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Head to The Wilting Blossoms and offer the ferryman our talisman

Keep The Smiling Monk happy so he can take you to the mountain men

Do not scare the Tengu, and be sure to take the silver feather

Let it guide you to the east, to the islands of The Mentor!
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CHAPTER ONE


Jin groaned softly as the scent of burnt rice hit her nose. Almost a month after the old man had brough them all to Hanowa and she still couldn’t get the cooking right. Oh well; the Prince (now named Han) was too polite to complain, and Ishawari (called Takumi) already needled her at least once a week about it. Someday she would learn to cook well, but today was not that day. Tomorrow wasn’t looking good either.

Hanowa was a small, non-descript village about an hour’s walk to the port. It was full of hardworking people, mostly fishers and market workers at the port. The cover story for the three of them was that young Han had lost his parents recently, and Jin (who’d taken the name Akemi) were his childless aunt and uncle. They had all recently moved here from a faraway village to start over. The best cover stories were made with some truth and some fiction in equal measure. The Prince was an orphan now, and Jin and Ishawari were close enough to him to play parental roles.

“Dinner’s ready!” She called out, loud enough to breach the walls of the small house they were in. She knew the Prince was outside playing. Ever since they came here, he’d worked hard at being a ‘normal’ boy. No longer did the neighboring children scoff at him for using big words or holding himself in a royal manner. Just the other day he’d come home splattered with mud from head to toe. Jin had been surprised and pleased to see him that way. Just a regular 8 year old.

Just a few more days living here and they’d have to be on their way to the Wilting Blossoms. The old man had been very clear about the timeframe, as they could possibly miss the ferryman if they were not there in time. Soon they would have to pack up and leave everything behind. Jin had to admit, she was going to miss it. It gave her a taste of another life that she would never have.

“I promise I didn’t burn everything this time!”

***


Ishawari surveyed Hanowa village from his outcropped perch. He positioned himself as still as a warrior statue, one that paid tribute to a wild and unkempt-looking man. Gone were his clean shaven face and slicked back royal top-knot; both replaced by unruly, shoulder length hair and beard. His royal garbs were stripped apart and sold to local merchants, leaving him with tattered grey breeches, a faded crimson vest, and leather sandals, all of which belonged to Daigo. They were indebted to him and all that he asked in return was to keep the boy safe.

The bodyguard reflects on the old man's only favor as the sun dips into the horizon. Its orange hue paints the village as though it were ablaze, and Ishawari hoped that wasn’t a foreshadowing of things to come. The Hanowa villagers were a kind and simple lot, who didn’t pry into their affairs, especially the old man’s. Diligent Daigo is what they called him, as he was always helping around the village. Ishawari and Jin made sure to carry on that tradition in his absence, and in return, the residents welcomed them as their own, especially the prince.

Abstaining from royal courtesies, especially with regard to Prince Hotaru, who now goes by Han, took some getting used to. Jin scolded Ishawari several times now for being so overprotective of the boy, and even went as far as restraining him from berating another child, who pushed Han to the ground while play fighting. Fortunately, no one else was around to witness the scene, and the spear has since been locked away.

“Uncle Takumi-san!” Han called out.

Yes, even his newly given name took some getting used to. He turned around when the name was shouted a second time, and saw the bald prince in his green robe, the most simplest attire he's ever worn.

“Dinner is ready!” He yelled, cupping his mouth with both hands, a trick he learned from one of the village kids. Ishawari quickly jumped down from his perch and ran towards the house. The boy took this was a racing challenge, one he gladly accepted. Han quickly kicked his little feet into a mad dash, giggling all the way back into the doorway.

"I win!" Han jumped triumphantly, "Huh?"

Ishawari sped right past him, leaving his normal reluctance for Jin’s cooking at the door; a day spent as a hardworking farm hand left him spent, and he was starving.

***

“I promise I didn’t burn everything this time!”


It wouldn’t have mattered to Ishawari if it were charred to a crisp. He was so hungry that when he bowed as a gesture of appreciation, his stomach made a loud and angry sound, frightening Han so much that he nearly jumped out of his sandals. After a hastened prayer was made to the Diamond-Eyed Dragon, The Two-Faced Monkey, and all of the Gods and Goddesses in between, they sat around the small table like any family would.

After several big bites, Han took a sip of his water, then cleared his throat.

“Takumi-san? Akemi-san?” His big brown eyes stared at both adults. He took a moment to choose his words, then asked:

“Where were you born? Was it like Hanowa?"

Surprised, Ishawari glanced at Jin, then proceeded to stuff his face with rice, his passive way of telling her: ‘you first.’ Seeing how Ishawari was too focused on his meal to talk, Han turned to Jin.

“Pleassseee Akemi-san!” He smiled, the same innocent smile he’s trained to perfection, one that only the heartless could resist. "Tell me what little Akemi-san was like!"

