The war didn't last long.
At Kokumei's orders, backed by Touke's own authority, the air cavalry continued to make minor strikes, hit and run tactics, coming down hard on a location then fleeing. Sometimes they would stay longer, providing air support as ground troops hacked away at defenses. They continued on this for a couple weeks, slowly chipping away at the Chousai's territory. Then, a loyalist in the capitol palace sent a message: the Chousai was sending his own cavalry.
They had to react quickly. They flew most of their kijuu, leaving a few behind to maintain a presence, to the nearest Ryou'un mountain loyal to the Throne. They rocketed into the sky, only pausing a moment for Kokumei and Touke to acquire their own kijuu, and to quickly gather supplies for a single meal. Then they again took to the air, and started flying, above Unkai.
Along the way, Touke gripped at the reigns of her kijuu until her knuckles turned white. She wasn't afraid of falling—she had gotten practice on kijuu the last few weeks. She wasn't really afraid of the Chousai's soldiers, or the Chousai himself. It wasn't the battle that made her afraid. It was what came after. If they were successful in this battle—Kokumei was confident they would be, and Touke was willing to trust her—Touke would officially be put on the throne, with a coronation and everything. And she would rule Kyou.
The idea terrified her. She felt it was irresponsible for her to rule anything. She couldn't even rule herself. All her long life, until very recently, she had been a servant, bowing to the wishes of others. She barely had any idea how a government functioned, was sure she wouldn't learn fast enough. She had met a few people she trusted that she could probably put in high places, but she wasn't sure who would be suited to what. It would be impossible to know, how clueless as to the functioning of the various positions as she was. She would fail. She knew she would. Many of the generals, many of the soldiers, many of the functionaries she had met were sure she would fail as well. A small number—including Kokumei and Kyourin herself—were confident in her. She was sure those who believed in her would be proven wrong.
She would fail. Aku would fall into shitsudou. They would both die. And Kyou would continue in despair.
There was a blot on the horizon. As it neared, the single blot separated into a dozen blots. As it neared further, Touke started picking out individual buildings, some small and some large, and the stately bridges that crisscrossed the palace, connecting the differentiated islands. One island was the seishin, where their intelligence indicated the Chousai had recently made his home, and they were planning on landing directly there. But there was a problem: just as finer details, such as the tiles on the roofs, became visible, violent shapes of rising kijuu crossed their path.
At first, Touke thought they had failed. Then she quickly counted them. They outnumbered their opponents by a factor of ten. The Chousai had sent the bulk of his force out.
Touke's grip loosened slightly. They had this.
As the enemy cavalry neared, Touke reached behind her for her new bow. She had left it strung when they had started over Unkai. She took the weapon in her hand, holding it just so, the feel of it rapidly growing familiar. She whipped an arrow over her shoulder, nocked it. As the kijuu approached, she drew back on the string. They were wearing the colors of the Forbidden Army. She must be coming into her role more than she'd thought, for this annoyed her quite a bit. She picked a cavalryman, guessed at the distance, led his movement by just the right amount, and released. The arrow whizzed through the air, struck the man right in the neck. He tumbled off his kijuu and into the water. Similar attacks swept by her, decimating the enemy cavalry. Stage one success.
Now for the ground stage. Touke, Kokumei, and most of their warriors spiraled, clattered to a halt on a broad balcony over the water, very similar to the one she and Aku had arrived on at Teki those weeks ago. They leapt off their kijuu, put away their bows and drew their swords. Without a word, they charged off toward the nearest entrance.
They had all poured over maps of the palace weeks ago, so they knew their way through. They expected him to be in the rokuchou, a palace within a palace deep within the seishin, home of the monarch. They ran through a servant's entrance, taking them right into the plaza within the seishin surrounding the rokuchou. Touke had no eyes for the extravagant details around her. All she saw were the soldiers rushing toward her own group. Again, the defenders were outnumbered. Shouldn't be a problem.
The two groups clashed. Against the elite swordsmen of the loyalists, the traitors didn't stand a chance. Touke and Kokumei probably could have taken the two dozen by themselves. Soon the exquisite, shining tiles were dulled by blood. Not hesitating a moment, her soldiers, numbers slightly lessened, continued into the rokuchou.
