Chapter 43 | The Death of Kings VIII
Tonight, she thought with dread, tonight I will marry Mikazuki Gouki. There was nothing she could do about the matter but endure it. She would have to because she had not heard word about Madara's condition and the enemy shinobi were saying that the antidote Gouki had given to that Uzumaki girl had been a fake. She worried that she had not considered that beforehand knowing that it would not be unlike Ayuka to do something so underhanded.
She paced the spacious room—furnished wood beneath her bare feet. There was a low bed to her far left, two windows to her right, a set of drawers sat behind her flanked by a pair of bamboo plants, and a closet which held extra bedding and coverlets (for the coming winds, a handmaid had told her). In the high space beneath the shelves of the closet was a large, leather chest where her few belongings had been arranged and the new clothing had been added.
The sliding door closest to the windows led into a small room, a measure of four and a half tatami, with a small alcove where an altar was nestled and atop the black surface, sat a golden statue with an incense burner sitting in front of it. Offerings to the golden statue were made in blood, but rarely within the castle's walls. Kuronuma Nishiki had a temple built for his wife in the tower where he had had erected the daunting solid gold statues she worshipped, the area had been restricted to all.
The rice-paper doors she chose to pace in front of led to a roomy sitting area and from its doors one had access to the rest of the building.
Another door near the bed that led to a short staircase connected to the bath. She walked down the steps, learning her surroundings, and found the bath area small. She discovered a door that led into the ground level of the structure. The building where she resided made up the western wing of the castle, which proved to be much larger than Enki's in the Sun Country. The only shinobi allowed within the castle walls were on patrol, keeping invaders out and keeping prisoners in.
The castle was situated in a part of the Earth Country that had faced a bit of strife throughout the years. Nishiki and the lord of the neighboring territory were at constant war. When she had been transported from the Mikazuki encampment near the border, surrounded by Mikazuki and a pair of Uchiha that did not dare look in her direction, they had been attacked by one of the Earth Country's shinobi clans in an attempt to capture her. Word of her presence had spread, talk of the Kuronuma's Shugosha marrying the lord's son reached all neighboring territories and treaties had been set between many of them as they came to the conclusion that a joint attack would produce better results. However, none of the shinobi that attacked her then had anticipated the presence of Mikazuki Gouki. He had made quick work of them all, leaving the road littered in bodies. One of Nishiki's advisors had asked him to spare one so that he may send word to his employer that the Shugosha would not be taken, but Gouki had laughed and killed them all.
"You will leave the bodies here," Gouki had told his men. "They will be example enough."
There were more servants in the castle grounds than shinobi and noblemen put together, but that did not make her feel safe. Both Ayuka and Nishiki were within the castle walls. Neither one of the two ventured to the west wing of the castle as their apartments were located in the south wing, which sat closer to the tower. Gouki was temporarily staying in modest accommodations in the north wing, but Ayuka, when she had appeared to make her visit, assured her that her room would be theirs to share in marriage. After that conversation, Mio had trouble keeping still inside her spacious rooms, thinking and dreading the day of the ceremony.
Mio startled at the knocking, the sound distracted her from her dark thoughts. She went and slid the doors apart, surprised to see four handmaids, all kneeling before her in a sign of respect. The oldest woman of the four glanced up at her utterly confused by her behavior, but stood. The other three exchanged glances and followed her lead. They were uniformed in a violet kimono without a pattern and a dark obi combined with an apron that fell to the same length of their skirts. The four wore their hair tied in a tight bun.
She was informed they were there to dress her. She moved aside and allowed them to cross the threshold. Each handmaid walked in a different direction, gathering items from within the drawers. One brought in a pair of long boxes she set atop the bed, another came with a square box. The older woman excused herself a moment and returned accompanied by two men carrying a wooden tub between them with several other women bringing in buckets of water to fill it. The ofuro tub was set inside the spacious room and filled almost completely, the steam rose in long, delicate tendrils from the surface.