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Even though she knew they were both right out side, it was a relief to see both Ishawari and Prince Hotaru safe and sound walking in the door. Even as she served out three bowls of fish and slightly charred rice, Jin could feel her heartbeat returning to it’s normal speed. There was some part of her that never relaxed. Even if she had put away her weapons, lost her royal gear to some merchants who could keep a secret, and even grown out her hair into a fine fluff of spiraling curls. Even with all this peace around her, every night she would train her body with exercises, trying to prepare for the day when trouble found them again.

Jin was mid-bite when Prince Hotaru asked his curious question. She chewed as long as possible, trying to look thoughtful about it. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to discuss it, but who could resist that adorable face?

“Very well.” She shot Ishawari a Look over Hotaru’s head, one that said ‘you owe me big’.

Setting down her bowl and chopsticks, Jin began. “My childhood home was… by the coast, by the waters that lead out of Majima. It’s called Susuka City. It was much larger than this, however. It was always so full of people, coming and going, giant boats, all sorts of foods and strange animals from overseas...” She grinned a bit at the memories.

“My parents met there. My mother was a local, and my father came from across the sea from a country called Orisha. If I remember right, he was just a traveler, looking to find adventure. Well, he met my mother, and that may have been just the adventure he was looking for. They fell in love and had me!” Her eyes went soft. “My mother was the most beautiful woman in the whole city. Smart, too. She worked as a healer for all the townspeople. Our home was always smelling of boiled plants and pungent concoctions.”

That was why Jin had chosen the work she had in Hanowa. She was working with the town’s healer, an old woman, Kana, who mostly sent Jin out to forage most of the day. She didn’t mind – it was good, busy work, and the plants reminded her of her mother. At the end of the day she walked Kana home, just the two of them against the sunset. She always had a story to tell, or some earful of gossip. Jin used the woman as a resource, feeling that if suspicious strangers showed up in Hanowa, she’d be among the first to know.

“She taught me some of her work, as well. I admit I have forgotten bits and pieces, but I know what plants are good to eat, which are poisonous, and which make good medicine. If we’re ever in need.” Jin twisted at her curls with a pinky, half smiling, lost in reminiscence.

“My father became a part of the city’s militia. He had a beautiful sword and was so strong, he could lift me with one arm. I wanted to learn the sword from him, but my mother didn’t think that was a good idea. I was always a little wild child, I think. Not very girlish. At any time, my parents would find me outside digging for mushrooms, or fishing, or down at the docks annoying my neighbors with curious questions. There was school at some point, and I didn’t quite enjoy that. I think sitting down too much did not agree with little me.”

Her eyes clouded over, as unbidden memories came wafting to the surface. Susuka, being by the sea, was always prone to heavy rainfall and thunderstorms. One night, a particularly harsh lightning storm hung over the area. Some of the buildings were struck, causing a fire to break out and spread rapidly despite the rain. Her father, as a member of the militia, went to help get people out of the burning buildings. Unfortunately, he never made it back home from that terrible night. One the buildings had collapsed, trapping him and several others. Her mother’s grief was absolute, and she never recovered from the loss. She too, was gone after a year, to sickness.

None of this she said out loud, as it wasn’t a story for children, but she was quiet for several seconds. Even now she had a deep dislike of thunderstorms, something that Ishawari had probably figured out but was too polite to say so.

“Ahem.” Jin cleared her throat of a sudden lump. “When I was older, I went into the royal military. There were fewer women, then, and no one who looked like me. I was kind of on the outskirts – but to those people I said f-” She blinked at the 8 year old, smiled weakly and continued. “Forget them! I trained and I trained, and when I was older I became part of your mother’s Bladed Ladies.” Eons ago, one Empress had made the decree that she was only to have female guards, There were some places that men could not accompany women. Plus, assassins from other lands would not think that women could be just as deadly and well trained as men.

“When you were born, my assignment was switched to guarding you. I met Ishawari then, and that’s about it, I think.” She grinned and picked up her bowl again. “Now you know.”
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Prince Hotaru listened closely, his imagination running wild as Jin shared her story. He was completely entranced, mouth agape, eyes flashing with excitement. He envisioned Susuka, with its giant boats that brought different people and cultures in from places unheard of. What a sight that would be! He only knew a handful of stories about the outside world from his tutor, Jumenkon, but it was still hard to believe there was more land, beyond Majima.

His fascination then turned to Jin’s mother, who healed with plants and herbs, marveling at her resourcefulness. He imagined Jin’s father as a powerful warrior, one from a distant land, who could pick little Jin up as if she were a temari, brandishing a magnificent blade as the city’s protector. Hearing about her parents, it started to make sense how Jin was so clever with both swords and mind.

Halfway through her storytelling there was a moment of unease, a silence, layered in something that the young prince couldn’t detect. Ishawari, however, sensed it; the part in her story that’s always left out, the part he never forces her to tell. Still, it felt good to hear her reminisce about her past, even if it also dug up things not worth remembering. He very much enjoyed her story, her fondness for her parents, and secretly envied the love they seemed to have for her.

