hikaru jumped a little, then realized the man had slipped back into poetic speach again.
"If one can vanquish the ghost that has been ressurrected, then the battle has now been won," Hikaru replied, surprised to hear himself assuming some of the flowing speech of the other. Naritada had spoken in constant prose, but then again, this was the actual COURT, and everyone here was constantly trying to impress and out-do everyone else.
"But can a battle that was once lost ever be turned to a victory? The battlefield gives scars that time cannot reverse."
"Time cannot reverse a scar, but instead it can heal it, making it as new. A warrior's scars are lessons learned."
The older man chuckled slightly at Hikaru's unexpected comeback. As for himself, Hikaru was amazed at how easy it was to drop into the poetic speech of the everyday court. Heck, with a little work, he could even trim that last one down to a haiku! Only, they didn't write haiku in the Heian, did they? It was a longer poem back then . . . er, now.
Naritada returned from beyond the curtain, and gestured at Hikaru to come near him, quickly.
The young boy did so, leaving the old courtier to study the complex go game that Hikaru had left behind on the board.
"His Excellency has agreed to grant you a private audience with the Emperor after the midday meal. In the meantime, we'll stay here at this mansion, but we don't have to reamin in these stuffy rooms."
Hikaru was beginning to get the distinct impression that Naritada didn't like the courts very much either.
"Food would be good," Hikaru agreed, and followed Naritada out of the anteroom towards another building of the mansion, where they apparently had food prepared for an afternoon meal.
Behind them, in the anteroom, the older courtier was looking in amazement at the game that Hikaru had battled. Some of the moves that appeared so simple on the surface had deeper currents; the battle fought had truly been between masters at the game.
"I haven't seen a game so well played since Sai disappeared," the old courtier mumbled thoughtfully to himself, and went to gather his comrades and show them the magnificent battle that the stranger had waged with himself.
* * *
Determined not to let Hikaru's thoughtless disappearance ruin his vacation, Akira had decided to visit the Costume Museum. He walked through the gallaries, amazed at the careful detail paid to each and every one of the miniature models. The layouts for the fictional Tale of Genji were the most spectacular; built entirely at scale, in wood, completely with colorful characters enacting scenes from the world's first novel.
More than one scene depicted the nobles playing games of go. Even the go boards had been faithfully recreated in miniature. Akira studied one of the games, pleased to see that they had used a genuine game, although the style of play indicated it was contemporary as opposed to an older setup. That they had made the effort at all indicated how well thought-out each display was.
Akira mulled over the idea of Hikaru's thoughtless wish. Back when the strange player known as Sai had reigned over the internet go world, someone had proclaimed him the Igo no Kami. Had a god of go seen fit to grant Hikaru's wish? It was silly, simply silly, and ground against Akira's logical mentality. Things like that just didn't happen. He half-believed in the gods, and Buddha, but religion had never figured largely in his upbringing. His father had not become the Meijin by being superstitious.
Yet his father would probably believe the wild theory of Hikaru being abducted into the Heian, Akira mused. Touya Koyou liked that sort of story, so long as it had a purpose.
"This place is just making it worse," Akira muttered, and left the costume museum, dissatisfied with himself.
* * *
The midday meal for the lower ranks of the court was served on elegantly arranged trays. There were no tables; everyone sat in small groups in the yard of the Biwa mansion, and ate and talked. Things were rather informal today, as it was an ordinary time and only the minimal amount of ceremony was required for propriety's sake.
Hikaru picked at the unfamiliar food, longing for a bowl of ramen. "I bet Waya and Isumi had already found the best ramen shop in Kyoto and are eating without me," he whined to himself. Here he saw noble women for the first time; they wore layers and layers of gauzy silk and hid behind beautiful fans, their long hair hiding much of their faces. Once in a while they would smile, revealing blackened teeth.
"I'm really glad the standards of beauty have changed," Hikaru said, and shuddered. He did have to grin at a vision of Akari with stained teeth; she'd look positively hideous like that.
When he'd finally choked down enough to calm his rumbling stomach, he returned his tray to the servants and found Naritada talking with other upper ranked courtiers near a stream that ran through the mansion grounds. Hikaru peered into the flowing water, seeing his current appearance reflected for the first time. He wasn't sure he liked what he saw.
"Kami-sama, why did you listen to my wish?" he asked. "Why on earth am I really here?"
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned around to see a sour, middle-aged man glaring at him from the circle of courtiers. Hikaru shivered and looked away. The man was positively frightening.
"Ah, Hikaru, you are here. The Emperor is in the West Corridor now. You must be sure to play him to the fullest of your abilities, as His Majesty is a formidable opponent. His tutors have taught him well."
"Who is His Majesty's current tutor?" Hikaru asked as they crossed the footbridge over the stream.
"Tsuyujima-san has remained the tutor since Sai disappeared. No one can beat his skill. He is over there," Naritada said, and pointed to the man who had been glaring at Hikaru moments ago. "Perhaps you will play a game with him today as well."
Suddenly Hikaru became very afraid. Tsuyujima was the man who had caused Sai to be exiled . . . who had caused Sai to die.
* * *
End Part 5