Puits d'Amour

Duty, Pt 2

A chauffeur opened the car door for Sora, letting her out in front of the Takenouchi estate. The Takenouchis lived in an ancestral home, passed down from ikebana grandmaster to grandmaster, stationed on a sizable plot in the suburb nearest the palace and Parliament buildings. Tall walls surrounded the property; Sora was ushered through the ornate front gate.

A minka style building stood before her, imparting a sense of tradition and serenity. The home was mostly wooden, with verandas encircling the outer walls. Nature was always a step away in the Takenouchi estate, courtesy of sliding doors to the outside. In fact, some parts of the estate were primarily accessed by stepping outdoors, walking down the veranda, and entering the house again, meaning that every Takenouchi and staff member routinely convened with nature. The home was shaped like the letter U, with a garden in the center. The rooms boasted large glass windows looking into the garden and sliding doors that opened to it.

The front yard was small, featuring a stone garden, modified to allow for flowering trees and bushes. The path connecting the estate's main entrance to the front gate was impressive, made of stone whose cracks and deep coloration attested to the property's age. Sora walked along the path, treading where so many Takenouchis went before her.

The staff members who noticed her arrival hurried to the main entrance, dressed in traditional clothing. Although they came to pay respects to the next iemoto, Sora bowed back to them, greeted them by name, and inquired after their families. She understood the necessity of employees; she had her own, after all, and both she and her mother paid well above the standard rate. Even so, something about being served, about having power over the livelihood of others, didn't sit well with her. She was fortunate that her employees at the café became close friends, and any awkwardness quickly faded.

Sora was forced to be more brief than she would have liked. She preferred to be punctual in general. But when the grandmaster of ikebana summoned you for an audience, you were prompt... Especially when she was also your mother.

The oldest servant present led her through the house- a silly formality, since Sora lived here until she moved to the flat above the café about a year ago. Today, the estate was bright and welcoming. Its many sliding doors were open, allowing fresh air and sunshine inside, breathing life into wood and stone. It was a fine September day, the sort that sweetly beckoned. Sora barely saw the entry way, nor the living area it yielded to. Her eyes were on the garden- the exact hope and intention of the ancestor who designed it centuries ago.

Sora paused on the veranda between the back of the house and the garden. Most Hakone gardens were soothing and peaceful, maximizing the impact of green plants, water, and stone. The Takenouchi garden was, paradoxically, the least traditional aspect of the estate, and the most integral. Flowering trees, shrubs, and plants abounded, offering a ready source of ikebana resources and inspiration. Fallen petals, specks of cheerful color, dotted the stone pathways through the garden and floated along the man-made stream, occasionally bumped by fat, prosperous koi. Sunlight permeated the scene, welcoming, sanguine.

The walls surrounding the estate and the house itself provided double layers of seclusion in the garden. It was its own little world, a pocket of peace near a bustling city. Standing here, it seemed impossible that thousands of people existed so nearby, hurrying to jobs, attending Parliament sessions, going to school, utilizing the medical facilities… The world beyond, and even time itself, seemed irrelevant here.

And in the midst of the enchantment, her mother sat seiza on a circular stone clearing, gazing at a large, incomplete ikebana piece. From her body language and unfocused expression, Sora knew that Toshiko was ruminating on her work, allowing her mind to wander while tethered to it, in hopes of seeing something with her subconscious that her eyes did not.

Interrupting the grandmaster at work was not done lightly. The servant bowed to Sora and quietly retreated. Sora sat beside her mother, admiring the arrangement. It was minimalist, consisting of a branch entwined with ivy and small flowers. More branches wound around the central anchoring piece, creating a sculptural quality.

"It's beautiful," Sora said, almost wistfully. She had trained in ikebana her whole life, and continued today, although not with her mother's devotion. The simple fact was that Toshiko was more talented than her. This piece challenged the art, evoking a harsh, haunting feeling.