“Oah!” Prince Hotaru smiled, but it faded as he said, “Your parents remind me of my own.”

You must be strong, my son.

The boy resisted his tears. He frowned, forcing a stern expression that he imagined Jin’s father had when confronting bandits trying to pillage their city.

“Thank you for sharing, Ji-, Akemi-san.” Hotaru bowed, then turned to Ishawari, who finished eating.

“Yes, thank you Akemi-san, for both the story and the meal! It was quite delicious today!” Ishawari said, picking a piece of burnt rice from his teeth. “The rice, well, it is what it is, but the fish! You’ve really come a long way! Was that freshly caught from-“

“Takumi-san!” Prince Hotaru crossed his arms. “Akemi-san was trusting enough to share her story, are you not trusting of us to listen to yours?”

His fiery words caught Ishawari off guard; Empress Chigusa’s sternness, flashing in the young boy’s eyes.

“Very well,” Ishawari sighed, clearing his throat after downing the rest of his tea, wishing it were rice wine instead, “My village was nothing like this. Here, people work hard, yes, but there’s freedom to be had. Laughter to be shared. A community. Uyoji, wasn’t this.”

“Why?” Prince Hotaru asked, genuinely concerned.

“Think of it like,” Ishawari searched his mind for a relatable comparison, a flowery one, “the royal army, how soldiers must work hard and train so they can protect the lands of Majima. Well, that’s no different than my village; Everyone who trains at Uyoji Villa is meant to become a great protector.”

Prince Hotaru thought long and hard, gathering fragments from Jumenkon’s lectures. Nothing about an Uyoji Villa came to mind.

“Where is your village? Is it along the coast like Susuka?” The Prince asked, visibly irritated at Ishawari’s vague description. Ishawari sighed again, loosening his guard just a little bit more.

“Deeply south from the Emperor’s palace, on the highest snow caps of Najino Mountains. It’s said that Baijiro, The Diamond-Eyed Dragon’s Herald, carved out Uyoji Villa with just his spirit halberd.”

“W,what?” He had the prince’s attention now. “He carved a village out from a mountain? Like clay? You’re lying, Takumi-san!”

Ishawari insisted, grabbing one of his chop sticks, and slashed it through the air as if he were Baijiro himself.

“This was when magic flowed freely throughout the realm, back when it existed in harmony with us and nature. That was over one hundred years ago, Han, before magic fled during the great wars, before your family, the Yomiyawa, united all banners under one. Uyoji Villa was meant to be a place where masters could meet between heaven and earth, to perfect their skills and become Saintly Grandmasters.”

“Are you a Grandmaster?” Prince Hotaru’s eyes widened and Ishawari laughed.

“No, no, far from it I’m afraid. My mother and father, now they were Grandmasters. Mother Zia, the moon, and Father Ittosai, the sun. Together they were: ‘The Duo of the Evolving Eclipse,’ which, if you ask me, sounds like a cheesy kabuki play. Mother Zia was a force with the bow staff and Father Ittosai, an equal genius with the knife. I suppose that’s why they made me train with the spear, a combination of their mastery.”

“Amazing, Takumi-san! You were raised by Grandmasters? They must’ve been strong!”

A memory flashed into his mind, quick as the blows that struck his temple, ribs, and legs. He stares up at his mother and father, hovering over him, daring him to stand. He doesn’t want to, but he knows if he doesn’t, the bow staff will come down harder, so he gets to his feet, only to fall, again and again.

“Very much so.” Ishawari smiled, the kind of smile one trains to be a mask, hiding what shouldn’t be revealed. “They did their best, but I wasn’t... it wasn’t for me! Living up there in the mountains? How boring! So, I left to travel Majima on a grand adventure, where I met your father.”

Prince Hotaru knew this part of the story all too well, and he smiled with pride, imagining his father fighting off ronin without fear. Ishawari smiled too, at the memory. Emperor Mifune was a healthy man back then, filled with life and excitement. The thrill for adventure spurred him on that wild tour across his lands, the same one his wife would scold him for until her dying days. His heart grew heavy as he reflected on the Emperor’s present condition, suffering within the lion’s den of the royal court. Ishawari wasn’t the only one troubled by this thought. Tears began to swell in Prince Hotaru’s eyes.

You must be strong, my son.

“I CAN’T!” Hotaru cried, leaping into Jin’s arms. He wailed, trying to muffle the sound by burying his face into her shoulder, but the tide couldn't be held back any longer. “I’M NOT STRONG! I’M NOT STRONG! WHY DID I HAVE TO GO!? WHY!?”

Ishawari‘s expression softened. He never felt so helpless, watching as the boy he’s sworn to protect is attacked by the phantoms of sorrow. He rose from his seat and knelt beside them, resting his hand on Prince Hotaru’s back, glancing at Jin with solemn eyes.
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This was not the first time that Jin had heard Ishawari’s story. It was, however, the first time he’d had an audience of 2. It never failed to surprise her. He was a born warrior, in and out, but he was always so calm and collected, and well, normal. Worse fighters than he walked around like they were the Emperor with a blade, so how could Ishawari be so humble? Heck, even Jin raised her head with beaming pride whenever she won a match.

