The Hand of Lady Hyuga
Chapter Eight
The paper lanterns swung delicately in the wind, a soft hush, hush that mimicked the bending stalks of the bamboo planted artistically along the walls and the lapping waters beneath the bridges. Strung high above the oriental garden, the lanterns cast an enchanting red glow over the wooden pagodas and highlighted the blush of the lotuses. Along with those silk lanterns trailing along the ground and hidden among the bushes, the lanterns provided just enough light in the night, just enough for the guests to make out the stone pathways that weaved around the pleasing boulders and fashioned floral displays: plums, peaches, chrysanthemums, azaleas and – one could never forget – peonies.
As an artist, he could appreciate the aesthetic value of the Imperial Gardens. He could admire the way the red lanterns washed the night in a film of pleasing pink, of how the red of the pagodas' shingles breathed new life into the air, and how the rouge of the lotuses seemed to reflect the lanterns almost perfectly side-by-side. He could approve of the green in the foliage, the green tinge in the waters, and the green silks of the passing ladies. He could endorse the blue in the inky night, the blue in the plum trees, and the blue in the velvet of the passing gentlemen.
He was an artist with an eye for colour.
He did not, however, understand – as one copy ninja would say – "the underneath the underneath." He did not understand that red was an auspicious colour… also a seductive colour that purposely played off the dusted cheeks and painted lips of the noble ladies. He did not understand that the pine meant strength, that the lotus meant purity, that the chrysanthemum meant a strong life, or that everything in the garden was supposed to bolster the luck and strength of the Imperial Clan. He did not understand that the blue of the gentlemen had been picked out to match with the red ladies – the thunder-dragon to the fire-phoenix. He only understood colours and aesthetics.
That did not mean, of course, that he hadn't read about these "the underneath the underneath" details. He had been informed of all those metaphors and symbolism, but he did not understand them. For him, he only understood a person, place or thing by their aesthetic value – the rest did not seem viable to him. For him, blue could be as auspicious as red, the water could mean strength, or that men were equal to (and maybe even surpass) women.
He did not understand matriarchy. He only understood that he must be polite to women and didn't have to be polite with men. He understood that he had to hold the door open for a woman, but could, if he so pleased, slam the door upon a man's nose and break it resoundingly. He understood that he must please the women, but not true with the men. He did not, however, understand why, only that he must…
Or he would fail his mission.
"Left or right?" The lady turned her head this way and that, the gold in her chandelier earrings flashing in the lantern-light. It gave off a pleasing effect, he noted. "I think," the lady continued with a smile, "my left? People tell me that I look best from my left side."
He moved his lips upwards according to the books he'd read. It was called a "smile" and, just as he expected, the woman calmed significantly. "Your left side is the most pleasing," he told her truthfully. He had found that he was incapable of lying.
"Oh!" The lady blushed and nodded. "Thank you."
"Please stay still," he said, dabbing his brush in the red for the rouge on her cheeks.
She held perfectly still, almost statuesque, as he painted her onto the rice paper. He captured the light in her eyes perfectly, the curve of her cheek perfectly, and the suppleness in her lips perfectly. For her, he may seem focused and, indeed, the blush on her cheeks deepened for she believed him to be almost intimate in the way his eyes traced down her neck and the way his brush caressed the paper like he would her skin.
She didn't know, nor should she, that he was not paying attention to her at all. He was a master artist; one glance and he would be able to duplicate what he saw onto paper. Instead, as his hands moved unconsciously to paint her eyes, cheeks and lips, he was in actuality taking the time to note the location of several very important people.
The Empress was situated in the golden pagoda on the highest point of the garden, which also happened to be the centre of the garden. The Emperor was weaving through the throng of nobles and making pleasantries. The rest of the Imperial Clan were scattered about at equal intervals, acting as buffers between whatever animosities that may exist between clans and seeing to their guests' needs. The Imperial Clan was well organized amongst themselves.
As his brush detailed the delicate nose of the lady he was painting, he noted that the Lady Senju, along with her heir (and niece by way of her deceased First Consort), was in the corner where a few seedy ladies and gentlemen were situated who, he could only suppose, were there to gamble. The Second Lord Consort Senju, Lord Jiraiya, was flirting among women much too young for him while the Third Lord Consort Senju, Lord Orochimaru, was observing him with disdain.