"It lacks something." Although Toshiko addressed Sora, she remained focused on her work. "Do you have any ideas?"

Sora almost deferred. What insight could she offer the grandmaster? But then, how could she turn down a direct request? With great effort, Sora pushed aside her insecurities and decided to take the question at face value. "The shapes are inspired. I wouldn't change that."

"You've always had an eye for color," Toshiko replied. "Let me know if you think of something."

With that, Toshiko angled herself towards her daughter and smiled, lightening her naturally strict, focused expression. She had clear skin, light brown eyes, and an air of elegant beauty. Her dark hair was pulled up in a traditional style. Toshiko was in her mid forties, but looked younger still. She joked that living among flowers kept her fresh, and maybe there was something to that. But now that she was out in the world, Sora suspected that being born noble, with an inherited home and business, also played a role.

Most of the students working at the café came from well-off families, since the local university was prestigious and expensive. But some attended on merit scholarships and needed the job to get by. Sora offered employees free café food, so they had one less thing to worry about, but she couldn't do much about their tuition, rent, and textbook costs, other than pay well.

She understood now that never having to worry about where your housing, food, and livelihood came from made life far easier. Which wasn't to say that Toshiko didn't work hard. Her hustle was admirable and formidable: managing her business, teaching students, investing, giving lectures, and always, always practicing her art. But the students balancing school and jobs worked hard, too, with the added stress of struggling to get by financially.

What am I thinking? Sora ignored the urge to shake her head. She rarely thought about money and lifestyles before opening her café, which was one of the many reasons she was grateful she took the risk of starting a business. But today, the subject weighed on her mind more than ever, perhaps because of the physical load of it on her person.

Sora opened the fabric drawstring bag looped around her wrist, made of the same fabric as her kimono. Toshiko also wore a kimono, as she usually did when working on ikebana. It wasn't strictly necessary, but it evoked an ethereal connection to thousands of women before her, practicing the craft in the same traditional clothing. Sunlight glittered on Toshiko's floral diamond hairpin, a priceless heirloom passed down through generations, always worn when the grandmaster worked. Generally, women wore it in their hair, and men clipped it to the neckband lining of their kimono. Someday, when Toshiko stepped down as iemoto, it would shine in Sora's hair.

"I brought a lot of money this time," Sora said, tearing her eyes away from the glinting heirloom, and the strange pressure it exerted. It was time to think about her present, not her future, nor its inexorable link to an ancestral past. "This is the best month we've had, profit-wise."

"Is it really! That's wonderful! I'm proud of you, Sora. Although..." Smiling, Toshiko trailed a fingertip over her chin. "I assume the return of a certain prince from Autun had something to do with it."

"That's true," Sora said, hoping to mask her surprise. Given her incredible ikebana skills, it was easy to forget that Toshiko was as much a business owner as an artist. As she often told Sora, an artist who cannot market their skills will not be an artist for long. It shouldn't have surprised her that Toshiko also saw the prince's return as a business opportunity.

"Well, I'm impressed that you thought to capitalize on it. You've grown so much as a business owner! After you asked me about the prince's tastes, I created and exhibited pieces inspired by photographs I had taken of the arrangements made by both princes when they were boys. And while the prince's return makes Hakone citizens think of Autun, it also makes them think of the next generation of Hakone royalty and nobility. We saw a sharp increase in sign-ups for classes."

"Really? It seems silly to me." Too late, Sora noticed her snotty tone. Toshiko's praise ruffled her. Her mother was wholly dedicated to the ikebana school, and she thrived as grandmaster. Toshiko supported Sora through every step of opening her café, and she was grateful beyond words. But somehow, Sora suspected that she had let Toshiko down by turning her attention away from ikebana and towards her own business.

But there was no reason to be disrespectful, and as always, guilt struck the instant Sora allowed any traces of negative emotions to show. "But if more people learn the art, I'm glad," she amended.

