Chapter 228

To she, it seemed as if a heavy, suffocating silence had saturated the room.

The setting was a study in the main estate, a room the Onitsuki family had leased from the Oumi family for the head's official business. Two adults sat in the seats of honor. One sat listlessly, while the other remained close by, almost huddled against them. The latter was reading a Fuumi

¹ missive, the paper rasping with every movement. Opposite them, in the lower seats, sat two others-likewise acting as attendants.

...No, the one who had brought that letter and turned the atmosphere so grim thought the situation felt a bit more barbed than mere attendance.

"An Imperial Envoy to the Old Capital... an escort for the Messenger of Offerings? That would mean preparations for the Divine Banquet Festival, wouldn't it? My, my, my. Isn't this just the most wonderful honor desuwa?"

One of the four present, the one waiting beside the seat of honor, finished reading the missive in her hand. Onitsuki Sumire, the Onitsuki Madam, let out a drawled exclamation that sounded almost flippant. She narrowed her eyes and fixed her gaze on her disciple.

"?! Y-yes! Absolutely!"

Hotoya Tamaki was startled by how pathetically rattled her own voice sounded. It wasn't that she sensed any literal bloodlust, but she felt a chill as if a cold blade were being pressed against her spine. She couldn't help but hunch her shoulders.

"It is certainly an honor. Though it is a bit... unpleasant to be informed of it in such an unofficial, meddlesome way," said the girl pouting beside her.

Whether she noticed Tamaki's distress or not, the girl spoke up. She was the youngest daughter of the Ako family, a bob-haired junior disciple and a relative of the Madam. Her tone seemed less an indictment of the Minister of the Left and more a jab at Tamaki herself. It sounded less like mockery and more like pure suspicion.

The whole affair had started with a letter handed over during a trip to the theater. Its contents, presented to the Onitsuki heads, were a notification of an informal appointment, entrusting Hotoya Tamaki with a new duty. The mission itself was prestigious, yes. However, the fact that such a thing was being granted to Hotoya Tamaki-a newcomer with zero family history-and that it was leaked in this manner beforehand, was a bit of a problem. Mostly for the sake of the Onitsuki family's pride.

"I am... deeply humbled," Tamaki managed.

She didn't push back. She understood the situation. It was impossible to deny that someone of her low standing being given such a traditional, glorious task looked like blatant favoritism. People would naturally assume she'd begged for the favor. After all, serving in the People's Exorcism Guard while being an Onitsuki retainer was like trying to ride two horses at once. It wasn't forbidden, but it didn't exactly look sincere.

...Though, the Ako girl's foul mood probably had other roots as well.

"By the way, Murasaki-san, you've also been recommended as an escort," the Madam noted.

"What?! Is-is that really true?!"

Murasaki, who had been wearing a sharp, jealous scowl, completely broke character at the Madam's remark. Her reaction was a chaotic blur of joy, tension, and shock. She was clearly blindsided. Tamaki, who hadn't seen the letter's contents either, felt the same way.

(Was this... a calculated kindness?) Tamaki wondered.

It felt a bit rude to think that way about her senior disciple, but the thought lingered. If Tamaki had been the only one picked, the backlash would have been severe. By naming the Ako disciple as well, the Minister likely ensured they wouldn't turn on each other and that Tamaki wouldn't be an easy target for gossip. There was no doubt-the Minister of the Left was a man of profound virtue, always thinking three steps ahead. Tamaki felt a wave of gratitude for his consideration.

"Of course it is. Look here... 'Since she hails from the Ako family, famed for their mastery of their swordsmanship, I insist she serve with her renowned skill.' Since the main branch of your family is stuck in the Western region, he wants you to serve the Imperial Court with all your might as the representative of the Ako."

"I... I am honored beyond words..."

As the Madam showed her the letter, Murasaki's face twisted into an expression bordering on religious ecstasy. To be praised by the Minister of the Left, a man known for his benevolence, was one thing-but for the Ako family, known for their fierce loyalty to the throne, these words were everything. She was beyond moved.

"...Very well. Since it is a glorious command from the Imperial Court, it is only right that we receive it with joy."

The voice came from the seat of honor, which had been silent until now. Everyone, Tamaki included, turned to look. The voice was hoarse, yet the words didn't blur; they hit the ear with eerie clarity. The head of the Onitsuki house, Yusei, fixed a vacant yet piercing gaze on Tamaki.

"Hotoya Tamaki. As a retainer of the Onitsuki-as our representative-see that you commit no discourtesy. Fulfill every facet of this duty."

"Y-yes, sir!"

Tamaki barked her response to the flat, almost toneless command. It came from a place of pure guilt. Her insecurity manifested as a burst of forced energy, making her sound far more confident than she felt-as if she were trying to shout away the fear in her heart.

Yusei didn't say another word to her. Instead, his eyes drifted to the girl at Tamaki's side.

"Murasaki-dono. It is a selfish request, but I ask that you look after our retainer. I am ashamed to admit that Tamaki has little experience or knowledge; this burden is too heavy for her to carry alone."

