Authoress' notes: Boy, do I need a disclaimer for this chapter like whoa.
So yeah, I'm just another one of those ignorant Americans, so obviously I know nothing about tea ceremony. But I had to include it in the story because...well, you'll see why. Heh.
All the formalproceedings in this chapter I sorta picked up from all over the internet again. If it were not for Google I'd really wouldn't be able to write any of this chapter. Heck, I might not have written the whole story.
Soo, as I have not been trained for years in the art of tea ceremony, I'm going to have to take some liberties with it. At least I hope I developed the atmosphere of tea ceremony since there is no way for me to be accurate in every single detail. If anyone can offer suggestions I'm happy to take them into consideration. Enjoy!
Wayward Ransom, chapter27.
by artisanrox
Yukio drew in the smoke of rich tobacco through the pipe he was holding, finally satisfied that there were no more small, snow-like bits of feathery down that fell from the sky. They were quite annoying, and they'd completely ruin the atmosphere of the occasion today.
Blowing the tobacco smoke out into the open air, he watched the puff of white curl around itself, and finally vanish. His personal guard, bearing the armor with the emblem of a silkworm, sat next to him, using the other tobacco pipe, enjoying the silence and serene beauty of the spring afternoon.
"So, did you find the sweets acceptable?" Yukio directed the question to his personal guard wearing the silkworm armor.
"My lord! They were wonderful!" answered the guard, with an unconscious bow of his head. "I am humbled by your graciousness. I would never have thought my lord would ever invite a simple guard to tea ceremony."
"Simple? I don't think so, as the silkworm armor isn't all that simple to master. You've been an exceptional guardian these past five years. It's the least I can do."
"My lord, I look forward to sampling some of our host's tea," said the guard before taking in a long drag of tobacco himself.
"You will soon enough." Yukio leaned backward, and looked upwards at the clouds. "Tea is good for the heart," he mused, trying to mentally arrange the clouds into shapes of fans, lotuses and koi. "And a bit of relaxation is the best thing one can do for oneself before a challenging situation," he added dryly.
Yukio's guard glanced over, puzzled. The question on the tip of his tongue was never asked, because a cloud of purple replaced the now-dissipated whiteness of Yukio's tobacco smoke.
The lord did nothing more than raise his eyebrows as Soumeikarasu appeared before him. "The boy is on his way," said the raven-demoness. "And everyone has run out of your castle. Obviously they had heard of him getting through your guards so easily and wanted to make sure their lives were preserved."
Yukio turned down his mouth for half a moment, brushed the few ashes away that happened to fall on his deep violet outer jacket, then took another deep drag on his pipe.
Soumeikarasu expected him to leap into action and begin delegating responsibilities, such as searching for deserters and soundly punishing them. But when he did not, her eyes widened with impatience. "Well? Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
"It's all collateral damage. I've planned this ceremony for weeks, Soumeikarasu," answered Yukio, and Soumeikarasu noted the strange lack of irritation in his voice. "I will not worry myself, nor break such an important engagement, over a child." He casually blew out more white smoke from his mouth.
"You will not be making any provisions? This is no ordinary child, as you so often say yourself!"
"My provisions are already made. I have the girl, and that is all I need. He'll either allow her to attack until he's vulnerable, or he will make himself so - in more way than one - by killing her. Either way, you will get him. If by some chance I misjudge the bird's abilities, or get a little too carried away as I remember his impudence, he will end up dead anyway, and so she will practically beg you to take her out of grief."
"Interesting."
"This boy cannot be taken alive by using nothing but force, Soumeikarasu, and I know you most certainly need him alive."
"Even though force certainly worked in the past...didn't it?" argued the demoness.
"It only worked temporarily, before he was revived, as you reported to me. You hit him with force, he'll just hit back harder. Even if he has to come back from the dead to do it," he said, knocking some ashes from his pipe. "He's been too highly trained, he posesses too many skills and talent. I am aware the two of them, him and the girl, are connected. I have not forgotten that in ten years. And he is, after all, a young boy. I know that his mind, his heart, will be the death of him...not a battlefield or a sparring opponent. Force will only end up killing him or ourselves," he continued inbetween drags. "We must be judicious, as I suggested to my former lord, to accomplish our objective."
"Yes, there is certainly more to battle than simple swords and sorcery!" interjected the demoness, making her black feather-fan appear in her hand.
"That's why he may empty the castle and take everything in it if he so pleases," said the daimyo after inhaling a puff of smoke. "The more we resist, the deeper he'll dig in, and when he does that, he becomes only stonger. He's been trained so. I've seen it myself. But he will resist most of all the moment you attempt to posess him. So that's why we need to use the girl, and be cautious, and lose what we must lose, to gain what we must gain." He turned down his mouth wryly. "And do not underestimate me. I do have backup plans, also."
Soumeikarasu raised a suspicious eyebrow.
Glad to change the subject, Yukio continued, leaning back a bit in a relaxed fashion. "So, in the meantime, why do you not join us for tea? I've asked our host to prepare a reserved place for you."
Soumeikarasu turned her nose up, and opened her fan. "I've no use for tea ceremony. Why should I go?"