They darted through hallways, fluidly moving one direction then the next, their route memorized. Soon they burst into a large dining room. A large group of guards met them at the door, but these were a simple matter to defeat as well. Their own numbers were again reduced somewhat, but not by a worrying amount. And, as Touke saw when the last man fell, seated at the tall chair at the end of the table, surrounded by attendants, sat Geimei, the Chousai himself.
Touke nodded to Kokumei. She slowly walked toward the table. When she reached it she jumped, her bloodied feet squishing onto the shining wooden surface. She walked across the Chousai's—she meant her—dining table, Kokumei at her side. When she got to the food itself, she and Kokumei took turns giving each dish a good kick to the side, splattering them onto the floor and, a few times, the walls. Soon they were standing over the Chousai's group. If Touke weren't holding her sword, she would have crossed her arms. "Well," she said simply. The attendants had backed off a little at their approach, Geimei frozen in his chair, so Touke waved the sword in his face. "I'm sure you've realized who I am."
"I will never bow to you," he hissed, his face livid. He was a little pale, though.
"Alright." Touke turned her back on him, took a few steps away. "Someone give him a sword." A soldier passed by her on his way to the Chousai, handed him his sword. "Get up here."
A pause. "No."
"If you're proud enough to refuse to bow to me, you're proud enough to fight me."
"You have a hinman, I'm sure. I'd lose."
Touke turned to give him a cold smile. "I'll kill you without my hinman. Koubochi."
From deep within her, a voice said, "Yes, my Queen." By the looks of the people around her, they heard it too.
"Do nothing. Don't help me."
"As you wish."
"There, happy? Fight me."
Touke saw a whisper of a smile on his face. Clearly, he thought he was going to win. Even if he did, Kokumei would probably kill him, but he clearly wasn't thinking that far ahead. Holding his sword in one hand, he climbed up onto the table. He brandished his weapon in a somewhat awkward grip. This was going to be pathetic. "I'll enjoy killing you," he said in a hiss.
"Before I cut off your head," Touke said, keeping her voice completely confident, "I just have to ask. Why resist the Mandate of Heaven?"
"There is no Heaven," he said immediately. "The Mandate is a joke."
Touke rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to argue with him. It would be pointless. "Alright then. Fight me."
He didn't need telling thrice. With a grunt of exertion, the Chousai darted at her. Even without Koubochi, he seemed so slow. She ducked to the side of his slash, and, taking a move from Kokumei, punched him in the side of the face with her sword-bearing hand. She felt his cheekbone crack. He came at her again. She ducked under the slice for her neck, poked him with her blade in the shoulder. This was pathetic, way too easy. To think weeks of war only led up to this. Kind of depressing. "Stop playing with me!" he bellowed.
"Fine," she said with a shrug. He charged at her again, an overhand, downward strike. She would use her favorite move, then. She raised her sword parallel to the ground, perpendicular to his strike. The blade took some of the momentum, but before all could disperse she loosened her grip, letting the enemy sword drift to her side. She darted toward him to the side of his blade, kneed him in the stomach, making him bend over double. Then she pivoted, raised her royal sword high, and brought it swiping down.
The Chousai's head hit the table a second before the rest of his body.
And the war was over.
Aku let out a long yawn.
She was in Jinjuu Manor, reclined on a divan in a corner of a small room. She actually rather liked the place. It seemed the Kyou Taiho before her had had similar taste in decoration. That is to say, very little of it. The place was made of simple wood, filled with simple furniture, the only touch of extravagance in the presence of golden silk curtains spread around the place.
It was her first day in the palace, and she had already decided it wasn't a bad place. Jinjuu was pretty nice, simple and elegant, the archipelago was pretty, Unkai gave off a nice, steady breeze that kept the sun from warming her skin too much, spreading the smell of various blossoms from the gardens. Of course, it wasn't perfect. She would have to stay out of the seishin and rokuchou for a while. She had been there once already. The smell of blood had been so strong that she had gone weak in the legs. Her servants—Touke had been off somewhere on business—had had to carry her back here, where she had been recovering. She still felt strangely tired, but it wasn't so bad anymore. They had told her they were going to make another pass on the place with water from Unkai, and replace some of the upholstery and carpeting, anything absorbent that might be holding blood. In a week or two it should be safe for her. She wouldn't be able to go to the meetings with the Rikkan either—that is, if there still were a Rikkan. They hadn't been replaced yet.