"You never were the type to worry about princes," Toshiko said, and her smile made Sora's cheeks heat. Was she being teased? "It's all business and your plans. I admire that, but it's good to have some fun. And speaking of..." Toshiko picked up the thick envelope of cash Sora offered and glanced inside. "This is a lot of money. I'm glad your café is prospering, but are you taking enough breaks?"

"It's ten percent of the monthly profits." Defensiveness infiltrated Sora's tone, and she ordered herself to eradicate it. Her mother had done nothing to deserve it. Even if she was teasing her, or was genuinely concerned, what was the harm? Why was she so prickly today?

Toshiko's smile faded, and just like that, she visually switched from mother to the formal, strict grandmaster. "Sora... You really don't owe me anything for the house near the palace. It's been in the family for centuries, and no one has used it in years. I'm happy that you turned it into a gathering place and give so many kids jobs. And offering Autun culture so near the palace is a show of good faith that we all benefit from."

Even as agitated as she was, Sora knew that snapping at her mother was unwarranted. She paused and tried to listen to the world surrounding her, to envision a connection to the earth beneath her and the sky above. All she felt was the weight of her debt to her mother- and the guilt of pursuing her own path, funded by Toshiko's purse. Still, she was able to grasp the words she had prepared ahead of time for just such a moment. "I'm grateful. But you paid for the renovations, the equipment, the furniture, and my initial supplies. Not to mention the permits and servingware..."

Even though her mother was able to provide her with a house near the university and the palace, absolute prime real estate, for free, starting her business came with a hefty price tag. "I'm happy to consider it a gift," Toshiko said.

"I want to repay you." Which was true, but why did Sora feel so sensitive about it? At first, she felt only gratitude for her mother's generosity and faith in her ability to run a business. But as she met more people who would never have a family member who could fund their business venture, Sora came to realize how privileged she was.

There was nothing inherently immoral about that, but lately, Sora found herself wondering... Was her success her own? Did she deserve the café, and all the happiness it brought? Was there more she could do for people who weren't born into noble families, while staying true to her own needs and dreams? And did Toshiko resent that she was using resources from the Takenouchi wealth and family assets to follow her own path, at least until it was time for her to succeed Toshiko as grandmaster?

Toshiko's skilled, graceful hand moved with deliberate care, just as it did when working on ikebana. She placed her fingertips on Sora's interwoven hands. Sora knew her mother was trying to catch her eye, but she kept them on the ikebana piece- and felt her face heating at her own recalcitrant behavior. "Very well," Toshiko said. "But remember, business expenses can come up at any time. Make sure you're saving enough. And even more importantly, don't work too hard."

"I'm saving almost everything." Sora didn't touch Toshiko's second point. After all the hours she put in during the prince's first week in Hakone, she didn't have a leg to stand on.

A strained paused followed, until Toshiko withdrew. In a conversational tone, she said, "So, how are things at the café? Was everyone excited about the prince?"

Sora leaped on the change in topic. "You won't believe what happened! The crown prince got flustered while walking to the site of his welcoming address because of the crowds, so he slipped though the café's back door!"

"You met Prince Yamato? In- in your kitchen?"

"Highly improper, I know," Sora teased, enjoying her unflappable mother's surprise. "But yes. He looked like he wanted to hide under a counter!"

Toshiko cupped her forehead, but her wide eyes slowly normalized as she considered. "I'd believe you regardless, but that second part sells it."

Which, of course, wasn't nearly the reaction Sora expected. "Oh? Do you know him that well?"

"I don't know them as adults, but I gave the princes private lessons throughout their early childhood. This was before they left to live in Autun longterm."

"Really? I thought you only gave them a few!" Here, then, was a greater source of information than Sora had anticipated. Eagerly, she asked, "What was your impression of them?"

"Oh? I thought princes were silly," Toshiko replied, grinning once more.

"Not when they burst into your kitchen!" And just like that, Sora's face was warm again. Was it so odd that she was curious about such a strange encounter?

