"Kiku must become Shogun quickly after I die," the withering old Shogun persisted to Yao. The Chinaman stood a yard away, arms crossed, and his eyes to the floor. An expression of restrained discomfort near evident if he didn't look down so much.
The Shogun paid little attention, placing his gaze to some random spot in the ceiling. If it weren't for the occasional question of Yao's agreement, some would imagine he was talking to an unseen being.
"Yes, Shogun-sama, do not worry,"
The dying man gave a sigh of relief, his wrinkles tightening in an attempt to smile. However, he became serious the second Yao mentioned of his Master's current health.
"He is feeling better now, the wound is just a faint scar now,"
"My son," the Shogun mused, "he is your responsibility in terms of his conditions; if he is to be attacked again you must serve your duty and give your life to protect by any means necessary."
Yao nodded, bowing low till he grunted. Dismissed, the Chinaman bid him a good day and was escorted by a doting servant.
His mind was heavy about the frightening event two nights ago. Kiku struggled to stand and his unfortunate omen was left in his presence. He could remember the look of smoldering disdain in her eyes towards his young Master. Yao knew little English, but the wolf's eye was unmistakable.
The night had been cool, brisk, and the moon appeared bigger than usual. Yao took the initiative to seek for his young Master, but the servants redirected him to the courtyard where he was last reportedly seen. In his search he managed to find himself distracted by the beauty the night presented. Spring was in its midst of breathing vitality unto the lands, but the hint of summer was making its appearance. In the shadows of the smaller edifices occupying the courtyard before the massive temple, voices of attendants and workers filled the atmosphere. There was nothing much of appeal to eavesdrop in, but Yao strained anyways, hoping to detect gossip of the girl or Kiku's whereabouts. Much to his good fortune nothing in that ghastly range of the girl was mentioned, however, word of suspicious activity on his young Master was reported.
Did you hear? He went to personally shop for peculiar items, what a rarity!
On his own? He hardly leaves the temple.
Oh! But he did!
Where from?
Word is, is that he buys from the foreign scums.
How peculiar…
Do you think he fancies things outside of his own homeland?
A sharp intake of breath told of the horror at such a suggestion.
Yao shuddered at the thought yet he knew his young Master was only accompanying for the damned outsider. With a huff his cheeks flushed and he stormed passed the denizens of the royal grounds, summoning an armed man to join him as he hurried through the opening gates. By the end of the bridge where the royal ferryman stood by his teetering boat, they met gazes as the boatman chewed absently, his mind seemingly elsewhere.
Yao slipped some coins between his trembling fingers, "Where is young Master?"
The boatman had flickered his attention to the coins. He made a face. His disinterested was largely apparent until the Chinaman sighed contemptuously, fingering his pockets for a silver one.
It was known that the ferryman was a drunk, a drunk who, to all intents and purposes, knew his place and nourished his spirits upon darkness. Unfortunately, it would last until the sun would rise. However, thinking himself an equal only drank the finest for nobles. How he got away with this could be found in Kiku's eyes when they crinkled in amusement while they engaged in conversation. None of the royal families had taken a liking of the upcoming Shogun's joviality with the commoners, but they said nothing.
Far as anyone knew and wanted to live, questioning was out of the question. Yao wondered how Kiku's fiancée or rather the woman yet to be picked from Kyoto would think of Kiku's social quirk.
A toothy grin shot across the boatman's brown visage and held out his worn palm greedily, his fingers urging Yao to drop the coins. He cursed internally and queried for his Master's whereabouts. After a tinkling of a drop into his waist pocket, held by a worn rope, the drunk pointed back to the palace.
"He just returned a minute ago with odd goods in tow, you missed him, sir," a hearty laugh escaped him as he lifted a hefty bottle of spirits for evidence. "He tells me the drinks of the foreigners are good, or so he had heard. I intend to try them out!" the boatman looked over the bottle adoringly. "Would you like to join me later? Hey, I think you should Yao, it'd remove that sour mask you're wearing!"
Without another word Yao dashed, his robes flowing after. Another hearty laugh expedited his return into the palace. He roared for his young Master's presence, earning wondering stares as he went.
"Why do you insist on visiting me?" You screwed up an eye at Kiku's sudden entrance. He looked frazzled while he placed before you familiar goods. You wondered briefly of the look in his eyes, but your resentment held the better of you.
Like a cat you leaned forward towards the goods as Kiku tiptoed away. Pawing through, an excitement took place on your lips, an eagerness that reminded you of your need to get back home. In your moment of giddiness, he took the moment to declare his gladness of your appreciation in which you flinched back. With arms crossed, you quietly mumbled a 'thanks'.
"But this doesn't excuse what you have done, you wretch…" you said acidly, throwing him a glare.
His eyes widened. A look of hurt in them while his mouth gaped opened. Recomposing himself the young Master only gave you a smile. A smile that you couldn't refuse on returning, but for you your smiles appeared more like hidden smirks, a good thing now that you had thought about it.
"Well, seeing how not much more can be said, I bid you goodnight," Kiku bowed respectfully, his midnight black hair veiling his eyes and he returned back into perfect posture. Without further ado, he left you a cordial smile.
After a minute of his footfalls ceasing into the distance, you got to your feet and kicked over the supplies. You screamed into your hands as would a lion could roar. You hated being here. Imprisoned. What was your former target trying to prove!? You stormed towards the window, forcefully sliding it open and you crawled out. On this night the moon had been unusually large. As the warm light caressed your gaunt cheeks, you stopped to appreciate it despite your fury.
"Is this why you fell in love with this place?"
From the right a sudden wind whooshed, carrying a barrage of Sakura petals in a formation only achieved by seasonal birds. It was as though a spirit guided them, wringing them into art as you watched. The petals flew before the moon, glowing like gems hidden in a distant cave. The winds whispered an unknown melody, a melody that only the petals knew how to dance too.
"Japan is beautiful, I feel at home here," a voice echoed.
"But you belong back at home!"
Again, the voice echoed a laugh. "This is home,"
Tears welled into your eyes, your chest tightened. You brought a hand over your heart once the tears cascaded in rivulets. Ignoring the possibility of anyone hearing you, you roared your pain for anyone to hear.
Upon entering his posh room, he found a shadow stretched across the room. Its source sat before the largely decorated window where Yao was found kneeled with his eyes boring over a shiny token. Noticing his young Master's return, he only turned his head enough for him to his waist.
"What is the meaning of this?" A click preceded the token's opening.
Two pictures.
He lifted it towards the light for a better view, but it was snatched before he could see the faces.
"Who gave you permission to launder through my room?"
The Chinaman flinched at Kiku's sudden hostility. Not one to be spoken down to, Yao stumbled onto his feet, raising a hand.
You're responsible for your Master's safety; take any means necessary, even your life.
A brief memory of the past flooded his memory. He closed his eyes, swung his hand downwards until a cry halted him midway. Yao shot open his eyes. They both stared, horror stricken.
Kiku shoved Yao to the side, his hand still clenching the token as he popped his head out the window. There you were, tears staining your eyes while you clung onto the edge. You hadn't meant too, but you fell over.