Everyone with the exception of the first four handmaids remained and helped her undress. She stepped inside the tub and sank down into a seat with her legs drawn up to her chest. The water was fragrant from the pomegranate, raspberry, and vanilla scented oils added in with the soap that bubbled around her naked body.
One woman poured water over her head and lathered soap into her hair while another took the suds floating over the water on a washcloth, which she used to clean the length of her arms and back.
Mio felt herself dwindling in the water, her body small and still. The thoughts running through her head were aplenty. She thought of Madara in her arms, his blood soaked into her skin, of Izuna's pained expression at the revelation of their relationship, yet his insistence to follow her for Madara's sake and her safety made her heart clench—he loved them. She knew how he felt, it was a natural knowledge, but she saw it in that moment, so thoroughly expressed. She thought of the Kuronuma in the Ito Village and those in the Iron Country preparing for a fight, of Sako and Minako who stood before her perfectly healthy. She thought of everyone in the Fire Country, even Taiga. She worried for Tobirama and the Uzumaki girl.
As a bucket of hot water was poured over her head, the shoji slid apart and Ayuka entered. The woman was dressed in deep green robes, her red hair brushed out into neatly arranged waves that fell down her lower back. She gestured for the women to leave the room and the four did with their heads bowed. The last to exit slid the door shut.
Ayuka picked up her skirts, walking around the ofuro tub and coming to a stop before her. "I arranged for a physician to come see you."
"Do I seem ill?" asked Mio.
"I understand what you had with Uchiha Madara was serious," said Ayuka. "In a perfect universe, he would be ideal, but you are troublesome enough alone. I would not have the patience to deal with a pigheaded child with a god complex."
"But you want the child," she said. "What difference does it made who his father is?"
"I do not know," Ayuka admitted. "That is the thing about this child of yours. He exists in your pathways. All of your pathways. He is never different—"
"I do not like to speak of the future," Mio interrupted.
"The future is now, Mio," the priestess said. "If you are not with child now, you will be soon."
Mio blinked. "Is that the reason for the physician?" she asked. "You think I am with child?"
"Are you?"
There was a strange anxiety about Ayuka when she asked her. The opportunity was perfect.
Mio grasped her knees, nails digging into her skin, and for a moment dropped her eyes to the surface of the water. "I-I don't know," she said, her voice a tremulous whisper. "I have never—I don't—" She looked up at the priestess, lips parted as she forced words out. "But…would that be impossible? I would…I would have to be married."
Ayuka looked aggrieved, sighing. She composed herself. "The physician will come." She picked up a towel and handed it to her. "Come out of the water."
Mio did as she asked, standing she wrapped a large towel around her body and stepped out.
"You did not marry him, did you?" Ayuka demanded.
She merely stared up at Ayuka with a frightened look that sent the priestess into more nervous pacing until the physician appeared. The wizened woman hobbled into the room and ordered Mio to lay on her back without preamble.
Mio nervously approached the edge of the low bed and seated herself, holding the towel tightly at her chest. The woman introduced herself as Yamada before shooting an irritable glance at Ayuka's nervous pacing.
"You should step out, Ayuka-san," Yamada told her. "I do not need for your nervous energy to frighten this girl any further."
Ayuka surprisingly excused herself, leaving Mio and the physician alone.
Yamada washed her hands thoroughly, asking Mio to lie back. The woman performed a quick and uncomfortable examination that resulted in the physician's skeptical look followed by its evolution into one of annoyance.
"You are wasting my time, girl," said the physician, wiping her hands clean after washing them. "You have never lain with a man, yet you are presumed to be with child. You are driving that woman insane." As she said this, she looked towards the entrance. "She was convinced the possibility existed."
"I never said I was," Mio said innocently. "She never asked."
"Then why are you wasting my time?"
"I did not call you here."