"Understood! My junior's honor is my honor, my aunt's honor, and the honor of the Ako! I shall see to her education personally!"

Murasaki puffed out her chest, accepting the request with gusto. There was no reason to refuse. In her mind, she was now a proxy for her father and brothers, acting for the glory of the Ako name. If they could do it, why couldn't she?

"What a lovely answer. I'll be counting on you as well," the Madam added. "Tamaki-san, you should ask her properly, too."

"R-right! Murasaki-sama... I look forward to your guidance!"

"Hmph, fine then! You just make sure to rely on your senior! I'll teach you everything-step by step!"

Murasaki's pride swelled as Tamaki bowed deeply. She was huffing with self-importance, her stray hairs twitching like an excited dog's tail, though Tamaki knew better than to point that out.

"Oh, speaking of disciples... I feel like I haven't seen the Advisor or her disciple lately. I wonder where they've gone? Especially now, when their precious Tamaki-san has achieved such glory..."

At that casual remark, Tamaki felt the air in the room turn leaden. Murasaki looked confused. She knew better than to bring up the Onitsuki daughters-who had been missing lately-in front of the parents. But she had assumed the Advisor and the youth who was once a boy were safe topics. She felt like she'd just tripped into a pitfall of her own making.

Tamaki stayed quiet. She didn't know either. The Advisor, who acted like a surrogate mother, and the blunt but kind senior disciple were just... gone. She didn't know why, and the way the couple was reacting made her realize she didn't understand anything at all.

"...Mother is currently imposing upon the young lady of the Tachibana family, is she not?" Yusei asked.

"Yes. She went to oversee the security of a villa belonging to a merchant family she's close with. She loaded the car with a mountain of ritual tools and curses to fortify the estate and left with her disciple," Sumire answered her husband with a thin smile. She then turned her gaze to Tamaki and Murasaki. "Besides, it seems Aoi is quite close with that young lady. Our daughter likely went along to play. ...I'm sure Grandmother is just keeping an eye on things to make sure Kochou's granddaughter doesn't cause any trouble."

Sumire spoke as if she were a mother at her wit's end, but her tone made it impossible to tell if she actually felt any respect for her mother-in-law.

"I... I see..." Murasaki stammered.

She felt like she had just narrowly avoided being decapitated. A cold sweat broke out on her skin, mixed with a sudden pang of jealousy-jealousy that her idolized cousin was getting cozy with some merchant family that had nothing to do with the business of exorcism.

"...Honestly, it's a headache. To think she'd trouble Mother so."

"It's my fault for not being stricter with their upbringing. Please, forgive me. ...It's even started to rub off on Hina. Did you know? That girl went and bought a mountain all on her own."

"Hmm..."

Apparently, she had bought an entire mountain on the opposite side of the Tachibana villa, paying for the land in full without a word of consultation. Sumire relayed this to her husband as if the disciples weren't even there.

"She made some excuse about needing a secluded place for her ascetic training... but really, it would be quite a scandal if someone saw a girl of marriageable age standing under a waterfall in the middle of nowhere, wouldn't it?"

Sumire gave a small, knowing chuckle. To the two disciples, it felt like she was hinting at something dark. The husband remained silent, though he seemed to radiate a faint, awkward energy.

"...Oh, dear, I'm sorry. I'm sure listening to an aunt complain about her daughters isn't very interesting, is it?"

"Oh, no! Not at all... um..."

Tamaki fumbled for a response. She didn't know if agreeing or disagreeing would be the greater insult.

"...I will provide the funds for your travels. Prepare for the escort duty immediately. You are dismissed," Yusei commanded.

""Y-yes, sir!""

The head's dismissal was a lifeline. Tamaki and Murasaki bowed in perfect, comical unison and scrambled out of the room as fast as their legs would carry them.

The door clicked shut.

Tamaki and Murasaki stepped out onto the veranda, walking a few paces in silence before both let out a heavy sigh of relief in unison. They caught each other's eyes.

"…What are you sighing for?" Murasaki asked.

"Well, I could ask you the same thing, Murasaki-san," Tamaki replied.

"I just… Cough. Regardless, I never imagined an opportunity to guard the Imperial Envoy

² would actually come my way. It's a staggering honor, though it caught me off guard, I'll admit."

Murasaki had been momentarily rattled by Tamaki's observation, and she masked her embarrassment with a dry cough and a quick change of subject. Tamaki noticed the dodge but didn't press her; there were more important things to worry about.

"Right. That's the problem," Tamaki said.

"What is 'that'?"

"Well… it's great that we accepted the commission and all, but I'm a little in the dark. (Ahaha… To be honest, I don't really know what an 'Imperial Envoy' is, or even what the 'Old Capital' is supposed to be.)"

"You accepted a sacred mission without knowing the first thing about it!?" Murasaki shrieked. "Are you—whoa, wait, ahhh!"

"M-Murasaki-san!?"

Murasaki's scream of exasperation was cut short as her feet, slick in her tabi socks, lost their grip on the polished wood. She slid sideways, heading for a head-first tumble into the garden below.