The Lady Uchiha, along with her Lord Consort, had staked her claim on the pagoda to the left of the Empress'. It was a blue-painted gazebo with red highlights, but the most stunning of the Uchiha entourage were the Uchiha themselves. There were noticeably more Uchiha men than women foraged around their Mistress, but even their men had a feminine beauty in them that made his fingers itch to sketch them, more so when they refused to move far from their Lady Uchiha. Solidarity was their highlight.
In contrast to the Uchiha were the Uzumaki, the orange and blue pagoda to the right of the Empress'. The Lady Uzumaki, with her ferocious red hair, and her Lord Consort, with his bright blond, made a stunning combination of sun and fire in the midst of the moon and waters of the party. Unlike the Uchiha, the Uzumaki were loud and dramatic; several having detached themselves from their pagoda to mingle with the rest of the Court. They were not as beautiful as the Uchiha, but there was some… spark in them that compelled him to find them relatively pleasing. Sociable was their strength.
As he started to mimic the intricacies of the lady's admirable earrings onto paper, he too began to list off the other noteworthy clans flitting through the garden: the Yamanaka near the Nara and the Akimichi, the Mitarashi with her innumerable harem… and the Inuzuka and the Aburame… waiting…
Waiting, just as he was, for them to appear.
For her to appear.
"Are you done, Sai?" Naruto, heir of the Uzumaki Clan, burst out like sunshine from behind him, startling the lady posing for him.
Fortunately Sai was not one to be surprised easily. "Hello, Dickless," he greeted easily, giving Naruto another one of his "smiles."
Naruto scowled. "Stop calling me that! And your smile! Stop that too!"
Sai did not change his smile, only turned back to finish his painting. He understood that he must be indebted to the Uzumaki for being his patrons, but he personally could care less. Having patrons or not, it did not deter him from his skills. But he did understand that having the Uzumaki for patrons allowed him to enter and move unhindered through the Imperial Court, and that was important. Now, after months at Court, he had secured the position of a master artist – the one above the others – and there was no reason for anyone to suspect anything strange of him…
"Doesn't Sakura look beautiful tonight?" Naruto gushed, ignoring the perfectly beautiful woman having her portrait painted in front of them.
Sai did not have to, but for appearance's sake he gave Lady Sakura a courtesy glance. She had, once again, cornered the Uchiha spare between two peony trees. From Sai's own observations, he understood that the Uchiha almost never strayed from one another, and for the spare to… wander off… It was, indeed, strange.
He was about to speak his mind on the very matter when he caught the Uchiha spare's gaze drift to the peonies. Sai frowned. There were many things he did not understand, but out of all the things that he did not, the one that could even remotely irritate him was the Court's sudden obsession with peonies. He, himself, was an admirer of the rose: singular, velvet and immortal. The peony was too flighty and bold for him, too immodest in all her petals full in inhibited display. No humility. No grace. Subtle beauty was what he thought was best.
Sai finished the painting without looking and then turned, knowing that he must face the lady first before returning to Naruto's subject. However, just as he faced her, she, in turn, turned her visage from him. He thought it was a rather curious action, but his thoughts were cut short when the woman's earrings glanced gold, a wink as she swerved in her seat to face the garden's entrance. For a moment he was stunned by their colour and detail. Intricate filigree and small rubies, wrapped in a delicious gold to the forms of delicate phoenixes and fire.
He fought the urge to touch them, to feel them, to be a part of them – to immortalize their exquisite craftsmanship onto canvas.
"Sai," Naruto whispered, a subtle gesture from the corner of his mouth made unsubtle by the very fact that he was Naruto. The jab from his elbow didn't help him either.
Sai blinked. It was not the whisper or the jab that had caught his attention, but rather the blatant hush in Naruto's breath; the Uzumaki's attempt to be quiet was quite startling and it was a side of the blond Sai had yet to encounter. It was such a twist in Naruto's character that Sai made the decisive decision to face his supposed "friend," brushing aside the earrings as irrelevant at the sudden turn of events.
Again, he paused. Again, there was something abruptly different about the Uzumaki. It was in his expression. It was in his eyes, a shine – a shimmer of blue that reflected his anticipation, his anxiousness, his almost delirious eagerness. It was a shine mirrored, quite suddenly, on the other guests as well, a keen expectation manifested thick and consuming as a hush falling over the garden, their awed gazes directed to the entrance of the garden, their hopes thick and palpable.
Instinctively, Sai turned and-
"The Hyuga!" the herald sounded.
-and saw them.
