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thenightgazer · 5 years

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The Finding of Almagest

The elder son of Sparda wants to seek solitude inside a small local library. He finds himself trapped in an insightful conversation with the librarian as they share the stories of the stars.

(A/N) : My first DMC fanfiction! Took me long enough to finally made it. English isn’t my native language, so feel free to send me private message if you find grammatical errors! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the journey of our favourite brooding devil and his friendship with a local librarian! xD

Special tags : @queenmuzz for encouraging me to finish this fic❤ @voldemortimaginarynose96 for her nonstop support 🍫 and @drusoona for bombing me with Vergil screenshots! 💜

You can read this fic on my AO3

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“The meeting of two personalties is like the contact of two chemical substances, if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”

-Carl Gustav Jung

For a second in eternity, Vergil could finally rest his head between the familiar smell of stack of old books.

He just finished his latest mission; a pack of Empusas attacked a local church and brutally murdered the reverend and most of the nuns.

When Dante received the call, he casually laughed and said, ‘That sounds like a wicked slasher horror movie!’. Nonetheless, the owner of Devil May Cry still sent Vergil to do the mundane mission, much to his annoyance. The church paid him and that’s good enough. Vergil never really agreed about demon hunting business since the brothers came back from Underworld, mainly because his brother’s incapability of running the business neatly but that’s the only best thing they could do to make a living— a normal one.

Normal life, huh?

The words already lost its meaning since he was attacked in the graveyard when he was eight years old.

But now he has a second chance— a family to reunite. For that reason, Vergil decided to throw away his pride and stubbornness to make things right. In order to do that, first, no more raising or opening something leading to Hell for the sake of power.

Second, catching up his long-lost time to bond with his son, Nero.

For the love of Sparda, the hybrid demon tries his best to be a proper, competent father of a twenty-something grown man with anger and abandonment issues, which is challenging as much as it’s…. unbelievably exhausting. Not that he hated their bonding moments. It just sometimes confuses Vergil, this humanity contexts. He still has a lot to learn and catch up.

Third, try his best to make a normal life.

Which is one of the reasons why he ended up in this small, rustic local library in the town.

If anything about living as a human that could make Vergil at least enjoy his humanity, that would be a book to read. He is still and always an avid reader, even though there are not much books in the Underworld or Mundus curse was powerful enough to made him senseless about anything but The Prince of Darkness orders.

Before the memories of his time as Nelo Angelo stings his head again, he chooses to focus on his reading.

There is one larger library in the town, but this library suits him best. It doesn’t have too many visitors, much to Vergil’s benefit because he appreciates seclusion. He likes this place particularly because the library has rare collections. Perhaps this place is like a heaven on Earth for Vergil, now as he reads a rare edition of Paradise Lost.

His mother was the one who introduced him to literature, but Vergil’s love for reading bloomed since he meet the Redgrave City librarian— the same man who gave him William Blake’s anthology, which is now Nero’s possession.

A subtle smirk curves in Vergil lips, remembering how angry and nervous his son when Vergil came back from Hell and Nero wanted to return the book. But Vergil declined, said that it belongs to Nero now and to take care of it with honour. Instead of thanking his father, the boy challenged him for another duel.

You said you won’t lose next time, old man, Nero had said to him.

And of course, that time, Vergil won. Which lead to another demand of challenges from his wayward son.

“Cuppa?”

The sound of a woman distracted Vergil.

Another best feature from this library; they serve free-refill coffee. The best coffee Vergil ever tasted since his return from Hell. The fact that the library doesn’t often have visitors might be the reason why they willingly serve free drinks to attract more visitors.

“Thank you,” Vergil said as the woman refills Vergil’s cup.

“You’re welcome,” the woman replies in polite smile.

She always has that kind of smile. Vergil noticed it since his first visit. Always speaks in a-matter-of-fact tone with pleasant but business-only smile. She almost never speak unless necessary.

Dante had brought him fake ID and licenses from Morrison. Vergil isn’t obnoxious enough to not aware about human ways of bureucracy. His time as V taught him a little too much about it. It just hard for him to believe that Dante made him an obviously fake driving license while he possessed the Yamato, which is more convenient than any vehicles.

“At least,” Dante mocked. “It’s way better than your previous not-so-clever alias.”

Which resulted in another jabbing and broken properties.

What a way to show brotherly love.

Luckily, the younger twin was considerate enough to keep Vergil’s original name at those ID cards, even though it irritates Vergil because the main trouble of having an ID is that your identity would easily revealed. Vergil doesn’t need anyone knows that he’s son of Sparda. That legacy always left him more troubles.

So when the librarian lady asked his name to register his library member three months ago, Vergil, much to his dismay, showed her his fake citizen ID.

“Vergil?” she repeated his name.

“Correct.”

She looked at him suspiciously, “Just Vergil?”

“Yes.” He sensed that the librarian didn’t believe him. He would’ve just go and never return if she declined him, but she just shrugged and wrote his name in her notebook.

“Please wait for a moment,” she smiled while walking to back office.

Three minutes later she brought him his library ID card.

“Two weeks for returning the books. No more than three books to borrow for a week. Rare collections are for read here only. We sell secondhand books too— right there before the reading corners,” she pointed to the bookshelves which has ‘FOR SALE’ sign. “Please contact me if you need some help for searching books or recommendation.”

She handed him his ID card which Vergil accepted.

“Happy reading, Mr Publius Vergilius Maro.”

Not that old joke again, he lamented his parent’s choice of name. How dare this woman-!

“Pardon my rudeness,” she apologized in furtive manner. “The name was just the first thing popped into my head when I heard your name. I mean no offense at all, sir.”

Vergil thought probably she was just one of those people who wants to make some meaningless conversation. Or she was just always like that to new customer to break the ice. But in truth, he was intrigued by her audacity to tell him a joke. He, Vergil, whose entire demeanour screams stay back or die. Moreover, she still able to stayed calm and gave him apologizing smile. But her nervous fingers spoke different meaning, like it begged him to end her misery of being intimidated by his infamous deadly glare.

“None had taken,” he finally said, remembered to show some politeness. A devil he might be, but he’s a man with courtesy. “Thank you for your assistance, Librarian.”

She nodded politely and gave him final apologizing smile before she returned to her work and Vergil walked to his reading corner.

The two has never really spoken since then. Just her offer of a cup of coffee and him thanking her. He sometimes observes her talking with another customers, giving some book recommendations to them, and he think her choices of book are quite impressive. It took him almost three months to realized that this woman is unbelievably brilliant. Her love of books is tangible, as shown when she cleans the bookshelves, organizing books, the way she hands a book to a customer and her anger when her co-worker unintentionally scratched the book.

