Chapter 8

On the third day after lighting the first green smoke, the bustling activities on the palace grounds had settled into a quiet buzz.

As the Master Scholar, Reito had been busy attending ceremony after ceremony, and even the mention of lighting a lamp had started to wear him down. Moreover, the annual scholar admission exams would be taking place soon and he would be overseeing the planning for the event. Fortunately for him, the punishing days were nearly over and he had found himself with some free time. It just so happened that Sakomizu had also taken a rest day, and the two had agreed to meet.

After a small stroll, Reito found himself at the entrance to the Herbal Conservatory. It was a botanical garden built within a glass house, situated between the Star and Moon palaces. He pushed the glass doors open and walked in.

What marvel, he thought as his eyes roamed the place. Rows and rows of various kinds of flora grew tall and full, filling the place with a quirky vibrancy. The plants had just been watered, and the misty sheen in the air made Reito feel as if he'd stepped into the story of some childhood tale.

From over the tops of plants a few rows ahead, Reito could spot the bobbling curls of Sakomizu's hair. He made his way towards the healer, scanning his eyes over the foliage as he stepped forward. He recognized a few of them. Phoenix tea leaf, monk's moss, bone root…

Reito stopped a few steps away from the Sakomizu, who was busy pruning the dead branches of a large bush. The scholar wasn't in a hurry; he waited patiently for the healer to finish his work, and found himself looking down at a growth of large purple leaves. The plant glimmered mysteriously, as if it were sprinkled with a fine sheen of ruby dust. How interesting… Reito reached down to touch it.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

Reito stopped and looked at the healer, who was still pruning the branches.

"It could be poisonous depending on the person. Better not to risk it," Sakomizu continued. He looked at the younger man, who had been the source of his nightmares and worries as of late. "...On second thought, maybe it is better if you touch it."

"Oh?"

To Sakomizu's apparent surprise, Reito lowered his hand and pinched a part of the plant between his fingers. The ruby dust settled over his palms, and Reito pulled lightly, plucking a leaf. He held it up to himself, his grey eyes smiling at Sakomizu.

"Lavender Death," Reito said. "The dust can be used in various remedies, but the chance of allergies can be fairly high, around thirty five percent. I've worked with it before. Fortunately, it seems I'm not affected."

Sakomizu broke the last dead branch off. His voice was low with a frown. "It's actually twenty seven percent. I still need to update the records."

Reito ignored the remark and returned the leaf back to the soil. He smiled genially. "It's quite the garden you've managed to cultivate here."

The healer gave a small mutter of thanks.

"I recognize a few of these," Reito said. His tone was charming. "Some common, but there's quite a few rare varieties I've only seen in books."

"You have a good eye. Many of the samples were collected over my years of studying, long ago," Sakomizu responded, with a hint of pride. "Some gifts from other lands, even. Healers from across Fuuka can access the records on these plants."

"Very impressive. I've read that many of these are extremely hard to grow. It's a wonder how you've gotten them to take root at all."

Sakomizu's face perked up. "It is very difficult. Very few recognize the hard work it takes to ensure the environment can sustain such a myriad of plants — the watering, the soil — everything needs to be controlled and measured."

"Yes, indeed. Your efforts do not go unnoticed. I wonder — do you grow any moonlits? Perhaps you've found out something interesting recently?"

"Ah, yes, moonlits. I'm growing a few batches here. Actually, I've been studying something peculiar — " Sakomizu caught himself, and his enthusiasm died as quickly as it came. He eyed the scholar distrustingly. "Before we get to that, did you bring it?"

"...Of course."

I was so close, Reito thought, keeping a pleasant smile on his face. I must be getting rusty. He pulled out the vial of black scratch Shizuru had given to him and handed it over to the healer.

Sakomizu pushed his glasses up and eyed the vial closely, mumbling to himself. He nodded after a while. "Yes, this is it — do you know which area this was harvested from?"

"I'm afraid not."

Sakomizu shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It should react the same way."