Tamaki's reflexes were lightning-fast. Springing from her defensive posture like a pouncing cat, she blurred across the veranda to catch her. She swept the falling Murasaki into a bridal carry, her reinforced strength making her weight feel like nothing at all.

"Ngh!?"

"That was close!" Tamaki said.

Their noses nearly brushed. Their breath fanned across each other's skin. At this eye-to-eye distance, Murasaki found herself staring into Tamaki's face. She wasn't classically handsome so much as she was striking—a youthful, boyish energy tempered by a refined, almost delicate grace that gave her a unique, captivating presence.

Murasaki stood dazed for a heartbeat. Then, the reality of her clumsy display and their current position set in. She jerked her gaze away, her face flushing a deep crimson. Tamaki's pure, earnest relief was enough to drain the irritation out of her. She felt like a fool, but she knew she owed her a debt of gratitude.

Murasaki opened her mouth to thank her when—Splash!

A carp leaped from the garden pond. Startled by Murasaki's scream and the sudden commotion, the fish had taken flight, landing squarely on Murasaki's bobbed hair before flopping down onto her stomach. It thrashed energetically against her kimono with a series of wet slaps.

This was a high-end silk crepe kimono, dyed in a traditional root purple. It was her father's pride and joy—her absolute best outfit. Now, it was slick with pond slime and reeked of raw fish. The carp gaped at her, its fin twitching as if in a polite—if slimy—salutation. (Manners mattered, after all.)

"…I know this is a sacred moment, but AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

As her prized kimono was ruined before her eyes, Princess Murasaki let out a wail of pure despair, still cradled in Tamaki's arms.

* * *

The "Old Capital." True to the name, it was the capital of a bygone age. Like "The Capital" itself, it lacked a formal proper name. More accurately, its original name had been lost to time—a deliberate erasure intended to shield the city from The Hex

³.

Legend tells that Empress Isuzu-hime, consort to the first Emperor, was born in this region. Long before the Imperial Court was established—back when slave-dynasties ruled through tyranny and phantoms and fiends scorched the earth and sky—a great hidden sanctuary existed here.

This mountain village, a mere thumbprint of fertile land and fresh water hidden from the eyes of monsters, was a miraculous paradise for its time. The Emperor often visited the area as a merchant, and when the nation of Fuso was founded, this village was the first to join the cause. Several of the village's prominent families remain part of the nobility to this day.

Shortly after Fuso's founding, the village was dubbed the Old Capital. In time, a Saiguu

⁴ palace and a Grand Shrine were built there, and it is said that the Saioo

⁵—the Consecrated Princesses—were secluded within its walls for generations.

"Um… sorry, but what's a 'Saioo'?" Tamaki asked.

"She is a princess of the Emperor's own blood," answered Yona, a maid in the Ako household. She had been tasked with the care of the family's youngest daughter. "Specifically, she is the one among the unwed princesses chosen to serve the gods. She is the Sovereign of the Old Capital and the mistress of its shrines. The Overseer of the Divine Mirror, the Priestess of the Sun and the Harvest. She is the head of all the Miko. ~desuwa"

They were in the main hall of the Ako villa in the Capital. Yona, who was well-educated and came from a respectable lineage herself, continued to explain the weight of the task ahead.

"I-I see…" Tamaki stammered.

"The duty the Princess of Hotoya has been assigned… it is to serve as a guard for the Imperial Envoy during the Shinkyo Festival

⁶, correct?"

"Y-yes."

"The Shinkyo Festival is a major court ceremony—a ritual where the Imperial Court offers the first fruits of the harvest to the heavens. It involves bringing offerings to the Old Capital, which the Emperor eventually partakes in. The Imperial Envoy is the herald of that holy procession. ~desuwa"

Tamaki, a country girl at heart, was struggling to keep up. She brought a hand to her mouth, murmuring the unfamiliar terms as if trying to swallow the scale of the responsibility.

"…So, this is actually a really big deal, isn't it?" Tamaki asked.

"You're just realizing that now!?" Murasaki snapped.

The sharp accusation made Tamaki jump. She turned to find her senior disciple fuming. Her fish-scented kimono was gone, and she had been forced to bathe and purify herself. She had dismissed the male servants, and while she was wrapped in sarashi, she wore only a summer juban—loosely open at the front as she waited to cool down from the bath.

(Incidentally, because there was nothing for the fabric to catch on, the sarashi was in constant danger of sliding down.)

"Hey, where are you looking? You trying to be a jerk?" Murasaki asked.

"What? I didn't say anything!"

Tamaki's bewildered look only made Murasaki pout. She grumpily retightened the sarashi. Being as flat as a board, she had to tie the cloth tight to keep it in place, yet it didn't even feel like it was pressing against anything. She couldn't help but feel the sting of the gap between herself and her aunt or cousins. (No, extra weight is just a hindrance to a swordsman. There's nothing to be ashamed of… wait, why am I even dwelling on this?!)

"Princess…? Is something wrong?" Yona asked.