Somehow it reminded him with the Redgrave librarian. The man who taught him to cherish the splendor of the books.

He turns his attention to a passage from Paradise Lost :

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…

Such a truth spoken by Satan.

The deeper Vergil digs inside his head, the more he doesn’t want to know what happened in the depth of his memories. His familiars might had gone, but it doesn’t mean he is unbothered with his own dark side of his mind. Ever since his first slumber in Devil May Cry after his arrival from the Underworld, he only slept for no more than a half an hour. His sleep was dreamless, followed with the instinct to stay awake like he used to be in the Underworld. He ended up restless for the rest of the night. Sometimes he would read Dante’s little collection of books, anything which doesn’t include inappropriate contents. He just want to distract his unsettling memories, mostly about his regrets and unanswered questions from the past.

He didn’t know where was that librarian after demons attacked Sparda Manor. Had he survived? He wouldn’t know for sure. He didn’t have time to think about it that time. He needed to save his mother and brother, but instead he was left—

Stop, he urges himself. Mother tried to save me too.

Vergil doesn’t even realized he gripped his book a bit too hard.

Maybe I need something lighter to read.

He close the book and stand up to return the book to its shelf. He never moved too far from his favourite reading corner for an introverted man like him; the farthest corner between rare collection bookshelves. Here he could read in peace, musing without any interferences except the librarian’s offer of coffee, which he eventually get used to.

“Hello again, Mr Vergil,”

There she is, standing on the ladder and organizing books. She barely sees Vergil’s figure, but it’s easy for her to recognize the presence of the only rare collection’s visitor, who is none other than Vergil himself. She knows other visitors would leave this corner immediately because of Vergil’s intimidating demeanor. None of them would stay to read or just searching for book.

Vergil returns the book to its place. His icy eyes sneakily lingers to the figure of the librarian. She looks busy storing the books, humming a song which Vergil doesn’t recognize.

“Done with Milton already?” she asks.

How did she know?

“You looked rather enjoy it before I offered you to refill your cup,” she continues. “It makes me feel guilty, as if my presence ruined your mood.”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Vergil turns his sight to another row of bookshelf. And more importantly, why doesn’t she just shut her mouth?

She finishes her organizing and starts to climb down from the stair. Vergil could not help but admiring the way she seems pleased with her job. She cleans her hand with a napkin, folding it and put it back inside the pocket of her brown midi skirt. She suddenly turns her attention to Vergil, who is quickly pulling away his gaze, pretending to be busy searching for book.

“May I give you some recommendations?” she offers with careful and awkward gesture, like she’s afraid she would disturb the menacing man in front of her.

Despite his annoyance of her presence, he remembers her passion of books. He noted her excellent choices of book. She seems reliable enough. Maybe she really could help.

“At the current given moment, I prefer to read something lighter, but enough to give me an insight.” Vergil answers dismissively. “Not necessarily fiction, actually.”

A little challenge to show your competency.

The librarian goes silent for a moment. Her eyes wander to the bookshelves. There, Vergil silently notice, that the librarian always has that kind of eyes; a pair of beautiful brown eyes, but a blank, void stare.

The truth? Her eyes slightly bothers him. Every humans, even demons, always has something to tell from their eyes. But the ones that librarian possess doesn’t tell him even a thing.

“Right!” she exclaims, pointing at a book in the row next to Vergil. “How much do you know about astronomy?”

“Beg your pardon?” The hybrid couldn’t believe what he just heard as he turns around to face the librarian.

“Astronomy. A branch of science that studies celestial—“

“I am fully aware of what astronomy is,” Vergil declares. “All of those books, why do you choose astronomy?”

“Because,” she takes the book she pointed before. “You seem to enjoy ancient texts. Your top borrowed books were all classics. You see, we don’t have many visitors and it’s noticeable that you’re the only person who consistently lingers at this section. It’s not hard to tell that you fancy this section the most. I thought classics and ancient knowledges would suit you the best. Therefore…” she shows him the book she recommended. “You might like Almagest.”

Almagest. Vergil remembers the copy of that book in Sparda’s private room in the Manor. He didn’t really paid attention to that book, although he did actually pick up that book and observe it delinquently rather than taking it seriously. He was still a child after all. He didn’t even think about reading it until now.

He receives the hardcover book from the librarian’s hands and observes the book. His fingers flip the pages carefully.

“Almagest is one of the most influential text all the time. The very source of ancient Greek astronomy that was accepted for more than 1000 years and becomes one of the basis of modern astronomy. Unfortunately, we don’t have the original version of Almagest… but the one you read now contains both the original and translated texts. You won’t find any difficulty to read it, just in case you’re not familiar with ancient Greek. The book also contains star catalog. Ptolemy’s catalog contains about 1022 stars, including the stars positions arranged into 48 constellations. The Ptolemaic constellation… as we know it in the present. Andromeda, Ursa Major, Sagittarius…” the librarian explains while observing Vergil’s behaviour cautiously, looking for some approving signal from the hybrid. “A rather quite insightful reading, don’t you think?”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Vergil sternly states. His eyes still fixates to the book, studying the graphs and tables, admiring the beauty of ancient Greek text and the planetary model. “Although, indeed, quite like a page-turner for stargazer.“

“I believe that astronomy is more than mere stargazing,” the librarian continues. Her tone is almost enthusiastic. “It is concerned with the formation and development of the universe itself. The universe always expanding, getting further from us while we are still standing here, wondering what happened outside the Earth…”

Vergil glances at her. The librarian’s eyes scanning through the books, but she seems out of the place. Caught in her own muse. The fusion of the magnificence of bookshelves and the librarian’s state of wonder somehow makes her look ethereal.

She looked pale, mysterious—like a lily, drowned, under water.

“There is Demon World,” Vergil sighs, closing the book in satisfied gesture. “The one human still trying to figure out in which system this world could be.”

“Oh, I wonder that too!” she quickly agrees. “They published a lot of researches about that. None of them actually make sense, more like a pseudo-science—Oh, pardon my twaddles! Are you going to borrow that book or should I recommend another one?”

Vergil shake his head, “This will do. Thank you for your recommendation.”

The librarian sighs in relief, “Anytime, Mr Vergil. I shall continue my work then.”

There it is again. The blank stare. The unsettling mix of pretty smile and void eyes. Something is off, but what? What does it means? She is nothing but a mere human. Why am I troubled for something nonsensical like the voidness of her eyes?

Yet he knows that if she turns her back and leaving him, he would never get his answer.

“On second thought, Librarian.”

The librarian tilts her head, “You changed your mind already?”

“On the contrary. I need some enlightment about Almagest and your knowledges regarding astronomy,” Such a buffoon, Vergil Sparda. “I believe your help will suffice.”