Dark hair of rippling, smooth tides. White eyes of the full, unhindered moon. Pale skin of rich, heady crème. They were white, and yet black. They were light, and yet darkness. They were the perfect portrayal of the highest chiaroscuro painting and sketch he had ever encountered, the epitome of shadow and light and darkness, and he held his breath at their contrast, at the high art of moving pictures. Even as they numbered few, he felt that it was enough, enough to steal their breaths and make them still, enough for them to swallow in awe and stifle their voices – enough to bring a shiver of anticipation running up his spine as they floated into the Imperial Gardens.
Perfect posture. Perfect grace. Perfect refinement, but it was the silk – the beautiful, beautiful silk – that made him want to touch them, hold them – immortalize their opposing nature onto canvas. Lengths upon lengths of the richest, softest, deepest silks he had ever laid eyes upon whispered sweet nothings as they trailed along the stone pathways, almost teasing in the way the folds fluttered in the wind, almost smiling in the way the threads caught the moonlight.
He felt faint. He felt absolutely weak in the face of their beauty.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" Naruto voiced softly, quietly… lost in the same way as he was.
Sai trembled as the world shifted and the equilibrium within him was disturbed. Naruto wasn't admiring the whole, but rather a part of the picture. They, the guests, were not admiring the whole, but rather a part of the picture. They did not see the Hyuga Clan… they saw only the girl.
The Lady Hyuga.
His eyes shifted, his body shifted, his hands shifted, and he nearly let the brush slip from his fingers… for the girl was not Hyuga. A momentary lapse in his admiration of the Hyuga's clothing, and he had somehow foregone the details, for two in the Hyuga entourage were not Hyuga. Not of the black hair or white eyes or pale complexion. One girl had hair of a darker brown with brown eyes. The other non-Hyuga was a man with a bowl haircut and thick eyebrows.
But the one Naruto had spoke of, his tone of reverence and respect and incredulity, was not the girl with the brown hair, but of the Hyuga that was not Hyuga. She may have the same black hair and the same white eyes and the same pale complexion that was so intrinsically Hyuga, but she did not inherit the sharp bone structure, the lithe elevated body, or the elegant cool aura that was so intrinsically Hyuga. She had a softer and almost babyish face, a shorter and plumper limbs, a clumsy warm feel to her. She was not Hyuga.
She did not belong in the picture.
His eyes followed her as she led the Hyuga before the Empress' pagoda, slowly falling to her knees to pay their respects to their leader. He noted, quite meticulously, the bold smile on her lips, the glaring glimmer in her eyes, and the insulting ease she utilized when she lifted herself from the ground after the Empress' welcome. While others saw a gentle smile on her lips, a soft shine in her eyes, and a natural grace when she lifted herself from the ground, he saw them as offensive and blaring and unsophisticated.
She did not act like a Hyuga. She did not look like a Hyuga. And despite her being named as a Hyuga, she did not carry her name as a Hyuga should. Because she was so different, so out of order, so dissimilar – she ruined the composition. She made the painting, the drawing, the sketch unbalanced and fragmented and unsightly.
While others saw something distinctly and wholly perfect, Sai saw something flawed. She was a pretentious peony among the modest roses. She was a distasteful pond in a perfectly designed forest landscape. She was a blemish on a portrait.
She did not belong.
Sai carefully put his brush away to avoid looking at her.
While others saw the Lady Hyuga as someone beautiful.
He "smiled" as he handed the portrait he had painted to the lady with the golden earrings.
Sai saw the Lady Hyuga as someone irrevocably and undeniably…
…ugly.
xxx
The Lady Hyuga and her clan took residence in the last of the remaining larger pagodas, the one formally held in the Hyuga name. She understood that if there were no Hyuga at Court, then the white and silver structure was to remain empty at such Imperial gatherings, admired for its intricate carvings and its almost ghostly grace… of its promise that one day the most sought-after Hyuga may appear. And in its beauty and promise, the building was kept pristine, clean and polished - a tradition kept intact for centuries' worth of loyalty, honour and strength to the Imperial Clan.
The Sarutobi were just as loyal to the Hyuga as the Hyuga were to the Sarutobi. Nothing denotes this more than the positioning of the Hyuga's pagoda in the Imperial Gardens. While the Uchiha's pagoda stood to the Sarutobi's left, and the Uzumaki's stood to the right, the Hyuga's stood behind the Sarutobi. Silent, humble, watchful, the Hyuga had always sustained the might and glory of the Sarutobi in the shadows, a silent phantom that protected their charge from afar.