"Nothing! Yona, bring me my sash!"

Murasaki snapped the order to Yona—who was, by contrast, quite well-endowed. Murasaki couldn't stand being exposed for another second; the strange sense of inferiority was a feeling she refused to investigate. She had the maid help her into her sash and over-garment.

"Listen! Tamaki-san, this is a major event for the Imperial Court. Since you're part of the vanguard, you better act like it! No daydreaming, no getting distracted, and absolutely no acting on impulse! Understood!?"

"U-Understood!" Tamaki said.

She had no choice but to bow under her pointing finger. Every word she said was the truth.

"Hmph. Well, we won't be the only ones on guard. It'll be a massive procession moving through the city roads of the Central Region. Even if the worst happens, no one is going to touch an Imperial Messenger."

"I hope so…" Tamaki murmured.

The mention of Imperial Messengers brought back a bitter memory. During the mission to Mount Anma, the messenger had been kidnapped. Though they were eventually returned, the failure had been crushing. She remembered the guards who had been ready to commit ritual suicide out of shame, and the hollow feeling of her own powerlessness.

Then she remembered her benefactor. The person who had been kidnapped with them but had somehow come back alive, acting as if nothing had happened. Even now, she found herself hoping for a miracle like that again, and she hated herself for such a naive, childish fantasy. Any little thing could trigger the memory of that voice, and the sight of that back she so desperately wanted to lean on.

(God, I'm so pathetic…) Tamaki thought, unable to mask her self-loathing.

"…Tamaki-san. I just told you not to daydream, and you're already off in the clouds?"

Murasaki's sharp jab brought her back to reality. She couldn't even offer a defense.

"Ah, sorry…"

"I don't want an apology. Now… what about your personal retinue? You can't bring any half-yokai or anyone in mourning on a trip like this."

"Retinue?"

"Of course. We were invited by name, but we're the guards. We shouldn't be expected to handle our own chores. If we're going to focus on our jobs, we need people to handle the grunt work. Do you have anyone in mind?"

Tamaki fell silent. If she couldn't use her two closest friends, she would have to ask the Onitsuki house for help. But Tamaki didn't really know the laborers or the maids there. Suzune had always handled everything for her.

(No, it's not just Suzune and Iruka. It's the way they talk about him, too…)

An upstart. A stray dog. A nobody from the gutter… They never said those things to Tamaki's face, but she'd heard the whispers. She couldn't bring herself to trust them.

"…I see. Well, do you have any candidates? You'll need two or three."

"Anyone in mind…" Tamaki searched her memory. Was there anyone she could trust? Anyone she could rely on without that knot of unease in her chest? "…Would it be okay to take people from the Servant Corps

⁷?"

"The Servant Corps?" Murasaki asked.

"Yeah. They've looked after me on a lot of missions. Is that… a bad idea?"

To Tamaki, the fact that they had stood on the front lines together was all the proof she needed. A bond forged in life-and-death struggle wasn't something you found every day. She looked at Murasaki, waiting for her to shoot her down.

"…Actually, that might be a smart move," Murasaki said.

Tamaki blinked, stunned. "…It is?"

"Why are you surprised? You're the one who suggested it."

"Well, yeah, but… I wasn't sure if they were 'appropriate' for a sacred mission like this."

Tamaki trailed off, looking down. She felt guilty for even acknowledging the social stigma. The world looked down on the Servant Corps as "unclean" men who lived and died in the dirt.

"We'll just say we're reinforcing the guard," Murasaki said simply. "To the high-and-mighty nobles, we're all just lower-class rabble anyway. As long as they don't look like they just rolled out of a gutter, the court won't care. Now, the Onitsuki Servant Corps is always busy, so they'll probably only spare two people at most. Is that okay? And I assume there are some women among the servants you're thinking of?"

Tamaki considered Murasaki's explanation, turning it over in her mind as she pictured the scene at the mission's site.

"Yeah, I think it'll work," Tamaki said. "Though I'm sure it'll be a headache for them with all the extra work suddenly piling up."

"The grumbling of servants is of no concern to us," Murasaki replied. "We've hired them, so they will follow orders. That is the end of it. Still... perhaps two people won't be enough to handle everything?"

Murasaki fell into a brief silence, her brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly, she slapped her knee as an idea struck her. "I know just the person. Yona! Bring that man in here!"

"At once!" Yona replied.

Having remained silent to avoid interrupting her lady and Tamaki, the maid rose and slipped out through the paper sliding doors. She returned before long, leading a man Tamaki recognized immediately.

"H-hey now... Princess, what'd you need me for? And... is the Princess of Hotoya here too?"

"Ah, Magoroku-san... it's been a while," Tamaki said.

Tamaki knew this man well. He was a servant who had worked for her benefactor, and the older brother of a girl her own friend had been close with. She saw through Murasaki's intention the moment he entered.

"Magoroku, I'm giving you a job that requires travel," Murasaki said. "I'll be going as well, but your primary duty will be looking after the Princess of Hotoya."

"I-I see. Understood, ma'am. But..."