The librarian seems pleased with Vergil’s request. She nods in excitement, happy that someone needs her help and ideas, “Certainly.”

She excuses herself to get more coffee for both of them whilst Vergil returns to his usual desk and rest his head, processing to clear his brain from any irrelevant informations when suddenly a glimpse of his experience as V comes up.

This life’s dim windows of the soul

Distorts the heavens from pole to pole

And leads you to believe a lie

When you see with, not through, the eye.

There was a time when he, as V, memorized that poem at the center of Redgrave City. He was exterminating demons along with his familiars. He did his best to save any last survivors as much as he can. Between his own survival agenda and his unnatural obsession to defeat Dante, he truly realized the tremendous gravity of crime he did all this time for his pursuit of power. All he wanted that time was just a chance of redemption. He saved the humans compulsively, again and again. Like he would never get atonement at all.

That was the time he learnt that every humans and demons has stories in their eyes. Whether it’s hunger, glutton, joy, fear, sadness, painful memories. It was all reflected in the eyes. Their desires were always transparent like an open book. Even his mother once said that eyes are the window of the soul. Vergil used this wisdom to analyze his enemies. To find out their true intention. But at that time, as V, he used the knowledge to understand humanity and self-introspection. To accept his own emotions and weaknesses.

It all make sense now why the librarian’s existence intrigues Vergil.

It’s her eyes, Vergil contemplates. Ones that didn't tell me its stories.

He quickly lifts his head when he hears the little steps of the librarian approaching him.

“I am sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologizes while placing a tray of pot of coffee and a book on the desk, careful not to place it too close to the Almagest. She fills their cups calmly, enjoying the coffee’s delightful smell. Though Vergil noticed her awkwardness for being around him.

It’s clear that the librarian feels a degree of burden from accepting the challenge from this mysterious, brooding tall man who visits the library almost every week. She’s aware of how intelligent this man could be. How he would challenge her intellect and make her arguments invalid. Even his name is enough to convince her that the man in front of her will be her most peculiar customer to handle.

However, their discussion regarding Almagest is running smoothly. Though not an expert of astronomy herself, she’s capable of explaining Vergil’s questions regarding the Almagest and astronomical trivias. Her eyes might not tell him anything, but he can sense her true passion in astronomy. She doesn’t speak unless Vergil ask her something he’s not quite understand. He notices the librarian silently reads The Fall of the House of Usher. She shows no difficulty switching her reading and tag along with their discussion.

“I am sure not an expert of Almagest, but I hope I can still give you some enlightment,” says the librarian before she sips her coffee.

“You already are,” Vergil admits. He scans Ptolemy’s equant model and memorizing the librarian’s explanation. From all chapters of the book, he found the star catalogue to be the most interesting part.

Young Vergil was astonished with the stars. Back to his childhood at Sparda Manor, when the night falls, the twins used to sneak out from their bedroom and climb the roof to stargazing. They were too young to truly acknowledged the beauty of the night sky, but Vergil enjoyed that moment. It was hard to find the right time to get along with Dante and made him sit still without bugging him any further. Dante would occasionally pointed on something in the sky, pretending he saw a meteor. Vergil would replied with sarcastic remarks as always, saying that he acts foolish or something. Then it would lead to another brotherly fight.

“The star catalogue is certainly the most enticing part of the book,” Vergil mutters, sipping his coffee as he inspects Ptolemy’s star chart.

“Indeed. The star map is ancestral to the modern system of constellations. Now there is another 40 officially recorgnized constellations and two trillions galaxies.”

The librarian adds new informations for Vergil, including the brightest stars of the constellations and best months to find it. He returns the favour by telling her more details about Greek mythology, which is inseparable with Ptolemy’s star mapping.

“It seems to me that ancient Greek gods has a fancy preference to placed their fallen heroes in the sky, if not, curse them into something ridiculous,” the librarian contemplates.

“Not all heroes,” Vergil refutes. “Cassiopeia mocked the Gods by boasting her daughter being more beautiful than all the Nereids. She was chained in her own throne as her punishment. Then Poseidon condemned her to circle the celestial pole forever.”

“More like a good example of what being a narcissistic could do rather than a tribute for her.” She mumbles. “It’s interesting to note that both Cassiopeia constellation and narcissistics have a similar trait.”

“Which is?”

“They are all easily spotted and visible all around the year.”

Vergil tries so hard not to burst in laugh. “Are there any constellations visible all the year aside from Cassiopeia?”

“There are Draco, Cepheus, Ursa Major and… Ursa Minor. There,” She points the picture of four constellations. “Together with Cassiopeia, they are circumpolar constellations of northern sky. These constellations circling Polaris, the brightest star of Ursa Minor. Commonly known as The North Pole Star. The big bear Ursa Major is the largest northern constellation. It also contains the most prominent asterism in the night sky, oftenly confused for the constellation itself. Cassiopeia is always easily recognized for its clear W shape, like she was being chained on her throne as you mentioned it earlier. While her husband and worst father ever to sacrificed his daughter to sea monster, Cepheus, is not widely known in spite of its size. Cepheus and Draco are two of the largest constellations in the sky but their stars are not as prominent as Ursa Major.”

“And these constellations remain invisible from southern locations?”

“Sadly, yes. But the south has its circumpolar constellations too. There are Centaurus, Carina, and Crux. You won’t find Carina and Crux in the Almagest. It was Argo Navis before French astronomer de Lacaille divided it into the three smaller constellations; Carina, Puppis, and Vela. As for the Crux, it was originally considered to be a part of the Centaurus before 1679, and the smallest of 88 constellations, if I’m not mistaken…”

“If you are not mistaken.” Vergil emphasises sarcastically.

“Which means I am certain that I mentioned it right.” she evades.

The librarian tries her best to not let her laughter comes out when she notices Vergil’s permanent frown gets more crumpled.

The librarian seems to enjoy driving the half-devil to the edge with her dry wit. She finds it funny to see Vergil grunts in annoyance, or his slightly amused grin whenever she said something peculiar. Maybe because the man in front of her right now is always covered by mysterious cloud. That his face is always solemn, imperceptible. He looks sullen, like he never laughed for his entire life. He really needs a bloody lot of kips, she thinks, taking note to Vergil’s darkened eyebags as she compares with her own eyebags, which she thought were quite dark already.

She was going to continue her explanation regarding the southern circumpolar constellations before an unexpected thought spills out from her mouth, “You are haunted, Mr Vergil.”

The atmospheres shifts abruptly. The hybrid’s shoulders stiffens as he glares to the librarian as a warning to not cross the line. His frightening stare sent chills down to the librarian’s spine that she almost choked on her own coffee.

“What’s with the sudden impudent commentary of yours, Librarian?” Vergil doesn’t try to hide his vexation.

