Disclaimer: I do not own Ai Yori Aoshi and Ai Yori Aoshi Enishi. This is the property of Kou Fumizuki, Pioneer/Geneon, and JC Staff.
Blue Monarch
Act 4, Scene 5
Aoi kneeled in the shade of their tree. The tree that was etched into their memories, and their memories etched into it. Her fingers delicately traced the grooves and scratches Kaoru-sama's key inflicted upon the bark, feeling the lines and scrawlings of two happy children.
Her eyes came unfixed, focusing past the rough surface of the tree bark. It was a very beautiful day, and tomorrow looked even brighter.
She would be putting her money to good use by helping others achieve their dreams. Her dear cousin would receive the power and position that he deserved, and he certainly would do a wonderful job. She had made her peace and was able to find herself finally over Kaoru. The life she would live would not be for herself.
She tied her ankles together, then smoothed her kimono back in place.
All her affairs had been settled.
Blue eyes turned to a small wooden tray that settled at her side. To the slender tokkuri and the white yamahai that held a small amount of curiously strong sake.
Aoi picked it up and held it, regarding the drink.
Drinking it in one sip meant haste and greediness.
Three sips would be stingy and hesitant.
So she took two sips, not flinching as the alcohol burned the back of her throat and infused her with numbing warmth. One of those had been for herself, the other for him.
Her hand went to the Hanabishi betrothal dagger, thumb brushing over the lacquered sheath adorned with her would-be husband's former clan symbol. Aoi remembered her father giving her the tanto. It was just shortly after he had given his word on the matter of finding another match.
"Very well, my daughter. It is your choice."
She did not know how to take this acknowledgement. His tone did not give anything away.
Anxious to end the meeting, she made a move to bow and take her leave, but was caught off guard when her father leaned forward towards her, as close to a low bow as he could manage.
She swallowed the gasp that threatened to jump from her lips, making a short noise of confusion in her throat.
Sakuraba-sama evened his gaze on her, momentarily holding his stoic face then letting it go. He appeared tired.
"Aoi, I had told you before that as a parent, all I could wish for is my child's happiness. But I am the head of the zaibatsu, and you are the daughter of the head. It is very difficult to reconcile the wishes of a parent to the responsibilities of the Sakuraba, and happiness is often sacrificed in favour of duty. Daughter, you have realized that responsibility, and the sacrifice you are making... As a leader, I am grateful for it. As your father, I am saddened. I feel as if my blessing was not enough to stop this."
He reached behind himself and brought forward a small dagger. It was beautiful.
Hesitantly, Aoi reached forward and took it, holding it up for inspection.
A black lacquered sheath revealed her reflection, eyes open in wonderment. Her eyes followed the rare and subtle strokes of pink that had been dashed onto the wood; the effect was to look like sakura blossoms scattered in the wind. She turned it over in her hands, and her eye caught a clan symbol painted close to the hilt. She grasped it and pulled away, finding the same emblem engraved into the blade, on the very same spot.
She pushed the blade back in and looked wide eyed at her father.
"Otou-sama?"
"That tanto was given to us by the Hanabishi during the betrothal preparations."
Of course she knew it was from Hanabishi. She had spent countless hours memorizing and lovingly tracing over the lines of its flowery kamon.
"In giving that to us, it was a symbol of goodwill; it meant that the Hanabishi would keep their promise. Unfortunately, it was not so. I know that you would have wanted nothing more than to be that boy's wife, and you had gone so far to pursue that, but you are giving up your dream for Sakuraba. What I am doing is a futile gesture, and it most likely does not bring you a lot of comfort, but I give you this so that you may have something of him. As your father, I would offer you more, but as head, this is all I can give."
Tears welled from the pools of blue, unabashedly overflowing.
"Otou-sama..." Aoi whimpered, clutching the dagger close to her.
Her father did not bow to her again, but gave an understanding nod. He shifted onto his feet and left her alone.
It was not out of gratitude that she was weeping.
She was crying because with that dagger, her barely scabbed wounds were torn open again.
She had lied.
She would never find herself over Kaoru-sama.
Why didn't she fight to keep him?
Maybe she was too selfless.
Why didn't he stop and stay with her?
Maybe he was too selfish.
Or maybe it was all reversed, or that they were all selfish.
Fingers lightly traced over the length of it, a sake blush colouring her cheeks as she caressed it tenderly, like a lover.
Her mind ventured towards her most sensual duties as a wife, and she was wryly saddened that she would never again experience such a wondrous and intimate activity with the only person she had saved herself for.
Her hand tentatively gripped the shaft and pulled slowly.
She looked at the naked length, her eyes fixed on the engraved kamon that adorned the hilt.
She regarded the tanto. She could give it back to Kaoru, when she could face him without breaking down at the sight of him. But he probably would not want it back. This dagger would only be a reminder of the cruel zaibatsu he left behind.
To her, it symbolized the promise between two families, the promise in her heart, and it would be a reminder of the one she would always love.
Aoi found that part of Kaoru-sama was with her, always.
Always within her.
She lifted it high in the air, almost in offering, and looked up at it. She craned her neck until it was bared.
A beam of sunlight peeked through the leafy canopy, winking off the metal and into her eyes.
A cool wind blew and carried the far off scent of the sakura blossoms.
The ghost of a stray petal flew past her vision.
She closed her eyes to the world, and within the inky, encompassing blackness, all she could see was pure indigo.