"Don't you worry about your sister," Yona interrupted, looking down at the bowing Magoroku with the sharp, pressing gaze of a high-ranking maid. "We'll leave her in the hands of people we trust."

Magoroku had no choice but to yield to the pressure of his station. "I gotcha. Princess of Hotoya, I'll be in your care."

"Oh, right. Me too. But you don't have to be so stiff, okay?" Tamaki asked. "Or are you just worried about your sister?"

"Sorry, ma'am. It's just... leavin' her for so long... By the way, where exactly are we headed?"

He was clearly worried about her. His sister was blind and far too fragile for the world. Unfortunately, they couldn't take the "Mayoiga

⁸" carriage this time; it wouldn't be right for guards to ride in a finer vessel than the Emperor's envoy. He would have to leave her behind. Tamaki knew that for a brother like him, every day away would feel like a year.

"It shouldn't take more than a month for the round trip," Murasaki said. "We're heading southeast, to the Old Capital. It's a sacred place, so you'd better fix your appearance and look presentable."

Magoroku went silent. The color drained from his face, leaving his usually warm features pale and bloodless.

"What is it?" Murasaki asked.

"Nothin'... no. Yes, ma'am. I understand. I'll get to packin'. One month... one month, is it?"

Murasaki and Tamaki exchanged a look, feeling a slight flicker of unease at his sudden reaction. Was he really that anxious about being away from his sister, or was it something else?

"Just, well... you say to look presentable, but I'm afraid I'm short on decent clothes and gear," Magoroku said, scratching his head.

"Then we'll provide them," Murasaki declared grandly. "Outfitting a single servant is a trifle for the Ako house. It's a matter of the family's honor. Go tell Yona what you need."

Magoroku bowed repeatedly, looking dazed by the sudden generosity. "Eh? Ah... y-yes, ma'am!"

"Very well. You're dismissed," Murasaki said.

Magoroku bowed so low his head nearly hit the floor before following Yona out of the room. Once they were alone, Murasaki turned to Tamaki. "He was always a bit of a crawler, but he was especially groveling today, wasn't he?"

"Groveling is a bit harsh..." Tamaki replied with a wry smile, though she secretly agreed. Magoroku had always been humble, but today it felt closer to desperation. "You know, you didn't have to force him to come."

"You're the one being selfish," Murasaki pointed out. "Besides, I've already given the order. Or would you like to make your senior sister lose face twice in one day?"

"No, of course not," Tamaki replied.

"Hmph. Well, it's good that he cares for his sister. But it's a needless worry. My house doesn't have the kind of spiteful laborers you'd find at the Onitsuki."

Murasaki wasn't blind to the world's ugliness. The Onitsuki house were obsessed with politics and money, unlike the Ako, who lived for the blade. She had seen the corruption in how they treated the girl when she was first taken in.

"Your sister is quite the koto player," Murasaki added. "My people were impressed by her."

The girl's natural grace and her blindness evoked a protective instinct in everyone she met. Combined with her skill on the koto and her diligent work as a seamstress, she had earned a respectable place in the Ako household. Murasaki wouldn't tolerate any mistreatment - not on her family's pride.

"She's all that's left of that upstart, after all," Murasaki whispered, almost to herself. "I'd lose sleep if something happened to her. I suppose I owe it to him to keep an eye on her, if only so his ghost doesn't come back to haunt me. Maybe I'll even welcome him back during Obon

⁹."

Tamaki remained silent, her mind drifting back to the tragedy at the Juuyaku house. She remembered Mari - sobbing, covered in mud and dust, broken by despair. Her wolf friend had said those three were more like family than master and servants.

(If only I had been better... those two would still be with Tomobe-kun right now...)

How many times had she asked herself that? It was a dead end. The past was set in stone. To keep looking back was just self-pity. The living had to carry the weight of the dead and move forward.

"Senior Sister... do you have training scheduled for today?" Tamaki asked with sudden, formal gravity.

Murasaki narrowed her eyes, then a smirk spread across her face. "The Ako never stop training. Every day is a battlefield. Today is no exception. I was going to loosen up at noon. Fine, then. I'll be your partner."

Murasaki understood. Tamaki wasn't the only one feeling powerless, and with a major mission looming, they both needed to be sharp.

"I'm grateful," Tamaki said.

"Don't thank me. It's a senior's duty to indulge a headstrong junior. It's a matter of -"

Murasaki was cut off by a thunderous growl from her own stomach. The Princess of the Ako froze, her face turning a bright, sudden crimson.

"U-uh... ahaha...?" Tamaki started to let out an awkward laugh, only for an even louder growl to erupt from her own belly. Tamaki turned red, her jaw dropping. She hadn't eaten since a light snack that morning; she'd been too stressed about the letter to keep anything down.

"Pfft... hahah!"

"Hahaha! Hahahah!!"

The tension snapped. The two of them collapsed into laughter, the absurdity of their posturing finally catching up to them. It was a moment of reality. They were alive, right here, right now.

"I assume we aren't skipping lunch then?" Tamaki asked.