But then, their circumstances were different, weren’t they? Ishawari had never said quite as much, but Jin knew there was something deeply unhappy about his past. Why else would he leave a village full of proud warriors to travel Majima? Jin never would have left home if not for losing her parents. But then, perhaps the Golden Weaver of Fate had a plan for them both, even then.

When the story was mostly over, Jin was about to open her mouth and start a old debate about the presence of magic in Majima. But before the words passed her lips, Prince Hotaru was in her arms, bawling.

“Oh, oh dear...” Instinctively, Jin wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. What else could she do? The Prince was facing circumstances no child should have to deal with, and he’d held up remarkably so far. So, what were tears for an 8 year old? Perfectly normal, that’s what. Jin held him and let him cry. She looked back at Ishawari, her own eyes brimming with tears. It hurt to hear that kind of pain.

When the tears started to subside into little hiccups, Jin finally spoke.

“My dearest Han, I am so proud of you. Ishawari is as well. I am certain your father is as too, and your sweet mother in heaven looks down upon you with love. You are doing wonderfully. I can’t imagine how much your heart must hurt by leaving your home and family behind. But can I tell you a secret?”

There was a muffled “uh huh” from the folds of Jin’s kimono.

Jin dropped her voice conspiratorially. “No one can hold a burden forever.”

There was silence, then the Prince looked up confusedly at Jin. “What do you mean?”

“Well, think of it this way. Imagine that you are carrying a very large rock. It does not seem heavy at first. But as the miles go on, it gets heavier and heavier. Your arms shake and your back hurts, and finally you must set it down.” She thought a moment, trying to explain the best she could.

“But when you look back, you have carried the rock all this way, without stopping. And now, you must rest. Everyone has to lay down their burdens sometimes. This does not mean you are weak. It means you are strong, and it means you are human.” Jin gazed down at Hotaru. “Promise me. When it hurts too much to bear, when you can’t hold the tears back anymore, you come to us. Alright? We will not judge you.”

Hotaru looked at Jin for a long time. She wondered just what was going through his little mind.

Finally he spoke. “Thank you, Akemi-san. I will do that.” There was a fierce little fire in his eyes, one that reminded Jin so much of Empress Chigusa. Then he rubbed his wet face on his sleeve, and Jin remembered that for all his fire, he was still just a boy.
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Ishawari knelt quietly beside the two, his hand still gently pressed against Prince Hotaru’s back. The storm in the boy’s heart had lessened, thumping more like soft rain ripples on a pond. He nodded to Jin approvingly, admiring her way with words. He often teased that she was far more suited for the Royal Court, and given the present circumstance, she would’ve been a much needed improvement. Nature’s symphony of insects filled the silence between the three. Then, Prince Hotaru got down from Jin’s lap and stood on his own two feet. He faced them both with stern determination.

“Thank you.” The Prince bowed, and out of habit, Ishawari made sure to bow even lower as he did. “You left your home and your family, to protect my home, and my family, and now you protect me. Bad people want to hurt this land, but... I won’t let that happen!”

The prince straightened upright, commanding an aura that encapsulated the genuine serenity and fiery countenance of his parents.

“You left your homes and now I have left mine, but we will return. I will come back, and I will protect what is ours. I swear it!”

If Ishawari could bow any lower, he would. Instead, he kept his head low, averting his eyes. He will remember these words and keep them close to his heart, the spell that enchants undying loyalty, one summoned not by magic, but cast by a child’s innocence.

***

Ishawari sat on his chair, staring from across the living space and into the room where Prince Hotaru slept in peace. He thought long and hard about the coming days, tried thinking up contingency upon contingency. It made him restless, worrisome, and with the prince’s resounding conviction, the pressure only intensified.

“I was out at the Ochi family’s farm today, the one along the outskirts.” He said to Jin, his eyes never leaving the prince. “It was a normal day until their eldest son came running to us, claiming he saw a dead body out on the path leading into the village. I went over and thought the same thing, until I rolled the body onto his back and saw that it was Saito, the town drunk. Other than that, the family hasn’t noticed anything peculiar. No bandits or vagrants lurking the trail, just the same villagers that come to and from the port. How about you? How goes it with old lady Kana?”

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Jin was surprised and pleased as Prince Hotaru recovered his composure. She bowed low as he got up and thanked her, and she found herself smiling.

“You left your homes and now I have left mine, but we will return. I will come back, and I will protect what is ours. I swear it!”

She felt chills as the Prince stood up straight and declared his future. She saw his parents in him, proud and courageous and strong. She embedded this moment in her memory, for the next time she started to worry about the Prince. Yes, he was a child, but he was also their future Emperor, born for the role. No better had it shown than right now. Jin found herself deeply proud of him, as if she really were his aunt.