Angered, the wizened woman stormed out of the room where Ayuka awaited, dreading confirmation, to receive Yamada's fury. Mio tugged on a robe and cinched it at the waist by a sash as the old woman shouted at the priestess for having rushed her to the castle to waste her time. Yamada insulted Ayuka in every possible form and proceeded to leave her, stunned, to step back into Mio's bedroom, her own anger incited.
"I am humiliated!" the priestess snapped. "You did this on purpose!"
"I am not the one that called the physician," Mio replied. "You are the one that made the assumption that doing so was necessary."
Ayuka took her by the chin, her fingers pressing hard. "Your little mind games will not work on me," she spat. "I will make sure you are miserable here."
"Your efforts would make no difference, I am miserable wherever you are," Mio retorted.
The priestess laughed darkly. "I wanted to wait," she began. "I wanted to wait until after the ceremony to tell you this, to relish in your distress, but if you want to continue being miserable, I will not stop you." She was unable to contain her delight. "The antidote you traded yourself for was a fake. I asked Gouki to give it to you because I wanted Uchiha Madara dead. I knew it would hurt you. I wanted you to know your efforts were for nothing."
Mio's heart skipped a beat. She knew the possibility existed.
"Uchiha Madara is on his deathbed as you stand here to be wed to my son," she continued gleefully. "You will never see him again."
The Time Sphere could not prolong his life forever if he was already dying, it could keep him well for a time enough for an antidote to reach him—that had been the plan. Her chest throbbed painfully and her eyes threatened to shed the tears that had gathered there. She bit the inside of her mouth to force back the emotion and stared, fortified, at Ayuka attempting to reject the reality of her words.
"The antidote was not a fake."
Mio and Ayuka turned in the direction of the entrance where Mikazuki Gouki stood. The towering man stepped forward, gesturing at his mother to step away from her. "I remember telling you that I do not want her bruised."
"What did you just say?" Ayuka demanded, facing him fully. The sight of them was fascinating like watching two equally venomous vipers preparing to attack one another.
"I gave the right antidote to the Uzumaki."
"Why would you do such a thing?"
Mio sank into a seat at the edge of the bed, heart thundering in her chest, and watched the scene unfold, the revelation sinking in. She did not know whose word she should trust. She did not think she could trust either one of them, but the hope awakened in her by the idea that it might not have been a fake.
Gouki shrugged, unfazed. "Do I need a reason?"
"That boy is problematic!"
"He is not of our concern." Gouki shot Mio a quick glance. "We have who we wanted. Why are we paying any mind to another?"
"This was not planned!"
Ayuka stormed out, Gouki watched her until she turned the sharp corner and disappeared. He returned his eyes—bright green like in her nightmares—to her at the sound of her shifting over the bed.
"Is it true?" she whispered. "Was the antidote real?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Why not?" he replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Gouki left the room.
She alone could think of many reasons as to why it made better sense for the antidote to be a fake. He could tell her none.
The handmaids returned in time to see her prepared for the ceremony.
Mio reminded herself to breathe, as her mother had that terrible night. She did nothing else but stand atop polished floors and allowed the women to work.
Each handmaid took on a different task. The oldest woman clothed her in silk—expensive silk that slid across her limbs like liquid fabric—of various pale hues. She worked with deft fingers, folding the robe this way and that over her slim, shivering form and tied the sash around her waist in the traditional knot. She smoothed out the wrinkles, lined the skirts. She took great care to create perfection in the dress she draped over her body.
Another ran a comb through her hair, smoothing it out into shallow waves she gathered to braid down the length of her back. She picked up her plaited hair and folded it underneath the base of the braid, tying it in place with a white ribbon. She lined several fine-toothed combs decorated in flowers and other decorative kanzashi made of silver and encrusted with pearls along the pale band. The same woman attempted to replace her earrings with a pair of pearls, but Mio moved away quickly, refusing them.