"Daily meals are part of the training. That's the Ako way, right?"

"Exactly," Murasaki replied. "A balanced diet builds healthy flesh and a sound spirit. There's no point in rushing back. You're eating here."

Murasaki smiled. Despite the friction over the Exorcism Guard, she knew how to separate work from friendship. She didn't hate Tamaki, and Tamaki had no reason to hate her.

"By the way... can I stay for the afternoon sweets too?"

"My, aren't we getting spoiled? I hear there's fruit daifuku. If you want some, you'd better work for it in the yard."

"Deal. I'm looking forward to it. Though I'll have to watch my weight."

"Don't worry. I'll run you ragged until you've sweated it all off."

They traded jokes, the air between them finally clear. For Tamaki, it was a lifeline. Having Murasaki there - someone undeniably strong - was a support she didn't even realize she was leaning on. And because of that, she still hadn't realized why this "younger" senior sister had been chosen to go with her.

* * *

"So, Lord Regent. We are agreed on these arrangements?"

In a stark, lonely room within the Imperial Palace, the young Minister of the Right, Tatsunono Katayasu

¹⁰, spoke. He looked every bit the cold noble as he stared across the candle stand at the hunched figure of the head of the Shirafujinomiya - a man thirty years his senior who held the highest rank a subject could achieve.

"Umu... Are you certain there are no oversights? Nothing we've missed? No holes in the plan?"

The man, draped in the formal silks of the court, let out a distressed whimper that betrayed his high standing. As the Junior First Rank Regent and Grand Minister of State, he usually moved with an air of absolute prosperity; today, he was a man unraveled.

He was broad-shouldered and stout of frame. Though his hair had begun to silver, his beard remained a thick, defiant black. In his youth, the Emperor's grandfather had been infamous within the palace for his ferocity. Now, he simply turned his eyes toward the Minister of the Right again and again, like a man clinging to a life raft.

(I am utterly disgusted by this sight,) Katsuyasu thought. (Did he not foresee this when he chose such a reckless path?) He looked old-Katsuyasu could see it now. Yet even in his dotage, the voice the man whispered only to himself warned against the slightest lapse in caution. It was a fair warning. In the Imperial Court, a single moment of negligence was a death sentence.

"Act as you always do," the Minister of the Right said calmly. "Observe the ritual seclusion

¹¹ as the rites demand. With the chaos currently erupting across the provinces, no one will find a sudden retreat into prayer suspicious."

"That is exactly the point!" the Regent snapped. He thrust his ceremonial mace forward, his wrinkled face quivering with a visible tremor. "I am worried! If the worst should happen, what then? What becomes of me!?"

"That is why you have your guards. That is why you have me, is it not?" The Minister's tone was almost clinical. "Rest easy, Prince Shirofuji. Simply wait for the good news in the capital. I shall ensure everything is handled without a single hitch."

The Minister of the Right's composure seemed to deepen in direct opposition to the Regent's panic. It was a stillness as absolute as a frozen lake. Not a single ripple of doubt disturbed his surface, yet deep within his eyes, one could catch a glimpse of the cold disdain he felt for his superior.

"But... yes, I suppose. That was our covenant, after all." The Regent remained indecisive, his mind unable to fully reconcile his fears. He looked at the Minister with suspicion, yet he nodded, forcing himself to be satisfied. He was, after all, one of the men who had placed this young noble in the seat of Minister of the Right. Of all the candidates, he had backed this one most fiercely-it had been the price of their secret arrangement.

"We shall place our hopes in the Saeki Princess's resolve," the Minister continued. "She is desperate to atone for the recent scandal. For the sake of her family, she will not shrink from any hardship. She would give her life if asked."

The threat was heavy. There were already those within the Princess's own bloodline who had been branded rebels. She and her kin were likely still trembling at the thought of being declared enemies of the state. It had made securing her oath a simple matter. In a truth, it was an act of mercy.

"If we relied on a house without fault, they would only grow arrogant later," the Minister said. "A house with a stain, however, will work with a frantic desperation, devoid of useless greed. By sharing this secret, we wash away the old grudges."

"Ha... hahaha. As expected of the Lord Minister of the Right. Truly diabolical." The Regent's dry laughter sounded like an attempt at admiration, but it was laced with a thin layer of mockery.

The Minister felt the slight and dismissed it. Being underestimated was a tactical advantage. That was the essence of a master strategist-to be the "Scheming Minister" while the world looked the other way.

"Even subversive elements have their uses," the Minister replied. "And the Minister of the Left? Does he suspect?"

"No. I have been meticulous. That old man is a thorn in the side when it comes to rules, but he remains blissfully ignorant. You may rest easy."

"I must insist on the utmost caution, for your sake as much as mine."

"Ha! That goes without saying..."

If this were ever exposed, the firestorm would consume the entire court. The Shirofuji family would be erased. But the true trade of a court noble was intrigue and survival, and Regent Shirofuji-no-miya Kakitake was a man who knew how to cover his tracks. He was a man steeped in corruption and greed, but his instinct for self-preservation could be trusted.