"Well, that may be so." Somehow, Toshiko's indulgent tone annoyed Sora further, and she struggled against the urge to tsk. "Prince Takeru was a delight, a charming ball of happy boy. He did more chattering than flower arranging, and what he made was colorful and overdone, as is to be expected from a child. But Prince Yamato... He surprised me."

"How's that?" Sora asked, drawn into the story despite herself.

Toshiko's gaze went unfocused as it turned inward to her memories. "Hmm… Mostly because of how hard he tried. He must have been under ten, but he focused the entire time. Most lads that age would rather play outside than think about flowers, but he seemed to enjoy it. Although I think he would have done a great many unpleasant things before admitting it!"

Sora toyed with the strings of her bag as she considered. Her mind summoned an image of the crown prince clinging to the kitchen door jamb for support, looking overstimulated. "I had the impression that he was a bit awkward, or at least overwhelmed."

"He never came off as awkward," Toshiko said. "Just… clumsy with his feelings. At that age, children often have far more emotions than experience in handling them. I recall that he was quiet, too- but then, I was an adult teacher. He might not be quiet with peers."

Sora hesitated, struggling to extract particulars from a memory made hazy by surprise. If she recalled, Yamato was occasionally slow to respond, but seemed more ruffled than shy. "I couldn't say, but he was struggling with the crowd. You'd think a prince would be accustomed to that."

"I doubt he was considered noteworthy in Autun. He'll have to adjust to being more important politically here. It's been such a long time…" Toshiko's tone went wistful. "I'd love to see the princes again..."

Sora tried to ignore a sting of jealousy and hurt. Toshiko adored her students, and often kept in touch with them years after their ikebana lessons ended. True, her students were mostly noble born, and networking was valuable. But she doted on them and gave them her time, attention, and affection during lessons, and often after.

It was difficult for the daughter of a strict, work-focused mother to watch.

And yet, contrarily, Sora had the urge to help. "I could ask." When Toshiko tipped her head in inquiry, she added, "He requested permission to come again through the back."

Sora didn't quite understand the concern in her mother's eyes. "I see... I wonder if he's homesick? Finding your café must have been a relief for him."

"Homesick? For Autun?" Sora frowned, puzzled. "Isn't Hakone home? It's where he was born, and where he'll rule someday."

"You'd have to ask him," Toshiko said gently, "although it's too personal to spring on him. You know yourself that duty can be complicated. Autun might have seemed... Like a simpler place? More familiar, certainly. He's lived there for about sixteen years, I believe- longer than he lived in Hakone."

I bet he could get coffee there without being rushed on the street. The celebratory air of the prince's return made Sora assume that he would be excited to be here, too. But now that her mother mentioned how long he spent in Autun… Well, Sora couldn't help feeling sympathetic. "I hope it helped him through the day. Now I'm extra glad I gave him the prince special and some flowers."

"You- You gave him a special suited around his tastes?"

Toshiko's wide-eyed astonishment made Sora laugh. "Yes, puits d'amour, like you mentioned."

"Right… The boys baked them before one of our lessons, and Prince Takeru saved one for me. I thought it charming that the princes baked with their mother, so I remembered..." Toshiko gave her head a little shake, shifting back to the present. "I'm proud of you, Sora. How like you to take care of a stranger in need. You fed him before you knew he was a prince, right? I imagine it would have been difficult to approach him, if you had known."

"I, I did," Sora stammered. She wasn't sure why she felt so jittery, but she wasn't enjoying it! "But it's just good business to-"

"To give away food? I think not. Adding an extra to an order is one thing. Letting a stranger have a free special in your kitchen is another!" When Sora proved too flustered to respond, Toshiko's smile developed a mischievous quality. "You know, he was an adorable boy, and his photograph in the paper was striking."

"It wasn't that!" Sora snapped. "He just looked overwhelmed, and I wanted to help!"