“Well done, my Prince.” She whispered as she bowed deep, nose toward the floor. “Well done.”

-

After seeing the boy to bed, Jin stayed awake with Ishawari. She was doing push ups in a slim robe, in her usual nightly effort to keep her body trim and ready. Ishawari’s farm work kept his muscles up, but Jin’s plant gathering left her full of energy most nights.

“51, 52, 53...” She counted softly as Ishawari went over his day. Her heart sped as he mentioned a dead body, but she let out a relieved breath once she understood the truth of the situation. It was a shame about the old drunk, but it could have been far worse.

“Well – 54 – Kana and I had our usual walk this evening. Luckily she’s easy to get talking. I give her and inch and off she goes about the village business.” 55, 56. “So far, there’s been nothing. The Hoshikawa’s are having another child, and bets are on whether it will be their fourth boy, or a girl this time. There was a scuffle at the port, and Ogawa-san who lives by the temple is now in prison. There’s a collection for his family, for those who want to donate. Kana has heard of no one new in town besides us, and all is well.” She exhaled slowly, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead.

“It’s too quiet, Ishawari. My mind goes from disaster to disaster at night, and it’s all I can do to sleep. I keep wondering when the next attack is going to be.” She lapsed into silence, counting push ups in her head for a while.

“In any case, we’ve got 5 more days until we’re to meet the mysterious ferryman at the Wilting Blossoms. I am going to miss this place. Maybe one day, we can return.” She smiled a bit at the thought. Imagine having a normal life like a normal woman, just her and Ishawari and a few rambunctious children -

Her brain halted that train of thought immediately. Now was not the time for dreams that could never come true.
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Ishawari momentarily glanced at Jin, who was shimmering in sweat. The room suddenly felt hot. The two had always kept things fairly professional, but here, away from strict royal guidelines, it was almost as if he were looking at her for the first time. Even more so without their regulation attire on. He cleared his throat, focusing more on her summary of today’s events. He acknowledged everything she said with a nod, twirling a loose strand from the unkept mustache of his beard. He thought about the prospect of returning to Hanowa village.

“With the Gods’ permission, I wouldn’t mind coming back. There’s something about this place, isn’t there? Their hospitality has been overwhelmingly...refreshing. To be so genuine without knowing who we truly are, who the boy really is? I am just glad he’s able to experience a place like this, with us.” His gaze fell back onto the sleeping child, remembering when he was just a babe, then wondered what kind of man he’d grow up to be, Gods’ permitting his survival. He frowned at that last thought, shaking his head in protest for allowing doubt to enter his mind. Prince Hotaru will endure this. He will come back to reclaim this realm. We will make sure of that. One step at a time, we will make it so.

He recalls the night before their escape, when the Emperor summoned the pair to his chambers. Their lord forced them to commit his poem to memory, commenting on small details here and there, but was otherwise tightlipped about the whole ordeal. Who were they to press the Emperor of Majima, but looking back on it now, Ishawari wished he lacked such decorum. What they did know was that the secret talisman hidden in Prince Hotaru’s possession was key for discerning who to trust. The simple wooden carving of a nightingale is absent of jewels or royal bluster, fashioned on the boy as a necklace. When presented, agents will recite the specific line of the poem they’re currently on, and heading to next.

“Five days...” Ishawari said, reciting the first two lines of the poem in his head, ”Then the Ferryman will take us to the Smiling Monk. I’m not sure what aggravates me more: This quiet refuge without a hint of an assassin’s lure, or the obscurity of this poem. At least Daigo’s timely escort proves its authenticity, but I wish we were filled in on the details, especially whoever this Mentor is.”


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"Details would be lovely."

Her nightly exercise over at 100 push ups, Jin pulled herself to a sitting position and wiped her forehead. She was panting slightly. If she had noticed Ishawari’s gaze, she chose not to mention it. “I have turned that damned poem over and over in my head, searching for clues. I feel like we didn’t get the whole story. I wish-” Now was not the time for wishes, but here it was anyway.

“I wish I had been rude and just outright asked where we were headed. I mean, I think I understand the need for that level of secrecy, but couldn’t just the two of us be trusted with a destination? It aggravates me deeply that I didn’t ask more questions. Maybe the Emperor could have given us a clue, just one time hint. A translation. A treasure map. I’ll take anything.”

She sighed heavily and flopped on her back.

“I feel like we’re on a rickety bridge, with rocks on either side.” She huffed softly. “And the bridge is on fire.” Maybe she was exaggerating, but Jin really felt that danger was around every corner. Maybe she was being paranoid. Appropriate levels of paranoid, but still...

She shook her head, trying to banish the fear. Her mind got like that when it was too quiet. “But we will see this through. I have to keep reminding myself of that. No matter what, we will see the Prince to his destination.” What happened after that, she wasn’t sure. Would he still need guards when he reached the mysterious Mentor? Where would they go? Jin would like to stay beside the Prince, watch him grow and maybe guide him as well.