Reito raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see. Come with me." Sakomizu beckoned for him to follow, and went farther back into the garden. They stopped in front of one area, where two distinct patches of moonlits were planted.

Reito eyed the first batch. The flowers in this batch were wilting, and their petals were yellowed. It looked much like the affliction Reito had been studying earlier — the one that seemed to be spreading across the moonlits in various spots in Fuuka.

"So they're even dying here?" Reito asked, holding his chin. "It seems as if we're in for trouble."

Sakomizu nodded solemnly. "The wilting of moonlits has been limited so far, but it's especially bad in areas near the west. They're expecting bad harvests this year... I believe some cities may have to tap into their grain reserves."

Reito looked at the much smaller second batch of moonlits. Despite their size, unlike the other, these flowers were growing strong, nearly bursting with unfurled buds and petals. How… Reito thought.

"It's something to do with what's in the black scratch," Sakomozu said, as if reading his thoughts. "Do you know what scratch is made of?"

"Yes," Reito replied. There wasn't a standard way of making the drug; commonly, many different kinds of chemicals were mixed in with the liquid. However, there was still one common ingredient used in all scratch: moonlit nectar.

"Well," Sakomizu said. "I haven't pinpointed it directly, but something has changed in the moonlits. It's in the nectar — the reason why scratch is black now. But I wouldn't say that's a bad sign… it looks to be something good." He held up the vial. "Have you ever tried using this on a dying moonlit?"

On a dying moonlit? The idea was strange and piqued Reito's interest. "I can't say it ever crossed my mind to try."

"Well, look here."

Sakomizu popped the lip off of the glass tube and poured a few drops onto the first batch of wilting flowers. A single flower within the group began to die, drying out brown and yellow, but from its base came the tiniest sprout. It slowly unfurled, revealing a small leaf.

Reito's brows furrowed slightly in astonishment. What magic is this?

"I've tested some old vials of blue scratch, but there's no reaction. Previously harvested moonlit nectar must not be the same." Sakomizu said. "But just what is making the flowers different? And why are they changing now?"

"The newly harvested nectar — does it have some sort of special healing properties?" the scholar asked.

"It's not quite healing," Sakomizu said, putting the cap back on the vial. "I thought that at first too. But after studying it for longer, I realized that it doesn't fix the current state of a wilting moonlit. No, it quickens its death and causes a rebirth."

"Why haven't we used this earlier? We can harvest more nectar and use them on the fields."

Sakomizu shook his head. "That's impossible. Do you know how many moonlits have to be harvested for even this small amount of scratch? Of course you should — you've read about it, haven't you? The amount of flowers it'll take to fix the existing fields could cripple the rest of the land."

"Then is there anything that can be done?"

Sakomizu didn't respond.

Reito stared at the healer, his grey eyes searching. "You're hiding something, aren't you? What are you working on?"

Sakomizu's face grew apprehensive, and he gave a light shrug. "That's for another day." He waved at the scholar in a shooing motion. "I have another appointment to attend soon. We can meet another time."

After a moment of reluctance, Reito decided not to push and exited the conservatory. The instant he stepped out, a red envelope fell from up top; it had been stuck between the corner of the doorframe. Reito recognized the seal — it must have been delivered by one of Yamada's messengers. He picked it up quickly.

When the scholar reached the privacy of his study, he opened the envelope. A small, dried flower was nestled inside, and along with it a slip of paper. Shizuru, he thought. What now?

On the paper, penned gracefully with ink, was a message:

True or false; those born in the royal family are always born without markings.

Reito reread the message again.

I've already taken the scholar exam once, he thought, sighing inwardly. Must I do it again?

In a standardized test, Reito would have answered it to be true; however, he knew in this case it wasn't truly a question, but a request — his red-eyed friend wanted him to look into something.

I need to start charging for this, Reito thought, and his lips tugged up in a smile.

Days earlier, Natsuki had woken up from her death-like sleep. At first she had been nothing but despondent, almost in a trance. However, it wasn't long before the woman reverted back to her cold demeanor, and lately, Shizuru felt as if a season had passed.