The Uchiha may annihilate with their fire. The Uzumaki may burn with their sun.
But the Hyuga would soothe and drug with their moon.
"The Lady Tao," the Hyuga herald announced from the threshold of the Hyuga's open pagoda.
Hinata graced a modest smile for the Lady Tao, a woman of middle age and entering the silent and atmospheric Hyuga pagoda most proudly. The Lady Tao was visibly shaken by the very presence of the Hyuga, but she put on a brave front with her husband and children a step behind – straightened her spine for the sake of her son's, and her clan's, future.
"Lady Hyuga." The Lady Tao gave a humble bow, her clan following not a second too late.
Hinata, settled on a white chair with her hanfu gathered fluidly at her feet, answered with a respectful nod, "Lady Tao. The sun shines bright."
The Lady Tao rose from her bow with a smile, hopeful and confident. "The sun shines bright."
"I do hope that the evening is treating you well," Hinata commented kindly.
"Yes, very well," the Lady Tao responded patiently, and then turned to her clan members. "Please, Lady Hyuga, I wish for you to meet my family. This is my husband," he bowed, "my heiress," she bowed, "and…" the Lady Tao sounded optimistic and eager, "my son."
The keen spark in the Lady Tao's eyes was not lost on any of the Hyuga residing in the pagoda. Even with her stare straight, forward and true, Hinata caught the unimpressed look the Triple Threat shot at each other; Tenten going so far as to flicker a kunai in her hand, a gesture of her impatience with the similar and disgraceful audiences they had been receiving all night. The other Hyuga in their entourage, soldiers and servants, were equally disgusted by these Ladies and their sons – meagre, incompetent and-
"L-Lady Hyuga," the Lady Tao's son stammered in the Lady Hyuga's presence, his eyes lost in wistful wishes and dreams.
-and weak.
The Hyuga had no desire for weak sons-in-law.
"My son is twenty-two, Lady Hyuga," the Lady Tao said, the forerunning sign of a list of accomplishments to come. The Hyuga didn't need to wait long. "He is an accomplished player of the shamisen and a great painter. He is well-versed in swordplay and taijutsu, and will being taking the upcoming jounin exams in the autumn. Rumour has it," the Lady Tao attempted a jest, "that he is the likeliest to pass!"
Neji nearly sliced open his throat, a sentiment shared by many of the Hyuga entourage in the pagoda, and most certainly by those in the far corners of the kingdom if they were to hear such an empty boast. Fortunately, they were well-trained and disciplined, their revulsion and antipathy for the Tao Clan well hidden in their endless eyes and blank masks – despite the insult. For it was an insult, an insult to parade such an unsophisticated and untalented beast in front of their mistress to partake in.
Twenty-two, and still a chunin? Was the kingdom so misinformed that they did not know that their mistress, their beloved Lady Hyuga, had become a jonin at fifteen – a special jonin a year later? Were they so misinformed that the Hyuga were looking for a chunin son-in-law? How preposterous! How ridiculous! How insulting!
And a shamisen player? The Hyuga had themselves enough for an orchestra to play for the mistress if she so wished it! And a painter? The Hyuga would die in shame if they were not accomplished in the brushes and paints themselves! There was absolutely nothing the Lady Tao's son could offer their mistress, and the Lady Tao insulted them if she thought her son could even compare!
Shit!
Multiple eyes swerved to the Hyuga herald standing by the threshold. Evidently, he had voiced the Hyuga sentiment aloud without meaning to, but the whole charade was rather trying and difficult – and frustrating. For the last two hours, greedy Clan Heads and social climbers had requested audiences with the Lady Hyuga, their marriageable sons in tow, all misty-eyed and lovesick at the sight of the Lady Hyuga – a glimpse was all men needed to fall onto their knees and lose their senses, much to the pride of the Hyuga. But none of them were worthy or skilled or handsome enough for the mistress, and if they were at any place but in the Imperial Gardens, perhaps somewhere private like a dead end street or empty alleyway, they would have put these idiotic boys out of their misery… a single chakra point was all they needed…
"Shitake mushrooms, milady," the herald recovered flawlessly, as was expected of a Hyuga.
As if on cue, one of the Imperial maids appeared with a plate of well-cooked shitake mushrooms.