“Well- I am thinking too much, and I am sweaty. I am going to take a bath.” Their little wooden bath was at the back of the house, outside near a small cistern where they could pump water. It wouldn’t be hot, but it was better than nothing.

As she passed by, she laid her hand on Ishawari’s shoulder and smiled warmly.

“Thank you for being here. I don’t think I’d be able to do this if it wasn’t with you.”

Then she went outside.
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"Likewise." He held her hand in place with his for a moment, then released as she went outside. The sound of her foot steps trailed off into the cicada's echoes, leaving him with his thoughts.

"I hope the Emperor is well..." Ishawari whispered.

***


The lord of Majima rose from his chair with the help of a servant. His illness subsided for now as color slowly returned to his face. Before him stood three members of the Royal Court, the only officials left he could trust. They bowed on bent knees, averting their eyes.

"How fares my son?" Emperor Mifune asked, standing on his own two feet.

"My Lord, Daigo reports the boy is safe with the Nightingales." Useugi, the oldest of the three, said. "They wait for the right opportunity to advance toward the next line of the poem."

His tense shoulders relaxed, but he was still visibly troubled.

"Any clues as to who sent those assassins?" The Emperor said, clenching his teeth. They tried to kill my son!

"Nothing concrete, my lord." The woman official, Setsuna, responded. "But we believe Official Hideo Gan might be behind it all. The traitors in your court seem to gravitate towards him."

The Emperor scowled at the name: Hideo Gan. For years, the man has pecked at his side, relentless with his proposals, suggestions, and underhanded schemes. Of course it would be this man! I'll kill him myself!

"They plan in secret," The third official, Meijo, said. "Dissent has already sowed its way through the royal army. If they intend to overthrow you, my lord, it will be soon."

"We've doubled your guards, my lord, but..." Useugi shared glances with the other two officials, then craned his head up to stare into the Emperor's sullen eyes. "We think it wise you follow the poem's verse as well."

"My fate is sealed here, Useugi." Emperor Mifune said, "We will stall the court for as long as we can, until my son is safe. So long as he breathes, our legacy will endure."

"Our agents are in position to help with the prince's escort, my lord." Meijo assured, "They will give their lives to make sure he reunites with The Mentor."

In that moment, Emperor Mifune sighed. Weakness overwhelmed him once more, and the servant quickly shuffled over to carry him back to his chair. The three officials pounced to his aid, but Mifune brought up his hand.

"We will not rest until that is made into a reality." The Emperor said, and they bowed in agreement.

***


Ishawari rose from the small wooden stool, then carried it over to the doorway of the prince's room. He placed it against the sliding door frame, then gently sat down. Arms crossed, back pressed up against the door frame, he watched as the boy slept in peace. He resisted the urge to do the same, but his body yearned for rest, and he eventually nodded off into his own slumber.



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Jin took her sweet time in the bath, scrubbing away and generally enjoying the time to herself. It was nice to have silence and just one’s own thoughts. Most of said thoughts were about the 5 days ahead of them, and plan after plan for what they needed to do. With the Gods’ blessing, it would be a short and uneventful journey for the three of them. Once she was done, she redressed in a clean robe and headed inside, humming softly to herself.

She noticed Ishawari asleep in the c hair and marveled at how he was staying upright. He could probably sleep standing up if the situation called for it. Jin was not the type of person who could sleep anywhere, unfortunately. It had led to a lot of exhausted nights on uncomfortable patrols. With a little smile, she found a blanket and draped it over him, then slipped into the room to sleep on the mat in the corner. Ishawari’s breathing and the Prince’s tiny snores lulled her off to sleep.

-

“JIN!”

“HELP ME!”

Their house was a sea of flame. Jin could barely see her own face in the smoke and blistering heat. “Prince Hotaru, where are you?!”

She stepped in, the fire searing at her skin and robes. It hurt, but she had to get to the Prince no matter what. He called for her and called for her, but she couldn’t see him. She tried to run through the flames, but it was as if her feet were stuck in place. Why couldn’t she get closer? And where was Ishawari?!

Jin ran and ran, getting nowhere. Eventually she stumbled and fell. She thought it was a beam of wood, but when she turned it over, Ishawari’s lifeless gaze stared back at her. She sunk to her knees, clung to him as if she could bring him back to life with a touch. “No- this is all wrong – I was only gone for a few hours! No, no, no-”

The house creaked around her, and then began to collapse.

“NO!”

-
Jin woke up screaming.
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A blood curdling scream woke Ishawari into full alert mode. He rushed to Prince Hotaru’s bedside with chair in hand, nearly tripping on the blanket that was put on him. He quickly observed that the sound didn’t come from the boy, who was still fast asleep. Ishawari then turned as he heard gasps for air coming from the far corner of the room.