Whatever happened that night combined with their earlier conflict seemed to have transformed Natsuki into dear lady winter herself — frosty, far more easily irritated, and all the more silent. Even her best efforts to converse were met by nothing but dark looks, and Shizuru had mulled over the events of that day in her head.

Perhaps I could have been more tactful, she thought to herself and tugged her hood lower, just above her eyes. But that wasn't all that was on her mind lately — she knew she had pushed Natsuki too far. Shizuru breathed out a sigh and leaned against the wood surface in front of her. She was currently sitting at one of the tables in the Swinging Door, looking across the room at Natsuki. Like a shadow, she had been following the other woman around, watching her from a distance. Her lips curved into a self-deprecating smile. Just what have I become?

Natsuki had also pulled her hood on and was sitting alone in a dimly lit corner. She had a small set of bread and cheese in front of her, but for the longest time had made no effort to eat. In fact, it seemed as if the woman never ate; for all the time Shizuru had watched Natsuki, she never once saw her consume anything but water, and it was a wonder how she wasn't wasting away.

Shizuru languidly rested her chin on her hand. For a while, nothing happened. Then there was movement — a man had taken a seat next to Natsuki. Shizuru perked up, watching on with curious eyes. To her chagrin, she found herself unable to hear the man over the chatter, but could get a gist of the conversation through their body language.

The man had leaned suggestively forward, and Natsuki pushed her chair away, clearly annoyed, her face twisting with a look of disgust. Just when it seemed as if the dark-haired woman was about to stand up and go, the man reached out to grab her wrist.

For an instant Shizuru could smell a familiar sweet fragrance mixed in with the heavy scents of fried oil, and she narrowed her eyes. Was Natsuki really about to use her gift just now? How silly.

Shizuru quickly intervened and grasped the man's mind. "Let go," she commanded. The man dropped his hand immediately. Just as she had expected, his mind wasn't very strong at all.

She made her way to Natsuki's table. When she was close enough, she turned to the man, whispering low.

"Leave."

Without any hesitation, the man staggered out the front door with a clamor.

Not a soul nearby seemed to notice the exchange, and the chatter in the room was as loud as ever.

Shizuru slowly sat down next to Natsuki and rested her chin in both hands. "Well, I'm surprised… Were you about to use your gift? He didn't look like the type of man to be chased away by flowers," she said, looking at Natsuki with a teasing smile.

The expression on Natsuki's face shifted to something even more dark. If looks could have killed, Shizuru was sure she would have met many painful deaths in the past few days. Luckily, she had built up an immunity recently, and even the slightest bit of discomfort had all but disappeared.

Natsuki stood up to leave once again, but this time it was Shizuru who grasped her wrist.

Natsuki gave Shizuru a sharp glare. "Let go."

So angry. Shizuru released her grip and let Natsuki move past her. But as she watched the woman's retreating back, she bit her lower lip, thought for a moment, and spoke.

"Natsuki, wait."

The steps stopped abruptly, and Natsuki looked over her shoulder, green eyes shining with impatience.

Shizuru quickly strung some words together. "I know I may have said some things to offend you, and I, well…" Her voice trailed off, yet the emotion in Natsuki's face seemed to soften ever so slightly, and Shizuru seized the opportunity. "Regardless, I do hope we can start over on the right foot. Perhaps you'll allow me to try and make amends?" she said, smiling gently. "If you'd like, you can think of it as a favor for me — a thanks for just now — to make things even."

Natsuki said nothing for a long time, and Shizuru began to doubt herself, unsure if she would be rejected once again. A moment later, the dark-haired woman answered.

"Okay."

At the word, Shizuru's red eyes lit up and she smiled. "Then follow me." She stood up quickly and headed to the door, giving Natsuki no time to change her mind.

With Shizuru leading the way using various short-cuts she had discovered in the days of their stay, it didn't take the pair very long until they reached their destination — the shrine.