“Uh… well…” the librarian chuckled nervously as she hides her face behind her novel, shielding herself from Vergil’s intimidating glare. “You always look like you are either staring to nothing or focus on your book. There is no in-between.”

“You’d be disappointed to know the fact that a lot of people do that. Every time.”

“True,” she agrees. “But you are different. You have the eyes of a man who still try to adjust the new world. Most of people are haunted by the past… but you are haunted by the present.”

She shut her mouth almost immediately, realizing Vergil does nothing but giving her threatening look to stop analyzing him. It was her only detriment; to be innocently curious about everything, silently observing and analyzing things. Most of her ideas are boxed inside her head. She never said it out loud. But this time she couldn’t help but spilling her thoughts. That she finds Vergil interesting.

“I will forgive your impertinence,” the blue demon closes the book and shifts his position to relax his previously tensed shoulders. “Only if you explain why do you think I’m haunted by the present.”

“Well,” she grins and bluntly explains, “There are two kinds of people who willingly to spend the rest of the day staying here; a keen of literature or a misanthrope. I dare say you are both, but I think you are here because you are overwhelmed with the outside world. You are adjusting something you had never experienced before. That adjustment, whatever it is, haunts you. It confuses you, what happens now and how you would react about it. Like the moment when you were unfamiliar with our registrative custom, which was odd because you looked like it was your first time registering something. Honestly? I thought you were making up your name. You looked terribly confused back then, as if you didn’t recognize your own name. You seems… detached from reality.”

I must not let my guard down anymore, Vergil makes a mental note as he feels defeated, even though he won’t admit that everything she said was the truth.

“Pause,” The librarian let out a gasp as she notices Vergil’s inconvenience, “Is it really okay if I continue? I don’t like being psychoanalyzed and I’m completely understand if you want me to stop.”

“You are too late for that. You already talk a little too much.”

“But you said you will forgive me only if I keep talking!”

“If you explain your impertinence.. not chattering like a mockingbird.”

“That’s harsh! Besides, how could I explain if I am not allowed to keep talking?”

I’m done playing words with this woman, Vergil slowly growls in frustration. He never thought that having conversation with a human could be this infuriating. “Then let’s settle the matter. Tell me your thoughts and be done with it.”

“Fair enough,” she seems satisfied, enjoying Vergil’s defeat and curiousity. “For the record, you are the one who asked me to talk. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Where was I…? Oh, yes, detached from reality. You speak about humans differently. You treated your surroundings like a bystander. Like you distinguish yourself from reality. It make sense, actually. To understand something, we must separate ourselves from it.”

“I get your point.”

The librarian looks puzzled, “Did you?”

“Of course.”

“Was that mean I was right about you?”

“Even if you are right, I won’t bother to tell you.”

“No… it just…” she taps her fingers slowly. “It’s hard for me to express my point of view, particularly to strangers. Moreover, to make them understand.”

“You’ve done well to the customers.”

“That was different. It’s for business.” She waves her hand nonchalantly. “My point is, maybe this library is the right place for you to adjust yourself. I don’t have any slightest ideas of what you’ve been through, but you deserve to find your peace. Other customers will find you too scary that they will leave this section as fast as they can—I mean, look at yourself! But what I see is just… a man who wants a little solitude from this noisy world. And I believe everyone deserves their own place in the sky… like the stars. No matter how insignificant they feel about themselves.”

The elder son of Sparda found himself stunned by her words. He never thought a human could possess the ability to see people in such illuminating way. She doesn’t flatter nor mock him, just simply stated her intuitive opinions about him. She but a stranger, seeing right through his psyche. The same odd woman who is now obliviously reading her novel like she had already forgotten of what she said earlier.

“You saw a lot, Librarian. That’s an exceptional gift.”

“Compulsive observation isn’t counted as exceptional gift. More like a curse, but thank you. Of course I could be wrong. Maybe you are just another introvert bloke who’s happened to passed by and read something here. Who knows?”

They now surrounded by a soothing silence. Both of them are preoccupied with their own thoughts. Vergil contemplates the librarian’s words about his adjustment with the present. He never really paid attention about that, but it turns out to be the very reason why he still fear any kind of human contacts. He lost so many years that he almost forgot how it is to be alive.

When he saw Dante and Nero for the first after he re-emerged, he couldn’t believe that everything around him was real. That everything was not a mere illusion anymore. He spent mindless and controlled under Mundus’s cruel illusion for years that the line between the real and the fake were blurring. He was blind and chained. Far too long that his soul was decayed.

And to think he still has a chance to make things right… to be truly alive in the present…

Yet there is still one thing that holds him back. There is a part of him which screaming in agony, searching for validity of his confusing emotions. A part which he hides it deep in his mind palace. The one he refuses to share. For he is afraid that he won’t get any enlightment. That he could be the old Vergil who was obsessed with power. The part that granted him moral codes and compassion.

His doubt on his humanity.

“I used to hate humans,” Vergil finally confesses. “I used to think that they are all weak and useless, and I loathed myself for being a part of human.”

The librarian gives him a curious look, her lips curves into a playful smile, “You stop hating them now? Why, you are right about them anyway.”

The hybrid cannot hold his surprise. The lady in front of him… a mortal human, confirmed Vergil’s confession with ease. As if she herself isn’t human. But that can’t be true, you are a human, right? Vergil tries so hard to not bluntly asking something obvious which could make him look like an imbecile. She doesn’t seem surprised at all by Vergil’s unusual confession.

“It might sounds strange, for I myself a human. But you are right about humans. I could understand why you hated them. Easily corrupted and manipulated, they destroy themselves for something meaningless. But humans are truly fascinating being.”

“Fascinating being…” Vergil murmurs dismissively.

“I think you know it as well as me,” she peeks over her book to meet Vergil’s intimidating, yet calming gaze. “They stand on the grey zone. They are unpredictable, complex being. While most demons only want power and human flesh to consume, humans only desire self-actualization. To be a better version of themselves. That could lead them in many ways. To do things differently. Isn’t that interesting, to think that all the humans in this world are never really the exact same individual? Humans are unique, Mr Vergil. Each of them. Their ability to endure is transcendent.”

“Humans are selfish being.” Vergil objects. “Their desire of self-actualization is misleading. Some humans want to be demon so much that they become something worse than the demon itself.” Including my former self. “They crave for something more. Their greed is boundless.”

“Indeed,” she admits. “I won’t defend that fact. Humans are biologically and inherently selfish. The same goes with human emotions. Though oftenly fallacious, it’s important for human survival…”

“Sounds like a creature of flaw.”

“No one’s perfect, Mr Vergil. Everyone’s flawed. “ the librarian took notice of skepticism in Vergil’s statement. “Yet you stop hating humanity.”