“Jin?!” Ishawari set the chair aside and sprang to her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He surveyed her from the dim light that glowed from the room’s lantern, but couldn’t detect any foul play. When he realized that she was just having a bad dream, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Scared me...” Was all he could say. Ishawari drooped down beside her, hugging her with elation, relieved to know that his worst fears hadn’t come true on this night.
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Jin was shaking as she truly came awake, slowly realizing that their house was not on fire and everything was okay. She clung to Ishawari, trying to breathe and push away the last claws of the nightmare that had her in it's grip.

"You're okay... thank the Gods." She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. It had been so vivid, and he’d been so cold and stiff in the midst of the flame. “I thought… I dreamt I lost you. The house was on fire, the Prince was still inside. It was so real...”

Jin hated the nightmares. For some reason, all of her daily stresses and fears tended to come out in her sleep. It had been this way all of her life. It actually wasn’t the first time she’d had a nightmare since leaving the palace, but this was the first one to wake her in such a dramatic fashion.

Once she was sure she could speak without bursting into some very childish tears, she let him go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” A quick glance left and right told her that the Prince was still fast asleep, and that it was still night outside the window.

“It’s not even dawn yet...”
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“No, I’m afraid not.” Ishawari responded, gently rubbing her back like he did with Prince Hotaru. “I must say, he’s quite the heavy sleeper.”

His thoughts fell to her concerns about his safety as she recalled her vivid nightmare.

“A house fire?” He relaxed his massage, feeling it might’ve overstayed its welcome and withdrew his hands back to his lap. “Surely not from your cooking. It’s not that bad, ya know? Far better than what I could hope to drum up. Gods, they’d think it an assassination attempt, have me executed for trying to poison the child with my culinary arts.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

“Oh, to see the shame on my parent’s faces.” Ishawari muffled his cackling. “They’d really hate me then.”

He turned back to her with concerned eyes, perhaps unsheathing his own vulnerabilities in that moment when he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”


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Jin couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of Ishawari being tried for poison. As bad as her rice was, it really wasn’t quite a match for his “cooking”. The smell of burnt fish still wasn’t out of the walls. So much smoke that night, and she’d taken over the stove since.

“I’m sure it’s not quite poison, Ishawari. You just need practice. Or maybe we just eat the fish raw.”

She sighed, taking comfort at his warm touch for a moment. “I’m fine. It was just a dream, and dreams are nothing to be afraid of.” Even if her heart wasn’t quite back to it’s normal speed. But that possibly had little to do with the nightmare.

“I promise, I’m alright. But I think I’m good and awake. I’m not sure what I’ll do until dawn, though.” A good part of her itched for her stored weapons. Every day, she could feel her skill getting farther and farther away. It hurt, feeling her talent dwindle through idle fingers. She longed for the weight of steel in her hand, just for a moment.

“Maybe you can go back to sleep?”

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Ishawari answered her question with a question. “Perhaps some training is in order?” His eyes lit up at the idea, but lowered his head as he glanced over at the sleeping prince. “Well, maybe you can get a session done. I’ll stay with the prince.”

He rose from her mattress and walked back towards the doorway, taking his chair with him. “Oh, and thanks for the blanket.” Ishawari smiled as he scooped up the fabric, placing it on his lap after he sat back down by the doorway.

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"You're right. I should keep myself sharp." Jin grinned widely, glad that they were on the same wavelength. "You rest. I'll be outside if you need me."

With that, she rose up and went to the cupboard. Behind all of the pots and pans lay two heavy sticks that Jin had carefully chosen, as they were about the weight of her blades and suitable for practice. A long stick that served for Ishawari's "spear" was tucked behind it.

With her false weapons, she headed outside. She steadied her breathing, banishing the last of her fear, and calming her heart. Then she knelt and bowed to the ground, a ritual move from years of training. "For the good of Majima."

Then she stood up and began to practice. Slowly at first, then faster, she began to dance her way around a massive oak tree that served as her target. She stayed silent, her strikes the only noise in the midst of the night. Over and over, she struck, shaking leaves from their branches as she worked up a sweat. It felt like old times. She lost herself in the movement and rhythm, until her nightmare was gone and there was just this, just the deadly dance.

-

Dawn found her curled up beside the tree, her cheek resting on it's sturdy trunk.
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Ishawari straightened his posture as he heard the klack! from Jin’s wooden swords, beating against oak with swift purpose, in patterns too difficult to time. He thought about their pairing, her short blades complementing his spear. When the two worked together, they fought as one, filling the gaps in defensive holes and setting up offensive traps for the other to take advantage of. While the concern for the prince was always on the back of his mind, was it wrong that he was secretly excited? He hoped no conflict would arise, hoped that the rest of their journey was as uneventful as their time here in Hanowa village, but a small piece of him desired otherwise. His warrior spirit was awakened that night against the masked assassins, further imbued by the honorable cause of protecting the Yomiyawa family’s last heir. Was this what his parents meant by following the Warrior Path? No, I can’t let my own desires cloud the bigger picture here.