Unlike the first time Shizuru had visited, she could actually see an end to the line of mourners, and the red lamps tied to the ropes of the structure were now evenly spaced out — much more pleasing than its previously overflowing look. Even the paper lanterns that made up the eruption of faux moonlits at the top of the pillars had been changed to a glimmering light blue, painting the scene all the more beautiful than she had remembered.

Beside her, Natsuki had stilled to the point of not breathing, and she could see those green eyes flicker with a complicated emotion, one of both wonderment and sorrow. After a moment of silence, Shizuru broke the woman's trance.

"Come," she said, tapping lightly once on Natsuki's arm.

There was one shrine keeper near the one of the base of the pillars, manning the rows of lamps hanging across the ropes. Behind him, stacked in a display, were new red lamps to be given out to the mourners in line — but when Shizuru approached him with coin in hand, he readily offered one up, along with a stick of wood.

He pointed to a nearby torch. "Light it there, and bring it back when you're ready."

Shizuru led the still silent Natsuki over to the flames and turned to face her directly. "I know this might have been too forward, but if you'd like..." She lifted the thin piece of wood toward her.

It took a moment of staring at the outreached hand before Natsuki finally moved; when she did, she briefly lifted her eyes to catch Shizuru's, and with the smallest of nods burned one end of the stick like a struck match.

Shizuru held the lamp steadily as Natsuki brought the tiny flame over, lit the inside, and blew out the end of the stick; smoke wisped out of the lamp in small tendrils of dark navy, and as it traveled higher, it faded to a lighter blue. In silence, the pair watched with upturned eyes the column of smoke that now painted the sky.

How beautiful, Shizuru thought, feeling a small weight lift off her shoulders.

She continued to stare at the drifting blue above, waiting patiently until Natsuki was ready to return to the shrine keeper. At last, when they handed the lamp back over to be hung, she could hear Natsuki mutter:

"Thank you."

She smiled. "Well, there's one more place nearby, if you're interested…"

After the other had acquiesced, Shizuru led Natsuki to the city market, and there they walked along the stalls, every so often pausing to look at peculiar knick-knacks. Shizuru watched her companion's face with amusement; Natsuki's eyes were filled with curiosity — there was no doubt that it was her first time seeing many of these things — and when they stopped at a stall selling colorful wooden tops, Shizuru could see Natsuki's gaze linger.

"As a child, did you ever play with these?" Shizuru asked, pointing to one of the tops with the tilt of her chin. Seeing Natsuki shake her head with a no, she smiled. "Well, if you twist it..." She gently took the handle of one top and spun it swiftly with her fingers; the wooden toy began to twirl, its stripes melding into a single stream of color, and Natsuki watched with a look of interest.

When it fell back to its side, Shizuru smiled and asked, "Would you like to try?"

Natsuki, still looking amused, shook her head lightly, and soon after, the pair continued on walking.

For the next little while, Shizuru let her mind wander aimlessly, once again only paying attention to the stall displays when something interesting caught her eye. She wasn't sure how long it had been, but when she next shifted her eyes to the woman beside her, she was pricked with a sudden curiosity.

"So tell me, what was it like growing up in the palace?"

Natsuki looked her way briefly. "It was…" She turned her eyes to the floor, seeming to be in deep thought. When she looked back up, she shrugged lightly. "Boring."

Boring? Shizuru raised a brow. In her head she pictured golden pillars, lavish clothes, and opulent dinners — anything you could ask for. How could that be anything but boring? Well, to each their own. "Then what did you do to pass the time?"

"I had lessons."

"What on?"

"Plants."

"Not anything else?"

"Sometimes. Not often."

My… How peculiar. Shizuru had expected at least a little bit more — evenback in her days at the Head Sanctuary, all of the children were forced to take classes that spanned for hours at a time, and she couldn't help but be a bit envious. She poised another question on her lips, but there was no chance for another word — a display had captured Natsuki's eyes, and she had gone over to take a look.

It was a stand selling candied apples; the same one Shizuru had seen the night she had found Natsuki walking in a daze. The stall owner was preparing one at the moment; the two watched as he lit a fire in the palm of his hand, melted a pile of sugar, and drizzled it over an apple. When he was done, he sliced the fruit into pieces and pierced them through with thin wooden sticks. He handed them to Shizuru, and she slipped him some irons in return.