The third woman powdered her face and colored her lips. She ran the brush across her lips careful to outline them. She lined her eyes in black, sharpening their shape. Once finished, she held a mirror for Mio to stare at her reflection. Admittedly, the sight had taken her by surprise because she never owned a mirror and her interests in looking at herself were near nonexistent, but once her initial reaction settled, she took the mirror and stared. She did not recognize herself reflected in the glass and it bothered her, but she returned the mirror to the handmaid that kindly offered it to her with a small smile.
The fourth handmaid prepared the room. She had ordered for the ofuro tub to be taken out and had other servants cleaning the floor, asking them to stay behind so that they could polish the floors once the room was empty. The handmaid replaced the bedding, smoothed its surface until all the wrinkles went away, and rummaged through the leather trunk in the closet to procure a change of clothes she set atop the neat coverlet.
Mio unconsciously watched this woman's every movement, reminding herself to breathe, wishing she would stop laying out her marriage bed. The drumming in her chest felt exaggerated. It was a brewing storm of restlessness and dread.
Within the next few hours, she would marry the man responsible for the death of her parents. She would be expected to act the role, share his bed, and bear him a son. She would die in this marriage. She did not need to come to any realization. She was simply aware that she would be dead. She would not survive long as Mikazuki Gouki's wife. She did not possess the strength it required. She longed for escape, but she would not attempt at it until Tobirama and his Uzumaki companion were released. She prayed for patience and inner strength. She wished her nightmares were willed away. She desired anything but this day.
Her mind was full of thoughts—dizzying, anxiety-fueled thoughts.
The shoji slid open and a man stepped forward, his presence alone made the servants scamper into a line behind her where they bowed deeply. He stared at her with curious, rose-colored eyes. She sensed power in him, a bottomless pit overflowing with static energy that filled the room and wrapped around her like a boa constrictor about to asphyxiate its victim.
Kuronuma Nishiki made a beeline to her. He stood at a daunting height with a powerful body as expected of any member of the clan. He had a shaven head, his eyebrows and eyelashes were white. The angles of his face gave him a severe look that lacked in kindness. He bore little resemblance to her grandfather, though he did possess the same youthfulness leaving her to wonder how he had accomplished remaining young without his sphere.
She swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching her hands at her side. The strongest Kuronuma to have ever lived, second only to Kiyohime, was standing in front of her. He stared at her face with evident disapproval, a hint that she was not what he expected to see, but his eyes did not linger long. They fell to the Time Sphere, the artifact that would have been his had her grandfather not attempted against his life.
"You resemble her," Kuronuma Nishiki commented, eyes flickering back to her.
Her. She heard that before. She resembled her grandmother, Chiho. It had been one of the reasons why Enki found her bearable. However, hearing those words coming from his mouth were strange. Shin and Chiho did not meet until after Nishiki had been killed, or rather presumed dead. He should not have known her grandmother. Perhaps from afar, from watching his brother as he schemed against him.
Nishiki grinned. "I forgot to introduce myself," he began, "I am—"
"I know who you are," she answered quickly, though she did not say his name. He went by an alias here, the handmaids would wonder if they heard her call him Kuronuma Nishiki.
A few handmaids gasped at her back, though they were shushed by the older woman immediately.
"Are you done with her?" he asked the women behind her.
"Yes, Takezou-sama, she is done," the older woman answered courteously.
"Thank you," he said, and then he extended a hand for her to take. "Come. I will escort you."
Mio reached for it, feeling his fingers curl underneath her own and grasp them. He gave her a gentle pull forward as he turned and led them out of her accommodations to the hallways. There he let go of her hand, allowing her simply to walk beside him.
"How is my brother?" asked Nishiki.
"I would not know," said Mio, "I have not seen him."
"I may not be Shugosha, but I am guardian still—"
"Only if you find your sphere."
She saw him grin in her peripheral vision. "Your guardian has yet to weaken me," he said, "but I am not angry that you gave my sphere to another. You did your duty and I was dead."