The young Minister knew the Regent had several high-grade talismans tucked in his sleeves, and that some invisible entity-a guard bound by cognitive-interference-lurked in his shadow. He had been briefed on it. Still, he felt a wave of disgust that the man would take such precautions even against his own co-conspirator.

"Your Excellency, if we remain sequestered like this much longer, the others will begin to talk," the Minister said. "It will hinder the state's affairs. Please, depart first. I shall follow shortly."

"I suppose you are right. But... might we consult once more before I set out?"

"If it serves to quiet your heart, I would be honored." The Minister of the Right gave a perfect, sweeping bow. He spoke the lies with practiced ease, watching the bloated man finally relax. The Regent hauled his heavy frame to his feet and shuffled away.

The Minister remained alone for a heartbeat, pulling a sutra from his pocket to begin a prayer for the success of his great ambition. He looked every bit the devout believer, casting his hopes upon the Buddha...

"Young Master. The prying eyes have gone. You can stop the act now."

The Minister ceased his chanting instantly, his face turning cold as the whisper hit his ear. He looked to his side. There, kneeling with practiced grace, was a woman with the ears of a Tanuki. It was Azuma Hibari, the former head of the Omnyouji Bureau. She had ostensibly retired, but here she was-a half-yokai

¹² dressed in the form-fitting gear of a shinobi. She stood there as if she had been part of the room's very architecture from the start.

"'Walls have ears and screens have eyes, yet the Tanuki's tail is never seen,' they say," the Minister remarked. "Your skill is as sharp as ever, Hibari. Though I really wish you'd stop calling me 'Young Master.'"

"Oh? How strange. You were always the little master of Tatsuzono who loved hide-and-seek. Have you forgotten?"

"Don't tease me. I was a brat back then-a literal little monster." The Minister of the Right was no longer a child. He brushed off the old woman's jab with a faint smile.

"The Young Master of Tatsuzono has grown into a man. A magnificent one at that." Hibari shook her head, her voice carrying a hint of genuine pride. Her behavior was far from the groveling expected in the palace, but it wasn't an insult. For a woman like her, this familiarity was the ultimate proof of loyalty.

"I am glad you are the one here," the Minister said. "The fewer who know the truth, the better. I can trust you."

This Tanuki woman had been the shadow behind the throne since the era of Emperor Gyokuro. Her mind was a vault of the nation's darkest secrets. That was exactly why she was the perfect ally. To her, this conspiracy was just one more secret in a lifetime of shadows.

"Is it because I have the weakness of the orphanage that I am so 'trustworthy'?"

"Hardly. I have no desire to be murdered in my sleep." If she wished it, she could slip into the manors of every high official in the land and open their veins before sunrise.

"You joke... and yet, you are doing something incredibly bold," Hibari said. "To think you would seize this moment."

"In the capital, my every breath is scrutinized. But the old capital? It is far from prying eyes. It is convenient."

"The other party... are they truly reliable?"

"If my judgment has failed me, I will pay for it with my life while I shield you."

"That is a comfort. But I am not the one who needs shielding... you understand that, don't you?"

"I understand," Hibari replied, bowing her head with a gravity that surpassed any courtly ritual.

On the first day of the Month of the Eldest Brother, following the final decree of the Emperor, the imperial envoys set out from the capital. Given the tragedies of recent years, the mission was unprecedented-sending the Minister of the Right himself was a sign of extreme devotion. Five hundred men marched in a solemn, glittering line.

It was the beginning of a journey built on a foundation of lies and vanity-the march toward a blasphemous sham.

---

Summary:

Hotoya Tamaki and Ako Murasaki are summoned by the Onitsuki heads to receive news of their appointment as imperial escorts. While Tamaki is anxious about her lack of status, Murasaki is overjoyed by the recognition of the Ako name. The conversation shifts to the suspicious absence of the Advisor and the Onitsuki daughters, hinting at clandestine movements.

Tamaki and Murasaki discuss their upcoming mission to the Old Capital as guards for the Imperial Envoy. A comedic mishap involving a carp ruins Murasaki's expensive kimono, followed by an explanation of the historical significance of the Old Capital and the Saioo princesses. Tamaki decides to request members of the Servant Corps to accompany them, valuing their battlefield bond over noble etiquette.

Murasaki and Tamaki prepare for a month-long journey to the Old Capital, enlisting the servant Magoroku to assist. Despite his visible dread regarding the destination, the two women find a moment of levity through shared hunger and laughter. Meanwhile, cold political machinations begin in the Imperial Palace between a young Minister and the Regent.

Regent Shirofuji-no-miya Kakitake meets with the Minister of the Right, Katsuyasu, to finalize a secret conspiracy involving a 'false festival' and the Saeki Princess. Despite the Regent's growing anxiety and cowardice, Katsuyasu maintains a cold, calculating composure, using the Regent's own fear for self-preservation to ensure his silence. After the Regent departs, Katsuyasu reveals his true ally, the Tanuki shinobi Azuma Hibari, as they prepare for a journey to the old capital to execute their hidden agenda.