Tenten almost snorted in laughter with Lee taking pity on the herald. Neji, on the other hand, sent a fierce glare at the herald. It was a mistake none would repeat again.
Hinata was just about to kindly offer the mushrooms to the Lady Tao (knowing that the herald did not actually mean to say "shitake mushrooms") when another Imperial maid tapped lightly on the pagoda's frame. The occupants of the pagoda turned to the maid, who fell elegantly onto her knees under the eyes of the Lady Hyuga, humbled and overwhelmed by the Hyuga.
"Milady," the maid sounded with reverence, "my mistress, the Lady Yuhi, the promised hand of the Imperial Prince Asuma, has requested for your company near the pond."
Hinata almost jumped up from her seat and danced around the pagoda. Finally. Finally! An escape route – a way out of all these countless meetings with marriageable (and undesirable) boys. She could have sounded in joy, but restrained herself, content with the sudden change of plans. Only her sensei could come up with such a devious and well-placed strategy.
"Milady," Neji addressed with a courtesy bow at the waist. "We should not keep the Lady Yuhi waiting."
"Yes, of course," Hinata sounded gently, and then turned to the Lady Tao. "Forgive me, Lady Tao. Lady Yuhi is my sensei and holds the Empress' high regard. I mustn't keep her waiting."
Taken aback, the Lady Tao didn't know how to respond. Of course, she was hoping to have her son in the Lady Hyuga's bed by the end of the night, but she could not gainsay the Lady Yuhi's request. The Lady Yuhi, after all, was to be a princess consort in a month, and the Lady Tao would never dare to insult the red-eyed beauty so early in the game.
"Of course," the Lady Tao conceded, her plans falling away right before her very eyes. "Good evening, Lady Hyuga."
Hinata nodded. "Good evening, Lady Tao."
The Hyuga all breathed a sigh of relief with the Tao Clan was firmly gone and away from their pagoda. The herald, more than happy to, informed the line of visitors outside that the Lady Hyuga was to depart from her pagoda and that she could not possibly see anymore guests that night. They had the pleasure, of course, to reschedule for sometime later this week. Many, of course, were disappointed (many men had their dreams crushed that evening), but were delicate enough to leave when informed to.
This was a social gathering in the Imperial Gardens; the Lady Hyuga was holding audience in her town house.
"Wow," Tenten hushed. "They all sorta suck, don't they?"
The Hyuga soldiers and servants dared not agree, knowing that it was not their place.
Hinata sighed and stood from her seat, the maids coming forward to fix her hanfu. "It has been rather… trying to say the least."
Lee shared a sympathetic smile with his mistress and Neji glared – openly.
"They are incompetent, unskilled," her cousin listed without restraint or compassions, "weak, pitiful and badly dressed."
At the last characteristic, several of the Hyuga maids nodded. The Hyuga had a certain fondness for good clothing and suitable appearances. It was the reason why the hanfu their mistress was dressed in that night cost more than the Imperial Gardens! Hinata could only shake her head at the ridiculousness of it all, her silver hairpins chiming like soft and twinkling bells.
It was most fortunate that they had placed a silencing seal over their pagoda, or the whole Imperial Court would have heard their complaints – their lips concealed under translucent silk curtains to dissuade lip reading.
"Let us not be dispirited," their Lady Hyuga cheered softly. "Let us see to our old friends and meet more delightful company. The Lady Yuhi calls, and I am to answer. Let us smile now."
It was an impossible request for the Hyuga. Smiling, that was, but the whole Hyuga entourage seemed to calm now that their mistress was not to be trapped in their shiny and silvery pagoda. Airy and light, the Lady Hyuga led them forward and down the few steps from their pagoda and onto the beautifully tiled garden pathways; the lantern lights shining pink in her eyes and the flowers accompanying her robes almost perfectly.
The Imperial Gardens seemed to hold its breath upon seeing the Lady Hyuga descend from her pagoda, a butterfly breaking free of her cocoon…
A peony coming into bloom.
It was time to entertain the Court.
xxx
This took much longer to write, I admit, but I had trouble portraying Sai. At first I wanted him to admire Hinata and love her on the spot, like everyone else, but then that would make everything much too easy.
So I made him hate her.
MWHAHAHAHA!
(Cough.)
Anywho, I just hope I didn't just write myself into a circle cause I don't know how he's gonna fall in love with her. It's going to be so confusing with all these guys. Good news though, Sai is the last in the harem. I hope you aren't disappointed!
the point