"So he is handsome, then!" Toshiko laughed, a rarity for a reserved woman.

"Mother!" Sora objected- and was even more ruffled by her awareness that getting worked up over her mother's teasing only supported her suggestions.

When Toshiko's laughter died, Sora gathered what remained of her dignity and changed the subject. "We've been having trouble keeping anything in stock since the prince returned. Thank you for your suggestions."

"You're welcome, but I should thank you. You encouraged me to market the prince's return, too. You're growing as a business woman, but remember, growing as an artist matters, too. How is your ikebana practice going?"

And there it was; another sharp sting. Everything came back to ikebana somehow, always. "I practice every day. I use whatever flowers don't sell during the day."

Toshiko gave Sora the building that housed her café, the funds to renovate it and start her business, and, perhaps most incredibly, the freedom to move out of the Takenouchi estate and pursue her own interests. All she asked in return was that Sora maintain her ikebana training independently and visit for continued lessons. Sora hadn't realized how heavily the weight of tradition hung over the estate until she left. These days, she breathed more easily than ever.

But physically leaving the Takenouchi estate failed to sever her from her ancestors- a line that had only two surviving members: Toshiko and herself. There was no one else to serve as the next iemoto. Toshiko could hold the post as long as her health remained intact, and would likely want to. Barring disaster, Sora had many, many years before she was called upon to ascend to grandmaster. That, Sora suspected, was why Toshiko allowed her these freedoms.

Sora loved ikebana, and she loved her mother, even if their relationship was strained. She intended to rise if needed. But the weight of the illustrious iemotos before her, of the duty she could not escape, was like a shadowy beast, a creature she sensed looming, whose hot breath rippled down her neck as she bent over ikebana pieces- pieces that could not begin to compete with Toshiko's. A beast who stared at her through Toshiko's eyes.

"That's good. Taking inspiration from what is available is a vital skill, but remember to intentionally plan pieces and buy what you need, too. And don't forget, you have a lesson with me on Friday."

And, in a voice so hard and tight that it didn't seem like hers, Sora murmured, "Yes, ma'am."

Her mother's expression remained the same: focused, a little strict. But somehow, Sora sensed a shift, and tensed. Was it her imagination, or was Toshiko not quite meeting her eye? "Now, Sora… Have you given any thought to the marriage offers I showed you?"

If Sora went any more rigid, her mother might mistake her for a tree trunk. This time, she didn't bother trying to mask her impatience. "Respectfully, I'm not interested."

Despite Toshiko's poise and control, a small sigh escaped her. "Well. I do understand. I married your father for love, against my parents' wishes."

Sora suspected her eyes were glazed. She marveled that she could feel furious and bored simultaneously. As an iemoto family with ancestral records as old as the Ishidas', the Takenouchis were as close to royalty as anyone could be without royal blood. So, when Toshiko fell in love with a young scholar, the third child of a semi-noble family, the match was sneered upon. But, like Sora, Toshiko was an only child, the only hope for the continuation of the family line. The marriage was reluctantly permitted, in exchange for Toshiko's contracted oath to become iemoto and produce an heir as soon as possible.

Which, frustratingly, circled back to Sora's predicament: lack of an heir, with no spare Takenouchis to produce more or take on the role of grandmaster. At Sora's age of twenty-six, Toshiko already had a five-year-old daughter. In contrast, Sora was childless and single.

As Toshiko wrapped up her old, often told tale of marriage to Haruhiko, Sora reluctantly tuned her attention back in. "If you marry for love, I'll support you. I want you to be happy. But we need an heir, and soon."

Thanks to Toshiko's youth and enjoyment of being grandmaster, Sora had a strong chance of a short tenure. If she had a child young enough, and that child wanted to become iemoto, then Sora might avoid her duty entirely. But without having met her children, or even knowing whom their father might be, Sora wanted to protect them from unwanted duties as long as possible. Already, she loved them, and sensed that she wanted them, although the concept felt nebulous and distant. Even as resentment churned in her mind, heart, and that visceral place deep within where intuition dwells, that love registered.