“I try to embrace the fact that I’m part of humanity.”

“Why?”

“… because I have a family to protect.”

“There,” she gives him understanding wink. “Unlike demons, humans have connection to each other called compassion. Their instinct to protect their beloved ones. Their need of security and sense of belonging. Without all of it, humans would ended up just like beasts. That’s what distiguished us from demons. But not all demons. They said Dark Knight Sparda fought for humanity and became a human as well. It seems to me that every humans and demons have choice to be the better or the worst version of theirselves… to be a demon, to be a human… to conquer or to protect.”

“Without strength, you cannot protect anything,” Vergil adds, more like talking to himself.

“Fine word, Mr Vergil.”

“That’s what happens when you’re responsible for lives other than your own.”

“Which means you are not fighting alone. You have someone to protect you.”

You’re gonna need some help… and someone to keep an eye on you, Dante’s voice echoed inside Vergil's head. Had Vergil dismissed him, he would ended up alone again in the Underworld. The fact that Dante was willingly throw himself to join Vergil made him feel secure. That he’s protected.

Why did it take him so long to realise that he was always saved by humanity?

“Ah… that remind me of something…” The librarian seems out of place again. Her unusual pale face is suddenly turns deadpan. But that statement just left hanging in the air as the librarian went back from her reverie. Leaving a trace of voidness in her eyes.

“Your eyes, librarian,” Vergil addresses after he saw the voidness again. “Those eyes spoke nothing.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve seen thousands stories behind every eyes.” The hybrid knocks his fingers on the Almagest as he feels the urge to tell her the truth. That he was enchanted (or bothered?) by her unsettling eyes. “But yours telling me nothing.”

“Oh… well, what am I supposed to do with that information?” she closes her book abruptly, startled by the statement. “They said eyes are the window of the soul, am I right? Was that mean I have no soul?”

“On the contrary,” Vergil disproves. “You have a wanderer soul. A mind of philosopher.”

She flustered as she breaks her eye contact with Vergil. “Well… thank you?”

“You are welcome.” he says softly. “It just… nevermind. Forget everything I said about your eyes. I must have mistook it for something else.”

He lied, of course. His intuition never betrayed him. There’ll be another time, Vergil thought, realizing it’s futile to contend with the librarian. This was their first real conversation since their encounter three months ago and both of them need some time to open up. He won’t rush it. Not that now he really wanted to at least make an acquaintance with a normal human. Moreover, the one who could keep up with his mind and antics,

The librarian seems uncomfortable with Vergil’s appraisal. It was odd, since she thought Vergil isn’t the kind of person who would’ve easily praise someone. Little does she know that Vergil would only compliments people who’s worth his time and energy. She avoids Vergil’s inquisitive eyes, tapping her wristwatch, ”I hate to end our discussion, but apparently we’re closed.”

Vergil surveys at the winter sky that soon will turn into dark, velvet blue from the window beside his desk, “Very well then.”

“You may borrow it as long as you want,” the librarian points at the Almagest as she cleans the empty cups.

“Would that be okay for you?” Vergil doubtly glances at the book.

“Just please don’t report me to Mr Steiner,” she chuckles when she mentioned the library’s owner. Vergil remembers an old man and his occasional visits to the library and checking notes at receptionist table. “A kind one, that man, but his wrath was horrendous.”

“Won’t your colleague complain about this?”

“Nate? He’s off duty today. Worry not, he rarely checks Rare Section.” She stands up, about to lift her tray. “Oh, and please take a great care of it. I’d lose all of my wages if you somehow decided to broke it.”

“I won’t,” he reassures. “Although it is not wise to trust a stranger, Librarian.”

“Righty-ho,” she winks mischievously. “Yet I believe this stranger will keep his words.”

“And how would this stranger keep his words if he doesn’t even know the name of the very person who made him promised?”

“Ah… Mr Vergil… I did mentioned my name in our earlier discussion!” she giggles as she grips her tray in excitement. “But yes, I didn’t precisely tell you that it was my name.”

“I don’t like riddles.”

“Ha! Then let’s play a riddle, shall we? It should be easy if you listened carefully to my explanations regarding constellations!”

It is surely futile to contend with this peculiar woman. As much as he dislikes to accept the challenge, he ultimately agreed to prove his competency. He won’t lose to everyone, let alone this scallywag librarian. He folds his hands on the chest as she prepares to give him clues :

“I am visible in the Northern and Southern hemispheres

I am prominent in the summer night sky

I belong to the Hercules family of constellations

My closest neighbour constellation is Cygnus

The meteor shower appears annually in April

I have one of the brightest star in the sky.”

The hybrid goes silent, recalling his recent discussion with the librarian. He remembers the librarian briefly mentioned this constellation— a small constellation, but its brightest star is the fifth brightest star in the sky…

The process of recall also brings him to the second passage of Georgics, which originally was a Greek tale of tragic story between a musician who attempted to retrieving his dead lover from the Underworld. He managed to get through all of the obstacles only by the play of his music instrument and softened the heart of Hades, the ruler of the Underworld.

This pattern of memories immediately leads him to his answer.

“You are heavily associated with the musician Orpheus, who took his own life after his failure to ressurect Eurydice, his beloved wife. Then Zeus placed you, Orpheus’s most cherished instrument, amongst the stars,” Vergil smiles in victory. “The lyre… Lyra.”

Lyra smiles slyly, “Touché, Mr Vergil.”

“Just Vergil is fine.”

“Very well then, Vergil.”

Lyra excuses herself to wash the cups, but Vergil insists to follow her to receptionist table. He waits her to finish the washing and packing her belongings while reading the motions of Venus and Mars from the Almagest. He occasionally asks her something concerning the part he read on and she’ll answer his questions from her office.

“Your choice of word was interesting, Vergil.” Lyra shouts while drying the cups.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said Orpheus took his own life,” she recites. “But let say God doesn’t exist, then it’s absurd to say that he took his own life. Taking it from who? If his life was truly his…”

The hybrid demon sighs frustratedly, “It’s a figure of speech. Do you always take things too literally?”

“Blimey, Vergil. I was just joking!” the librarian appears in the office doorway as she wears her gloves. Her blue oversized sweater is now covered with black babydoll coat. Vergil makes a mental note of her elegant, classy appearance as the two of them heading out of the library. Clearly she is a type of person who prioritize comfort in clothing rather than fashion, but she is nonetheless still an attractive woman.

“Your whimsical sense of humour could drive one to insanity,” he remarks, but there is no offensive tone in his voice. He does enjoy her quirky humour, though he won’t admit it.

“Oh, Vergil…” Lyra smiles mysteriously while locking the entrance door. “You have no idea what insanity is.”