Mei, though, had officially been named Chousai just today. She was already working on helping Touke get a government together.
They had won. The war was over. The pretender had been killed. They had even managed to do it with killing a surprisingly small amount of people. They would be able to stop the decline of Kyou, start turning things around. With Touke at the head of the government, the important members recommended by Mei, they would probably do a fine job as well. Work had already started. Refugees were already starting to turn back to their homes.
So why didn't she feel better?
She had thought choosing the Queen would make her feel better. Getting her on the throne, building a government. Driving out the youma, improving things for her people. Sure, they had just started, and had seen no real results, but she had thought she would feel better. She didn't. She still felt anxious and miserable.
Which could have something to do with not having seen Touke since she had left for war over a month ago. Had she done something wrong? Did Touke not like her, not want to see her anymore? Touke not wanting to see her was a very bad sign. A monarch separating herself from the Kirin was an early step in separating herself from the Way. Would the lives they had spent getting here be wasted? All that death, all that pain, only for their Queen to fall from the Way so soon after being instated? Even before her coronation?
She felt terrible. But, even as she reflected, it was lessening. Not a whole lot, but a little.
The door slid open. Aku was about to tell her servants to leave her alone in her misery for a while, when the figure stepped through the curtains. Braided hair, deep, blue, beautiful eyes, her marvelousness obscured by official robes. Touke. Aku thought she might cry. "I heard about the blood sickness," Touke said immediately. She detached her sword from her belt, tossed it out the still-open door. The breeze made the curtains flutter around her, an aura of gold, the color symbolizing Aku herself, embracing her most precious person in the world. "I came as quickly as I could."
Touke did want to see her. She did like her. She was worried about her. She wasn't losing the Way, killing hadn't changed her that much. Aku couldn't help it. She started crying quietly, tears running down her face.
"Oh, no." Touke rushed to the side of the divan, kneeling on the floor before her. Immediately, one hand was gripping one of Aku's, the other in her mane. "Is something wrong? Are you in pain?"
That was just making it worse. "No," she managed, "just weak."
"Then what's wrong?"
The concern in Touke's voice warmed her heart so much she was afraid it would break. "Nothing's wrong." She slipped her hand out of Touke's, lifted both arms and put them around Touke's neck. It took more effort than it should have. Stupid blood. Touke took the hint immediately, leaned into her, wrapped her arms around her. At her touch, the giddy happiness Aku barely remembered spread through her. It only made her cry harder. "I just missed you so much."
"My little Kirin," Touke muttered, holding her and lightly stroking her mane. "I'm sorry I had to go. I thought about you every day I was gone." She was lying—Aku could feel it intuitively, but wasn't completely sure—but it was still nice to hear. "But I had to go, you know that."
"I know."
Touke let go, leaned back on her heels. She groped around at the table until she found a bowl of dried fruit. As she had so long ago, she started feeding Aku. It still felt a little backward to Aku, but she went along with it. "I'm sorry I got blood everywhere," she said after a while. That, at least, was the truth.
"It's okay," Aku whispered. It wasn't, but she wasn't going to again try to explain how she felt about violence to her Queen. She would never get it.
"And here I promised I would keep you away from blood," she said, lowly, as though speaking to herself.
"It's okay."
"No, it's really not."
Aku shrugged. "It couldn't be helped."
"Yeah, I guess."
A few long moments passed. Aku watched her Queen as she was fed, the giddiness invading her head simultaneously with melancholy. "I love you." She hadn't meant to say it. It had just slipped out. But it was true, though. She knew it was true. She had never felt about anyone else the way she felt about Touke. Maybe it was just a Queen/Kirin thing, she really didn't know. But it really didn't matter. She loved Touke.
The words seemed to make Touke slightly uncomfortable. For a moment Aku felt slightly hurt, but then Touke looked around her, obviously worried someone would hear. That would be why. When she was sure they were alone, Touke leaned in. She kissed Aku lightly on the lips, releasing a flood of warmth into Aku's body, into her soul. Then she leaned into her ear, whispered, "I love you."
Liar. Sweet, beautiful liar.
I know, super long break between chapters. Actually, last time I said I wouldn't even continue it, so you should be happy. :P
This is the end of the first section. I wrote the above in one sitting between classes. This story has four parts to it, all of the rest shorter than this one.
So, enjoy and shit.