"Daughter?" Toshiko prodded. At last, her measured tone sharpened. Toshiko was frustrated, too, but that failed to comfort.

Sora's mouth was cemented shut, her only defense against bitter words. "I'm not seeing anyone," she somehow managed.

"I'm happy to arrange casual meetings with potential suitors. There would be no pressure at this stage. There's no harm in meeting people, yes? And with you so lovely, kind, and sensible, you would have no problems impressing them."

Sora drew a long, reedy breath. No pressure? What could be more personal than telling someone you weren't interested in them? And if the powerful, noble families these suitors belonged to took offense, it could cause trouble for Toshiko, despite her own impressive status. "No, thank you. I'd rather meet someone organically."

"But where? It's inappropriate to date employees, and each year, the student body will be younger than you. I suppose you could still meet graduate students…"

Sora bristled. "I do see people outside of the café-"

"Do you?"

Sora was stunned into silence. Of course she saw people! She saw people all day! Names and faces blinked through her mind, but she couldn't speak them. They were all café employees and regulars. She had noble friends that she made at school, and through ikebana classes. But they generally wanted to meet in the evening, when Sora was asleep, preparing to rise in the small morning hours to bake. Plans with friends were reserved for her days off, during which she often had ikebana lessons with Toshiko.

Toshiko reached for Sora, but paused and placed her hand back on her lap after observing her face. She seemed to gather herself before saying, "I want you to have everything you want, but are you spreading yourself too thin?"

"I'm fine." Sora loved her life now, and preferred it to living at the Takenouchi estate. It was lonely there, always feeling second to ikebana in Toshiko's life, knowing that she was born to fulfill a purpose- and a contractual obligation. Now, she had so many friends that she met and made on her own, friends who chided her to eat and rest and nosily made her business their business.

Friends that she struggled to meet up with because of the long hours she spent working at the café and training with Toshiko.

But Sora's tone left no quarter for further argument. Toshiko's expression went carefully blank, a mask to cover whatever she actually felt- a mask that Sora knew she sometimes wore, too. Toshiko nodded and turned her gaze back to her ikebana art. "Well, then. As lovely as it is to see you, I need to finish this piece. Have you thought of anything?"

Sora's hands bunched into fists on her knees, but somehow, her tone was even. "Maybe some blue? If all else fails, you can market the arrangement with the prince's favorite color."

"This is no laughing matter," Toshiko replied. "I have high hopes for this piece. Although... What if I draped blue flowers over it, like water..."

After a few more exchanges, it became clear that Toshiko was consumed by her art once more- a fierce, adroit focus that Sora couldn't manage. Sora said farewell, feeling admiration, an awful sense of inadequacy, and the blight of resentment.

Longing for comfort and distraction from duties she feared she could not fulfill, Sora made her rounds through the house, visiting with longtime employees who watched her grow up, and were family. And later, after his work, she would call her father, Haruhiko- the only member of her family who wasn't tied up in the Takenouchi legacy.

Author's Notes: I have so much fun with this story, thank you for enjoying it with me! I adore Sora, and I like to think about what her experience as iemoto heiress might be like, both in canon and AU. It seems so difficult! And when you mixed this charged atmosphere with her tendency to misunderstand herself and place others before herself, it's a bit of a powder keg.

I had ideas for Duty, Pt 3 while editing parts 1 and 2. Unlike the rest of the posted chapters, the next update is not written yet. This means the next chapter will likely be delayed. My goal is to have it up within a month. It might go live earlier, but please be prepared for a four week wait. Next chapter, Yamato will call Takeru with Jyou, and Sora will call Haruhiko. We'll learn a lot about how the class system works in this AU, and what that means for everyone.

Please leave a review, I would love to hear from you 3 Take care, my friends!