Or maybe I do have the idea.

They continue their conversation until they walk pass the crowd of the street. As the conversation goes on, Vergil mentally noted Lyra’s favourites and her quirks; she has too many favourite books, but she will always re-read The Hound of Baskerville and The Silence of the Lambs. Vergil was never stand too close from her to notice her slight limp on her right leg— too subtle that normal human eyes couldn’t spot it. He wonders how she got that, but he doesn’t ask. Instead he tells her his favourites and that he prefers classics, but he’s open for something new.

“Wait a second.”

Lyra jogs to a patch of blooming snowdrops as they’re passing a playground. She picks the flower, making a small bouquet from it, and quickly returns to Vergil, who’s waiting for her in confusion.

“Galanthus nivalis,” she hands him the bouquet. “They say snowdrop represents a friend in adversity.”

“Also consolation and hope,” Vergil adds. He touches the petals with one of his gloveless finger delicately, as he recalls the language of flowers his mother taught him once. The twins were regularly helped their mother gardening as she told them the story behind every flowers.

Lyra lifts her eyebrows, “Never thought you’d familiar with floriography.”

“As a librarian, I think you know it better than me to not judge a book by its cover.”

“You got a point there," she scans through the snowdrops on Vergil’s firm hand. “My mother once told me, if I find myself lost, pick flowers.”

“That was an exquisite wisdom.”

“It is,” she grins. “That’s why I picked you these snowdrops. You seem lost. You should start picking more flowers.”

“Only if I lose myself,” Vergil pledges. “At the moment, I think I already have my answers. You’ve been very helpful.”

“No worries,“ Lyra continues her walk before she turns her back to Vergil again. “I’ll take my leave here. It was a pleasure to meet you, Vergil.”

The hybrid doesn’t respond. He doesn’t like the idea of her walking all alone in dark alleys. There is a part of him which urging him to escort her until she’s safely arrived at her house. The world is full of danger. It could be anything; demons, thieves, serial killers, even natural disasters. “I could… you know… escort you home.” Vergil almost bite his lips, curse himself for his reckless offer.

Lyra shake her head, although she noticed the visible concern from the man who stand still in front of her. “It’s very kind of you to offer me escortion, but I still have to stop by my friend’s house.”

Her face determines her reluctance to be escorted that Vergil couldn’t find better excuse, “If you say so.”

"Well… normally I would say ‘goodbye’ to strangers because I don’t plan to meet them again. But this time I’ll say ‘auf Wiedersehen’, means ‘until we see each other again’”.

“Bold of you to assume that we will see each other again.”

“As a librarian, I have a duty to remind you that you still have a book to return.”

Vergil couldn’t help but chuckles as he’s amused with her perfect comeback. Her laughter is strong enough to make Vergil reciting a poem that revolved around his head regarding her presence :

“The sun descending in the west

The evening star does shine

The birds are silent in their nest

And I must seek for mine.

The moon, like a flower,

In heaven’s high bower,

With silent delight

Sits and smiles on the night.”

The librarian stands speechless. The pupil of her eyes dilates in awestruck, not aware of the hybrid’s delicacy of making those void eyes now full in adoration.

“That was… splendid.” she blurts. “I’ve heard that somewhere… Shakespeare? Wordsworth? Oh, no no no… hmm… Blake?”

She smiles in victory as Vergil gives her a confirmation nod. She remembered Vergil’s book list, “Your favourite, of course.”

“Do me a favour,” Vergil says seriously. “Be very careful on your way back home. Our world is a savage world.”

“Of course.“ She nods in beam. “Though I assure you, I’m penniless and too troublesome to be kidnapped.”

“I can see that.“

Lyra waves her hand playfully as she takes her leave, “Auf Wiedersehen, Publius Vergilius Maro.”

The blue demon couldn’t help but rolls his eyes.

“Word of advice, Vergil,” she shouts before she disappears into the crowd of the boulevard. “Ad astra per aspera.”

To the stars through difficulties. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Vergil waits until he can’t see Lyra’s figure anymore. He somewhat feel guilty for leaving her defenseless, alone in the street. Yet he trusts his intuition, that she is capable of taking care of herself. It doesn’t stop him to think that he will escort her if she allows him, though. Being around her is just… different. It’s different from what Vergil feels when he’s with Dante and Nero. Definitely not the same way when he’s around Devil May Cry crews. Even this is the different kind of feeling he once had for Nero’s mother, a long time ago.

The blue hybrid looks up to the cloudy night sky.

According to Lyra’s explanation, winter is the best season for stargazing. There are so much observable astronomical events in this season, not to mention the appearance of Winter Triangle and Winter Hexagon, the two major asterism that dominates the winter night sky.

“The Winter Triangle formed by Betelgeuse in Orion, Sirius in Canis Major, and Procyon in Canis Minor,” Vergil recalled Lyra’s voice when they discussed asterism. “While the Winter Hexagon are much more complicated. There are Rigel in Orion, Aldebaran in Taurus, Castor and Pollux in Gemini, Capella in Auriga, and the two from the Winter Triangle: Sirius and Procyon. Sometimes both asterisms appear simultaneously.”

One of the perks of being a half-human and half-demon is enhanced senses, including advanced vision. The sky isn’t clear, for the clouds are too dense, but Vergil can easily spot the Winter Triangle without difficulty. The stars are shining brightly that it reflects back in Vergil’s blue eyes. There is Sirius, he spots the second brightest star as viewed from Earth. He remembers Lyra mentioned that Sirius will continue to be the brightest star in the Earth’s night sky for the next 210.000 years.

He’s not sure that he would live to witness that phenomenon. Even Sparda didn’t live that long. Yet the fact that he would someday die doesn’t bother him. He is no longer interested in searching for power anymore, now that he realized that his true power lies within his humanity. He becomes more convinced after his conversation with Lyra. That humanity is flawed, but worth to defend. It makes him the man he is now.

The thought of the librarian gave him a moment of serenity in the darkness of the street. Gently, he slips the snowdrop bouquet Lyra made for him between the pages of Almagest. The token of their friendship. Her offer for his adversity. That remind him of a poem his mother once recited for him, when he was helping her at the garden of Sparda Manor :

“Now— now, as I stooped, thought I

I will see what this snowdrop is

So shall I put much argument by

And solve a lifetime’s mysteries.”

“Interesting.” He mutters to himself as he summons the Yamato, cut the space to open a portal and walks towards Devil May Cry office.

–

Here's the source of recited and mentioned poems and lines :

Paradise Lost by John Milton

Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Auguries of Innocence by William Blake

Georgics by Virgil

Night by William Blake

The Snowdrop by Walter de la Mere

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higuchimon · 4 years

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[fanfic] Secrets of Ears: Chapter 4

Daisuke tried to wrap his brain around what Gennai said. He’d been created? It had felt kind of funny when he’d first heard it from Koushiro but to hear all the details like this – it wasn’t all that funny anymore.