"Here, try it first if you'd like." She handed the candied apples over to Natsuki.

Natsuki stared down at the slices of fruit, just as she had stared at the bread and cheese earlier — as if she couldn't muster the will to consume any of it. After a while, she looked at Shizuru with a complex expression.

"I can't."

Can't? Shizuru wanted to ask her what she meant, but the thought was interrupted by a soft whisper. The tone of the voice was conniving, and she felt a tingle in the back of her mind telling her that something was wrong.

"Yes, that's them." The whisper came again.

From the corner of her eye, Shizuru saw a nearby shopkeeper point a chin their way. It was the same stall Natsuki had knocked into nights before.

I wonder who you're talking to. Shizuru shifted discreetly to get a better look.

It was a group of three men. They were dressed in light leather armor, colored all in black. The design was similar to that of the royal guard, but Shizuru felt that there was something different about them. The way they walked and moved was more efficient… more dangerous.

"It seems we've got bad company," Shizuru said quietly to Natsuki. "It's time to leave."

Natsuki looked past her at the group and nodded slightly. The two headed back from where they came, moving quickly.

How odd, Shizuru thought after a while and looked around carefully. The men were well hidden, almost as if they weren't following at all. Her lips pulled into frown.

The rest of their walk back was surprisingly uneventful; when they arrived back in their room at the Swinging Door, there was still no sign of the men — even so, Shizuru couldn't afford to let her guard down. She stood in the middle of the room with Natsuki near the back, facing the closed door. Her hands were at her side, slightly flexed and ready to move.

Sure enough, it wasn't long until there was a small noise.

To most, it would have sounded like nothing but battered leaves in the wind; to Shizuru's trained ears, it sounded like light footsteps on the roof. There was a creeping near the window. More footsteps. Then another creak near the entranceway.

Shizuru's body moved on instinct, and the second the door clicked open, she was there with a dagger in hand.

The stranger at the door stepped in — and she drove the point of the dagger through his shoulder. For a fraction of a breath they were face to face. The man let slip the edge of a strangled wheeze — and in one furious, long-practiced movement she slammed him away and wrenched her weapon free.

Her mind buzzed, and she shifted her weight once, twice, between the balls of her feet. The wound was a little shallow; the man had twisted with uncanny speed at the last moment, avoiding what should have been a fatal blow.

He's gifted, she thought, and despite everything, the thought sent a thrill through her body.

The sudden sound of a window cracking behind her interrupted her thoughts. There was a breeze — then a flurry of movement — and she whirled just in time to see the suspended figure of a second soldier crashing down upon her.

The time to think would have been a luxury. By reflex alone she lunged for his mind.

"Fall."

The word echoed cold and all encompassing. The man's eyes widened, and, caught in his own momentum, he stumbled as his feet met the ground — she pulled herself sideways, a hair's breadth from his careening reach.

Thundering footfalls. The air-rush of an advancing figure. Shizuru leapt backwards as the first guard threw himself at her again. She twisted expertly, fluid and languid as a dancer, and frowned to herself. It was difficult to fight here.

She spared a quick glance at Natsuki. The other woman stood with her back to the wall, wide-eyed and tense. Were the soldiers here for her? Was their intent to capture or kill?

Wait…

Shizuru's eyes narrowed at a thought — there was someone missing. There should have been three men. Where was the third one?

She heard him before she could see him.

There was the sound of metal; from above, the tip of a sword gleamed perilously as a shadow came plummeting downward.

Shizuru felt pressure as the blade nearly scored her back, but she turned on her heel, narrowly dodging the attack.

Adrenaline pumped within her, and when she saw the shadow of the third guard landing on his feet, it seemed almost in slow motion. The instant he touched the floor, Shizuru found herself smiling. She already had him.

"Freeze."

The third guard stopped moving for a split second, but it was all Shizuru needed. She lunged, and this time her dagger found its killing spot.