Yukio blew out a large puff of smoke. "Because it would do you good to appreciate other things besides posessing a strong body. Once you have that body, you'll want to know all the things you may do with it. I would like you to, and you absolutely do not have to drink tea or eat sweets to enjoy it. Think of it as my first official gift in our partnership."
The demoness cocked her dark eyebrow upwards. She humphed indecisively, and gazed out into the horizon while she thought. Upon reaching her decision, she made herself solid against her better judgement, and slapped her fan into her opposing hand.
"I cannot promise you I will have enough energy to begin my attempts at controlling him - "
"I know you will not," said Yukio, blowing out another puff of white, "but no matter. Let the girl do your work for you."
The demoness hummed again, and turned back to her partner. "Fine. I will wait here with you." Now that she was solid, she could smell and feel the white cloud of tobacco smoke which Yukio unwittingly had blown around her. She wrinkled her nose and began to bat at the smoke with her feather-fan.
The gong outside the teahouse was rung five times, and Yukio noted to himself that his host was ready to begin the second half of their engagement. The lord decided to relax just a bit more in the outdoor waiting area, and take a few more puffs of tobacco while admiring the host's hard work in getting the woodsy area surrounding the waiting area so relaxingly clean, trimmed, and perfect.
Soon enough, a round-faced man small of stature, but radiating an aura of intelligent calm and tranquil service, quietly approached the party, his hands neatly folded across his chest.
Yukio stood up, and so did his guard and the toweringly tall demoness, who hid her face coyly with her black fan as their host approached. Yukio and his guard both took their last drags, then emptied their tobacco pipes. Both men gave their host a silent, respectful bow, and the host renturned in part, bowing lower than either of them. Yukio, by all rights, expecting the demoness, who did not bow, to make an ascerbic remark to their host.
No scathing remarks came from the demoness, however, to Yukio's amusement. And although Soumeikarasu did not bow, she did lower her head a bit, with what Yukio noted, was the slightest hint of a grin. Whether the demoness' lack of propriety upset his host or not was not readable, as the man continued to smile pleasantly and calmly at each of them.
Yukio was substanially impressed with his host's ability to placate even Soumeikarasu - or, at least get a grin out of her, as she was one of the most defiant personalties he had ever come in contact with. Yukio did know, in the few times he had scheduled tea ceremony with his host, that the small man's relaxing aura was in fact, quite impressive, but now, it could be appreciated that he had more of an amazing talent than Yukio had ever appreciated.
The host turned around, and all were silent as he gracefully began to lead them back to the teahouse.
Soumeikarasu looked backwards for an instant, and caught Yukio's eye. "Absolutely charming! Isn't he?"
The trio welcomed the melodic calls of songbirds as they walked over the delicately dampened, grassy ground to the teahouse. After the party was finished purifying their hands, their host departed from them, and entered the teahouse through his own designated entrance. Yukio's guard was already in the teahouse, and Yukio was just about to stoop through the threshold when he heard a whispered word spoken in back of him.
"Incense..."
Yukio stood back up, and turned around to look at the demoness. Her jet-black eyes were softened greatly, and she fanned herself in order to take in more of the woodsy incense the host had provided for them.
"It smells so lovely. A blend of roses and sandalwood, with a trace of lilies."
"You have a far greater appreciation of things than I had thought, Soumeikarasu."
The demoness humphed again with her nose in the air. "Lack of appreciation! Quite the opposite!" She stopped fanning for a moment. "I very much appreciate the things that I can temporarily do while solid...smell, taste, touch. However," she added with a definite note of sadness, "it takes so much work, I cannot be immersed in anything for very long. It will be so wonderful...to..."
"To be able to be constantly immersed without putting forth so much effort to maintain it?"
Soumeikarasu startled at his understanding. "Why, yes. The smell of a lily, the taste of a pomegranate, the feeling of silk...all so much work." She smiled at her business partner. "Other demons and most especially, humans...don't understand how well they have it. That's why whenever I can do these things...I never forget what it's like." The demoness sighed, and closed her fan. "Tea ceremony...reminds me of too many wonderful things."
Yukio said nothing, but bowed his head at her, as a signal to enter the teahouse first, to which she obliged.
Seated on the finely woven straw mats inside, the three made themselves comfortable while awaiting their host. Yukio noticed the lovely hand-made yellow vase with the simple arrangement of two white peonys in it. The daimyo point out the arrangemnt to his fellow guests, and the demoness admired their fragrance, while the guard bearing the silkworm armor was inclined to ask their host about the vase's story. Yukio noted that it indeed looked like a work of art, and would also be interested in knowing who the artist was that created such a lovely vase.
Soon enough, their host stepped into the tearoom bearing his tools, bowing again, smiling warmly. Everyone this time, including the demoness, smiled and bowed in return. The host placed the tools gently on the floor, and turned, walking into the backroom again.