His stomach churned a little bit as he stared down at his hands, then looked up at the others.

“So what does all this mean?” He wanted to know. “I mean – I’m not going to start wanting to tear apart reality or something, am I?”

“Unlikely. Gennai shook his head. “As I said, while you weren’t intended to develop a mind or personality of your own, you did. Which means you make your own choices, just like any other human or Digimon. But you will have to be wary of your dark side.”

“Dark side?” Miyako asked, eyes narrowing a trifle. “What’s that?”

“Just what he said,” Yamato answered. “All of us who have Viral blood have a dark side. The part of us that’s pure viral and takes after our Viral parent.” He twisted his lips for a heartbeat. “All of us have Digimon names. Mine is Chiguumon. But my dark side is Anbumon. They’re – not quite different people, not quite us.”

Jou nodded. “My name is Jitsumon. Dark side is Fuseiimon.” He made a face as annoyed as Yamato’s. “He drinks a lot more blood than I do. I do it because I need to. He does it because he likes to.”

“Aikoumon,” Sora quasi-introduced herself. “And my other side is Akuenmon. She’s not really someone you want to meet.”

Ken’s ears were naturally paler than the rest of him. Right now, Daisuke thought that the rest of him wanted to catch up to his ears in paleness. He swallowed.

“So what about us? Or the others?” His eyes flicked between Miyako and Koushiro.

“We don’t have dark sides. I’m Vaccine and Data, Miyako is Vaccine,” Koushiro told him. “As for the two of you, I can’t honestly be sure. You’ll have to encounter those sides to know their names. As for your own names – you’ll learn them. They’re written into your data.”

Daisuke wasn’t that worried about it. Gennai had just said that he could make his own decisions, so he wasn’t going to fret about a so-called dark side. What he worried about was Ken and what Ken was probably thinking. Ken had mostly accepted his past and moved on from it. But to hear that there was a dark side in him just waiting to get out…

Nope. Daisuke wasn’t going to let Ken worry about that. He’d not done all that work to get him to feel good about himself to let it all go to waste now.

So he stood up. “Well, thanks for letting us know. Come on, Ken. I want some ramen. You want ramen?”

Ken was on his feet a moment later. “Yes. I would like ramen.”

“Before you go,” Koushiro spoke quickly. “You need to be aware of this. Your powers are linked to the Digital World. The more time you spend there, the easier they will come to you. But now that you’re aware of them, they could manifest at any point. The key seems to be strong emotion. Watch yourselves.”

Daisuke didn’t waste another moment. He wrapped one hand around Ken’s, and wasn’t even remotely surprised that Ken’s hand shook in his grip.

He squeezed Ken’s fingers and smiled at him. This was weird, yeah. But it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t all get through together, just like they did everything else.

They settled back onto the train, neither of them saying anything about what they’d found out. Ken stared up at the train’s roof, his eyes half-closed, his hand still firmly in Daisuke’s. Daisuke’s fingers itched to bury themselves into Ken’s hair and do everything he could to soothe Ken.

He held back, though. He wasn’t going to bother Ken’s hair or even get close to his ears in public. He’d made a promise.

They stayed quiet all the way until they were in the ramen shop that Daisuke had wanted to go to today. Their partners stayed with them, just as quiet, Wormmon snuggling around Ken’s shoulders, V-mon leaning a little against Daisuke’s side.

It was V-mon who broke the silence. “I always kind of thought you smelled like a Digimon,” he said. “But I thought that it was because of me.”

Daisuke blinked before a laugh broke out of him. “Guess not.” He playfully tapped at V-mon’s nose. “Guess you need to get your nose checked.”

V-mon pouted, playfully whacking back at him. Ken chuckled a bit, but it sounded strained. Still, the ice had been broken.

“I don’t care who your sire was,” Wormmon said, squirming around so he could stare soulfully up into Ken’ eyes. “You’re my Ken-chan no matter what.”

Ken’s cheeks reddened and he stared down into his ramen bowl. “I don’t want to be like that again,” he murmured, hands clenching together. He swallowed for a second. “Do we know – do we know anymore if it was the Spore or if it was – me?”

“Does it matter?” Daisuke asked, shrugging. “You’re not like that now and you’re not going to be ever again. You know better. You’re not going to hurt anyone innocent ever again.”

He wasn’t surprised that Ken was worked up over it. He’d probably stayed worked up over it for a while. Even with Daisuke and Wormmon and all of the others telling him over and over that he’d grown and didn’t need to be worried about it. Ken worried. It was what he did.

“Hey!” A vaguely familiar voice declared and someone dropped himself down on Ken’s other side. Daisuke glanced over to see Tachibana Noriaki sitting there, flashing that brilliant white-toothed smile. Daisuke wondered if he should ask which toothpaste company sponsored him. “Didn’t think I’d see you guys here.”

Ken tensed at once, shifting to be closer to Daisuke. “Why not?”

“I thought you were gong on a date,” Tachibana teased. “You are dating, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Daisuke wasn’t going to deny that they were an item. “And we are on a date.”

Tachibana tilted his head. “You’re going out for ramen as a date? I took my girlfriend to the gardens. Saw some really awesome flowers there.” His eyes glowed warmly. “You should do something like that. Or to a concert.” He stopped, eyes suddenly focused on Ken’s ears. “Or would that be too much for those poor sensitive ears of yours?”

One hand flashed out and dug into Ken’s hair, squeezing his ears. He didn’t let go, even as Ken squealed and started to bat at him.

“Aw, it’s not that bad! You’re not a little kid anymore, are you? You should be used to people playing with your ears, especially if you’ve got a boyfriend!” Tachibana grinned, light glinting off of his teeth.

Daisuke was on his feet already. He didn’t normally get too angry; he’d never really felt the need. It had to be something horrible to really trip his temper. Seeing this jerk fondle Ken’s ears like that, when Ken so very clearly wanted to be anywhere but here, did it.

“Let him go!” Daisuke snapped, and he wondered oddly why his voice sounded different, deeper, darker. Not for a moment did he think about what he’d been told earlier.

At least, not until a gleam of something caught his eye and he saw a long, sharp sword resting in Ken’s hand. Ken’s grip tightened and when he turned towards Daisuke, Daisuke could see red flames dancing in the back of them.

They’d been told the process would take time. It seemed that time wasn’t very long at all.

Part of him – a part that he’d never been aware of before – stirred. Those rage-spawned flames were so pretty. Not that anything about Ak – Ken – was ever not pretty, but there was something special about them regardless. He wanted to curl up in those flames and bask there forever.