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Trivia:

- The Onitsuki family is currently renting their main building from the Oumi family.

- The Minister of the Left seems to be intentionally pairing Tamaki and Murasaki to mitigate political friction.

- Hina has independently purchased a mountain, which is highly irregular for a noble daughter.

- The Advisor is allegedly helping the Tachibana family with security, but her true motives remain opaque.

- The Old Capital is nameless to protect it from the Hex.

- Empress Isuzu-hime was born in the region that became the Old Capital.

- Murasaki is a 'Princess' of the Ako household, implying high noble status.

- Tamaki struggles with feelings of unworthiness and lingers on a mysterious benefactor.

- The Servant Corps is socially stigmatized as 'unclean' or 'lower-class'.

- Magoroku's reaction to 'The Old Capital' suggests he has a dark history or traumatic memory associated with the place.

- Tamaki is carrying immense guilt regarding a previous event at the Juuyaku house involving a wolf friend and characters named Tomobe and Mari.

- Murasaki is the senior disciple despite potentially being younger, showcasing a hierarchy based on family standing or entry time.

- The Ako house prides itself on being 'Always on the Battlefield,' contrasting with the politically driven Onitsuki house.

- The Regent is the Emperor's grandfather, yet he is clearly intimidated by the younger Minister of the Right.

- The ritual seclusion (Mono-imi) is being used as a cover story for the conspiracy.

- Azuma Hibari was previously the head of the Omnyouji Bureau, making her a high-level expert in supernatural affairs.

- Katsuyasu is associated with 'Tatsuzono' and was referred to as a 'bratty little ogre' (Oni) in his youth.

- The Saeki Princess is being coerced into this plot because her family is already under suspicion of rebellion.

- The Regent is using invisible supernatural guards even when meeting his fellow conspirators

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Character Insight:

Tamaki is struggling with the weight of her sudden elevation, fearing it looks like she 'begged' for favors. Murasaki's loyalty to her family's martial legacy (Ako) outweighs her initial jealousy once her own honor is validated. Sumire displays a masterful ability to mask family tension with mundane 'motherly' complaints.

Murasaki shows a practical side by agreeing to bring the Servant Corps, despite her noble background. Tamaki exhibits deep-seated trauma and insecurity stemming from a past failure at Mount Anma.

Tamaki seeks training as a way to process her trauma and guilt, shifting her focus from past regret to present physical exertion. Murasaki shows a hidden compassionate side by caring for the blind sister of a low-ranking servant, though she masks it with pride.

Katsuyasu is revealed as a master manipulator who views even his superiors and family as 'subversive elements' to be used. His relationship with Hibari shows a deep, long-standing trust that contrasts with his superficial courtly interactions. Hibari, despite her retirement, remains a lethal asset, her loyalty rooted in a past bond rather than current politics.

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Behind the Scenes:

The use of the English pronoun 'He' in the raw text suggests a specific, perhaps fourth-wall-breaking or legendary identity central to the game world's mythos.

The use of 'Murasaki-root' for the kimono is a historical nod to the expensive and labor-intensive dyeing process in ancient Japan, fitting for a character named Murasaki.

The mention of Obon highlights a Buddhist-influenced world-building where the spirits of the dead are believed to return, tying into Murasaki's superstitious comment about the 'upstart's ghost'.

The author uses courtly titles like 'Udaijin' (Minister of the Right) and 'Sesshou' (Regent) to ground the story in a fantasy version of Heian-period Japan. The mention of 'Ezo' hints at external geopolitical conflicts or ethnic tensions being used as leverage in court politics.

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TL Notes:

1↵ Fuumi (文): A formal or archaic term for a letter, decree, or missive, often implying high social or official status.

2↵ 奉幣使 (Hooheishi): An imperial messenger sent to a shrine to offer heisoku (offerings).

3↵ 呪 (Noroi/Hex): A spiritual curse or malevolent magical influence.

4↵ 斎宮 (Saiguu): The palace of the Saioo, or the system of the consecrated princess itself.

5↵ 斎王 (Saioo): An unmarried female member of the Japanese Imperial Family sent to serve as High Priestess.

6↵ 神饗祭 (Shinkyoosai): A ritual banquet for the gods, often involving first-fruit offerings.

7↵ 奉公衆 (Hookooshu): Historically a direct military retinue; here translated as Servant Corps to reflect their social standing.

8↵ Mayoiga: Likely a reference to the 'Phantom House' of Japanese folklore, here functioning as a high-end supernatural carriage.

9↵ Obon: A Japanese Buddhist custom for honoring the spirits of one's ancestors.

10↵ Minister of the Right (Udaijin): One of the highest positions in the Heian-style Ritsuryō government system.

11↵ Mono-imi (物忌): A period of ritual abstinence or seclusion in Japanese Shinto and court traditions to avoid ritual impurity or bad luck.

12↵ Youkai (妖怪): Supernatural monsters, spirits, or demons in Japanese folklore; in this context, Hibari is a 'han-you' or half-youkai.