He closed his eyes and focused his attention to the sound of Jin’s sticks, stirring him into a battle trance as he untangled his thoughts with slow, precise breaths. A calm aura overwhelmed him. He started to envision Jin’s moves, allowing a stream of ideas flow through his mind as he observed where to strike after her move, which direction to parry the enemy blade, and where to thrust his spear to allow for her critical strikes. He then observed himself as the main attacker and Jin in the support role, twirling his spear overhead as she deflects from below. A whirlwind of blades, he grinned at the description he remembered one soldier gave them, but chided himself for gloating. Unseen threats will stay invisible so long as you look through the eyes of your own ego. Ishawari frowned at his father’s pearl of wisdom. But instead of chucking it to the void, he held it close, humbling his own heart, and engaged in meditative stillness.

The sound of clacking sticks fell silent to the coming of dawn, ushering in another day.
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Jin awoke next to the tree, yawning and rubbing the impression of bark from her cheek. Birds were chirping merrily above her head. She got up, embarrassment all over her face, hastily heading inside before she was seen.

The house was quiet, still. The Prince was still blissfully asleep, and Ishawari was too. That left Jin alone to start breakfast, which was fine with her. Usually too much quiet was a bore, but she was starting to get used to it here. She threw some sticks into the stove and lit it with a match, letting the warmth coat her hands. It briefly brought back a flash of last night’s nightmare, and she shut the metal stove with a clang.

“Enough of that.” She muttered to herself. Then she put a pot on the stove and started to prepare breakfast. Miso soup was the order of the morning: filling, easy and blissfully simple. Even she couldn’t burn soup!

The smell of the meal soon began to waft through the little house, while Jin enjoyed a cup of green tea to wake herself for the day. If the Prince didn’t get up soon, she’d have to wake him herself. There was a small school here for the local children. While it was far behind what Prince Hotaru had already been taught, they made him attend anyway. Both to keep him occupied and prevent suspicion on their part.

Jin stood with her tea and peeked in the room where both of them were still sleeping away. Maybe she could give them ten more minutes.
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Ishawari woke to the soft yawns of Prince Hotaru. Jin was brewing something on the stove, and nodded satisfactorily at the distinct scent of fermented soybeans.

“Mmmm... Miso?” The boy said, groggily rolling over to face Ishawari, who nodded as soon as they made eye contact. The boy made a big grin with his eyes closed, stretching his limbs until they could go no further. “I’m so hungry, I might just eat it all!”

“Let’s go, Han.” Ishawari said, noting the hesitation he still has when calling the prince by his alias, doubting he’ll ever get used to it. “Go get ready for school. Take a bath and try wearing a different colored robe this time, yeah?”

The prince groaned in protest, wanting to stay in bed just a minute longer. “You go take a bath! You go get ready for school! You wear a different robe this time!”

Ishawari rose from his chair, feeling the knots running taut around his shoulders as he rested his hands on his hips. Prince Hotaru sensed the bodyguard’s agitation, saw the stern look in his eyes, and feared the worst as Ishawari flashed a mischievous grin on his face.

***


“No!!! Akemi-san! Help me! The prince needs saving!” Hotaru cried out as Ishawari carried him over his shoulder toward the exit. He fought and fought, but Ishwari’s hold was too much. He punched and kicked at his right shoulder and ribs, but it did more harm than good as it felt like he was fighting a boulder. In the boy’s last desperate attempt, he went for Ishawari’s armpit, scuttling his hands at the sensitive area like frantic little spiders.

“Gah!” Ishawari’s grip on the prince loosened, but it was just in time, as he dumped the boy into the freshly drawn bath with his green robe still on. Prince Hotaru emerged from the cold water with a shrieking laugh, splashing at Ishawari, then taking off his robe to throw it at him with all of his might. It smacked Ishawari in the face with such a loud whip that Prince Hotaru nearly choked on bath water from laughter. After peeling off the prince’s robe from his face, he barked:

“Scrub good! Stay in there until your fingers prune!”

The boy’s bald head bounced up and down along the bath, flashing his fingers at him mockingly. Then he smelled them, and contorted his face with disgust.

“Ew! Your armpits stink, Takumi-san! You should take a bath until your fingers fall off!” The prince laughed. Ishawari finally broke from his serious exterior, chuckling as he ran up to him, playfully threatening to topple the bath onto its side. Ishawari eventually let him be, and when Hotaru checked to make sure every finger was adequately pruned, he leaped out of the bath and into a towel prepared by the bodyguard. Off to the side on a tree stump were dark brown pants, a blue robe, and wheated sandals waiting to be put on.

“Good, now go inside and see if Akemi-san needs any help. I’ll be there in a bit.” The bald prince nodded, mocking Ishawari’s serious face while he marched back into the house. Ishawari shook his head with a grin as he dumped the bathwater, preparing the wooden tub with his own, which was much more colder. Yes, it was shaping up to be another regular day in Hanowa village, and the bodyguard couldn’t be any more content with that.

***


“Hello, Akemi-san! Takumi-san is taking bath.” The prince bowed, eyes fixed on the boiling pot as he was visibly salivating the morning’s feast. “Can I help?”



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