She ripped her embedded blade from his neck with an ocean's spray of red. He slammed to the ground on his side. Dead.

The other two guards froze. They looked at each other, poised and panting, and Shizuru seized her chance in this moment of weakness. She turned to face them directly, gently felt the edges of one of the guard's minds, and with a slow breath in, her body relaxed.

"Stop."

The guard froze. His eyes, glaring in rebellion, were the only thing still under his own power. Shizuru drew her last dagger from its place with the fluidity of a violin bow. Time to end this, she thought.

The dagger flew across the room, straight for those glaring eyes — but at the last second her target crashed to the ground with the full-body shove of his companion. Shizuru scrabbled to seize his mind, but she opened her mouth too late — her saving words died on her tongue with the sight of a blade leaving the guard's fingers.

She threw herself to the side. The sword whistled past, close enough that her ears rang.

When she righted herself, the men were gone. She rushed to the edge of the open window, and watched the already far-off shadows of the guards — one carrying the other — leaping across rooftops.

Shizuru had a momentary thought of following them, but held her place. she wouldn't be able to catch up to them as it were. They'll be back soon enough, I'm sure.

The beating of the mind Shizuru held in her grasp dwindled as the men moved farther away, and she felt its presence all but disappear a moment later.

… And with its disappearance came the sinister arrival of something else.

A wild cackling peeled through Shizuru's head, and she covered her hand to her ear, trying to block out the deafening sound. It stopped abruptly, but was followed next by the far away whispering of a man's voice.

Her eyes widened.

It couldn't be.

She turned sharply toward the guard lying on the ground. There was no movement, save for the dripping of blood.

He was dead — then what was that she heard just now?

An eerie silence filled the air.

Then, in a crescendo, the whispers began once more. Creeping low hisses wormed their way inside her head. Slowly at first; then from every which direction they seemed to echo — along with a screaming — in a frenzy of sound. Yelling, laughter, and the screeching cries of wailing resounded — louder and louder. They filled her head so angrily, Shizuru thought she'd bleed at ears.

Another howl. More yelling. Shrieking.

Then came the burning.

There was a searing near the top of her shoulder, like flames being dragged across her skin. When the smell of charred flesh filled the air around her, she could no longer stand. She fell hard to her knees, gripping the sides of her head in painful agony.

"Shizuru."

Amidst the chaos in her mind, she was vaguely aware of the urgent call of her name. A hand was placed on top of her back, feeling cold against the scorching heat of her body. For a moment she could see the rustle of fabric — clothes similar to her own — and the sway of dark hair.

Natsuki?

The thought was interrupted by another rain of terrorizing screams in her mind. Voices low and high reverberated in her ears, white with anger, sending scorching stabs through her head. She trembled from the pain, keeping close to the ground, her eyes wide from the shock.

Unrelenting, the wave of sound crashed down again. How long would it be until she lost her sanity? She wasn't sure.

Then let go, a hysterical voice snickered in her thoughts. It taunted her relentlessly, and in her mind flashed a picture of a dagger. She felt the creeping want to drive the weapon into her own neck. You know you want to.

A sob. Manic laughter. The ringing of a bell. Pain from flames.

Wouldn't death be better than this?

No, she urged herself. Pull yourself together. She still had something she could do, didn't she? She still had some scratch.

"...My pocket," Shizuru managed to utter between the sounds pounding in her head. "There's a vial."

She felt a cold touch on her legs and the feeling of tugging. Soon after, through the blur in her eyes, she could make out the shimmer of dark liquid in front of her.

A few drops fell upon her lips, and the second she swallowed, there was nothing but silence.

A moment of relief.

Then everything went black.

A/N:

Hi all, hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave any thoughts you may have. :)

I know it hasn't been long since I last updated this story, so this chapter might come as a surprise. Unfortunately I've decided to stop doing regular 2-3 week updates. This doesn't mean I'm not working on the story - I'm just going to drop chapters whenever I feel that they're ready, so it might be a bit sporadic.