"My grandfather threw your body into the black rivers—"
"Have you asked him why?" asked Nishiki.
"He said you were going to do dangerous things with the artifacts and that he could not allow it to happen."
"Ayuka told me he would attempt against my life that day," he told her. "I only felt I knew my brother better."
The two walked downstairs and through a pair of opened doors leading into a courtyard filled with barren wisteria trees where a handful of people were gathered, among them, Ayuka and Gouki. They stopped for a moment on the verandah and looked at one another.
"You should not be marrying my son," Nishiki said. "You should be marrying another. Not my son."
"I don't want to marry your son," Mio answered. "I can barely look at him."
"Yes, this is atrocious."
"If you understand, why don't you stop it—this marriage?"
She forced down what little hope blossomed when he called it atrocious because she could not believe anything that was being said by these people. Her grandfather did not warn her of Kuronuma Nishiki, only told her he was dangerous, and that alone was enough for her not to trust him or his words. She steeled herself, expecting nothing of this day but a marriage she did not want.
"Ayuka is happy," he answered, looking at his beautiful wife. "She is happy that the plan is working and that you are here. I will not stand between what makes her happy." He waved her onward. "So, go."
Mio was married under the gnarled branches of a wisteria tree to the man that haunted her nightmares for the better part of nine years. She survived the moment and swore she could survive all that followed, knowing it would be difficult to escape.
The festivities to follow were filled with contempt from a handful of Mikazuki shinobi Hiryuu had managed to turn against her with everything he had said when she had arrived at the encampment. They had loved Gouki's first wife, Motou Kikumi, and were under the impression that she was killed upon Mio's request. They had fabricated many lies to paint her as the enemy. She knew a few servants felt the same way about her, but they could only express such feelings amongst themselves. The shinobi did not care. She didn't either.
Hiryuu's presence was the only thing that bothered her. The smugness on his wrinkled, old face whenever he looked in her direction, as if he were gloating a victory she was not aware of.
Mio excused herself from the celebrations early on. She was lying on the floor with the fake sphere pressed against her face when Gouki noisily entered the room. She missed her sphere, its cool surface and the way it soothed her when she pressed it to her face. She did not turn in his direction, only listened to the sounds he made as he removed his clothes.
She went to him wordlessly, already dressed in the silk the handmaid left behind atop the bed. He sat at the edge of the bed, his body long and muscular, and she should have been calm. She prepared for the moment she would face him, strengthening herself with her own resolve, but it was an unconscious reaction. She saw him and she was paralyzed. She saw him and she saw herself back in the cottage, her mother growing colder atop her body and her father all around her. Her body shook.
Gouki was aware. It amused him.
"The faster you are with child, the faster we can end this," he told her, reaching for a hand she moved further away from him. "I do not care if you imagine another. Your lover. Whoever you wish. I do not care."
"I would not shame him that way," she said, finally allowing his hand to wrap around her wrist.
He dragged her closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You are afraid of me still?"
She answered nothing. He did not seem to care. He dropped her on the bed, her back pressed fully on the mattress. She found her stomach twisting in revulsion and herself unable to stare at him directly, her eyes fluttering in every other direction except to his face.
Mio squeezed her eyes tightly and when he pushed apart her legs, she wanted to scream. She did not cry, though her situation did threaten to wring out her tears, and she did not struggle.
There was no point.
She endured it as was expected of her. Her mind was a blank, as empty and vast as the snowfields in Kurata, and her body numb. She tried to form a thought powerful enough to take her from the suffocating weight bearing down upon her or the pain between her thighs. Nothing worked.
He left when it was over and she could appreciate that. She covered her shame, dragging the robe over her shoulder and tightly around her body feeling cold and defeated. She turned over and curled into herself, the first and last shuddering breath to escape her echoing in the dark, empty room where it lingered…and died.