After making a few additional brief trips to the preparation room, their host sat down also, and proceeded to purify the instruments in his use. Yukio was amazed at the skill with which he cleansed the instruments, first with water, then with a pure white cloth. The actions, he saw, were clearly ceremonial, however, they never stepped into the realm of mechanical or conditioned. On the contrary, they seemed rather instinctive. Their host surely was a master with many years of training in various artistic fields.
Yukio continued to admire his host's skill while he man prepared the tea. At some times, Yukio could faintly gather, he even seemed like he was combining schools of thought. Nevertheless, he was warm, hospitable, and gracious, and it only made sense for Yukio and his guests to offer their host to sit and chat, and eat and drink along with them as he did for the first part of their ceremony.
Their host finished whisking their tea, and he handed the bright yellow bowl containing it to his guest of honor.
Yukio took a sip of the dark, rich, greenish-black liquid.
"Is it to your liking? Shall I make it stronger?"
"No, no," politely answered the lord. "It's perfect. This seems to be a prime blend, also."
"Oh, yes, it is," answered the host. "I am of the philosophy that a blend of what is the finest will create something even finer. So I worked for quite a long time on achieving the right balance of tastes."
"Incredible. Interesting philosophy you have." Yukio lifted up the bowl to eye level. "And this tea bowl. It's quite a beautiful creation. And it seems to be made in a similar fashion to your flower vase and your water container."
"You have a sharp eye, my lord. All my earthenware containers were made of the same batch of clay. They were painted from the same dye, and they were never separated from each other. I do not use them very often, however, when I do, I use every piece in the set. I think using the set as a whole offers a sense of balance, considering the fact that I use many differing philosophies when serving my guests."
Yukio hummed in thought, wiped the bowl with a handkerchief, and handed the bowl over to his guard.
The guard took a small sip, then held the bowl up also to admire it. "How long have you had this set?"
"I have personally had the set since I had completed my training; however, it's well over a century old, and is priceless. My teacher told me it was the last set created by the artist before he passed on."
The guard raised his eyebrows in amazement. "Definitely his crowning achievement!" he said before wiping the rim of the bowl delicately, and handing the bowl to Soumeikarasu.
Soumeikarasu smiled graciously, and took the bowl in her dark hands. "This bowl seems a bit heavier than what I have noted in other teabowls."
"Yes," their host concurred. "The artist also believed in a sense of balance, so he set out to make earthenware that was a bit heavier, so it may be grounded. The brightness of the yellow glaze complements the weight nicely."
"I agree."
The guard, emboldened by the relaxed atmosphere, posited a question to the demoness. "You are familiar with the nuances of earthenware?"
"Yes," answered the dark woman. "I posessed the mind of a black market dealer once." She smiled at the rest of the guests, and her host in turn. "It was so I could take the opportunity to handle such lovely works of art in mass quantities without tiring myself so much."
For the first time, their host raised an eyebrow in concern, but listened attentively.
"I usually take the minds and bodies of strong human warriors, but at that time, I felt I deserved a vacation, and the dealer was easily taken." She lowered the bowl briefly as she reminisced. "I've learned so much from that experience! It was well worth it," added Soumeikarasu casually, raising the bowl back up to her eye-level and admiring it some more.
The eyes of the guard widened. Vacation, indeed. "...oh..."
The demoness reminisced for a few more moments, then realized that she had not sampled her host's tea as of yet. She curled her fingers even more carefully around the pretty yellow bowl, and brought the bowl close to her lips.
And that's when a deep sound, like concentrated air, was heard not far from one of the corners of the teahouse.
A massive, steel-colored blur bit into the top of the wall behind the armored guard, flying downwards and right down through the floor, hitting the ground below the raised teahouse.
The sheer force of the wind flying out from the weapon sent pieces of shattered wood all around the small tearoom. It knocked over the yellow flowerpot, spilling its water all over, and sent the white flowers and the host's wooden tea instruments clear across the room The terrified host shouted in fright and covered his head with his arms.
The demoness instantly made herself unsolid, and the priceless tea bowl fell to the floor, where it hit the straw mat with a deep thud, and split quite neatly in half. The demoness wasn't disturbed in the least by the near-boiling hot tea sinking into the discolored mat directly underneath her knees.
The entire wall, separated cleanly from the rest of the building, dropped downwards, and fell outwards to the ground. It hit the ground, sending up a thick cloud of dust in all four directions.
The wall came to rest on the ground, when a broad-shouldered, dark-complexioned young man, dressed completely in white, came into view of the party inside the teahouse. He took a few steps onto the fallen wall. A frighteningly heavy-looking, halberd-like, double edged weapon was slung casually over his shoulder. His knee-length braid flowed out behind him like a young tiger's tail, and his free hand rested on a hip. A menacing smirk was on his deceptively innocent-looking, handsome face.
"My lord." A positively devilish grin belied the true nature of the young man's polite greeting, during which his full attention was aimed at the daimyo seated at the far end of the teahouse. Wild-looking cobalt eyes peered out from thick dark eyebrows.
Yukio narrowed his own eyes at the intruder.
Damn you to hell, you bastard child! cursed Soumeikarasu to herself, rising from her place as she recognized the young man by the purple cross-shaped scar on his forehead. I was just about to sample the damned tea!