Instead, he rested one hand on top of Ken’s, where the sword waited. He shook his head. “No.”

Tachibana either hadn’t ‘heard or wasn’t paying attention. He rubbed harder. “Hey, can you hear really well with these things? They look so weird, you should get some kind of benefit from them, right?”

As fast as Daisuke was, Ken had always been faster. He leaped to his feet, knocking Tachibana away with one hand, and brought his sword around to point at the other’s throat.

“Touch me again,” he growled, voice sounding far too much like the Kaiser, “and I won’t hesitate.” The tip of his sword rested on Tachibana’s throat. “And I won’t care.”

Daisuke strolled to stand beside Ken. “And I’ll give him an alibi. Anything he does, you pushed him to it. We told you to stop. You’re not listening. Either leave us alone or pay the price.”

Tachibana looked, to tell the truth, as if he were about to wet himself on the spot. Daisuke wouldn’t have been surprised. In point of fact, he thought it would have been hilarious.

Wormmon hadn’t moved from around Ken’s shoulders. He rested one pod on Ken carefully. “You don’t want to hurt him, Ken-chan,” he murmured. “He’s not worth it.”

“No, he’s not.” Ken replied. “But if he doesn’t leave me alone, I will.”

Tachibana turned paler even than Ken’s ears. He stumbled back, eyes flicking all over. “You’re insane!” He spat the words out before ducking away and fleeing for the door as fast as he could.

They were the only ones there at the time – they’d stayed long enough at Koushiro's that most of the usual crowd had gone home. The ramen chef had stepped into the back. The timing really couldn’t have been better.

Daisuke closed his hand once more on Ken’s. “He’s gone,” he murmured. “You can relax now. It’s all right.”

Ken stared at him,, the bright ruby flames still burning. Then he swallowed, staring down at the sword as if he’d never seen it before in his life. Daisuke guessed that he really hadn’t.

“What did I do?” Ken whispered brokenly. “What did I do, Daisuke?”

To Be Continued

Notes: One chapter left to go! Sunday wraps it all up. I rather enjoyed writing the confrontation between Ken and Tachibana. Tachibana will probably run screaming if he so much as spies Ken across the street now. He’s lucky Akogimon didn’t fully awaken. Akogimon would have skewered him and laughed about. Think Kaiser, but worse. Much, much worse.

#higuchimon writes #fanfic #digimon adventure 02 #ichijouji ken #motomiya daisuke #ken x daisuke #daisuke x ken #au: breeds #chapters: secrets of ears

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jippy-kandi · 4 years

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Digimon Adventure tri. – Complete Series Review (English Dub)

Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna revitalised my waning interest in Digimon. So much so that I felt like rewatching tri. – but, seeing as I’ve never seen the English dub of it, I decided that would be my “rewatch”! I grew up with the English dub of Digimon, so I have a very soft spot for it. I still think the original Japanese version is far superior, but the English dub really was my childhood.

Under the cut are brief thoughts on the English voice actors, and then a lot more thoughts on the series – or, rather, just what came to mind as I was rewatching the movies. As it turns out . . . most of that was just my intense dislike for certain parts of Matt and Tai’s characterisation.

Note: I do mention Kizuna quite a bit in comparison to tri., but I don’t spoil anything (except for two lines that don’t impact the plot). I don’t think my Kizuna mentions will spoil your enjoyment of the film if you haven’t seen it.

English Voice Actors

Joshua Seth as Tai: PERFECT. He’s definitive Tai to me and he was amazing from the first movie to the last. All my dreams came true, etc. I was disappointed he didn’t return in Revenge of Diaboromon (where his replacement sounded like Joe . . .), but was happy at least Michael Reisz returned for that movie as Matt. But for tri. it was the opposite: Seth returned, but Reisz didn’t. :(

Vic Mignogna as Matt: MY EARS, THEY BLEED. He’s the actual reason I put off watching the English dub of tri. for years. I was so excited about the English dub, but then the very first promo clip of it with Matt speaking was released and I . . . it was truly horrific. He turned me off completely. And as soon as he spoke in Reunion, I had to stop the movie. BUT I EVENTUALLY SOLDIERED ON. OMG. He’s so terrible as Matt. There are a few lines he delivers that are . . . OK . . . but, mostly, he was a major miscast. I really hope Michael Reisz comes back for the probable Kizuna dub. I don’t care if they think he doesn’t have a low enough voice for adult Matt – he IS Matt to most Digimon fans worldwide. BRING HIM BACK.

Colleen O’Shaughnessey as Sora: PERFECT. Absolutely loved her, definitive Sora right here. Well, OK, I might love original Japanese kid Sora just a tiny bit more, lol. But she’s almost as great! I really wish I could’ve heard her conversing with Michael Reisz. :(

Philece Sampler as Mimi: PERFECT. It’s Mimi grown up, I’ve got no complaints, it doesn’t get better than this.

Mona Marshall as Izzy: PERFECT. Though isn’t it odd that a woman still voices him? Lol. I really appreciated that four of the old voice actors reprised their roles. I think it really helped with the nostalgia. I just wish all of them had returned.

Robbie Daymond as Joe: He was really good as Joe, but . . . he would’ve made an excellent Matt. Seriously. Every time he spoke, I kept thinking, “WHY DID THEY NOT CAST YOU AS MATT?” He just had to lose a bit of the “pathetic, nerd” effect in his voice and he would’ve made an AMAZING Matt. The voice director had no idea what he was doing.

Johnny Yong Bosch as T.K.: He made an excellent T.K., so I definitely approve. However . . . he also would’ve made an excellent Matt, if he aged his voice up a bit more. The English dub literally had TWO voice actors (T.K. and Joe’s) who could’ve voiced Matt better, but instead went for Vic Mignogna!? Seriously, what a fail. The only positive is that Matt and T.K. did sound like brothers . . . with T.K. having the far better voice.

Tara Sands as Kari: She was . . . OK. Sometimes she sounded way too old, though. She was decent enough . . . but her old voice actress was a lot better. Still, she wasn’t nearly as bad as Matt. *cough*

Cristina Vee as Meiko: Wow, her voice really annoyed me in the first two movies. But I think that’s because she was being all shy and wet blanket-y. She’s . . . OK in the end, I guess. Nothing special.

Cherami Leigh as Maki (“Hime”): I actually thought she was the most talented voice actor in the series. Her voice suited the character the most as well. I was super impressed with her. A+

Doug Erholtz as Daigo: He . . . sounds like an older version of 02 T.K., because that’s who he used to voice. It was odd when Daigo would talk with Matt, because I kept thinking Matt was talking to future T.K.. But he was fine as Daigo, I guess. (Off-topic: Japanese Daigo is voicing Japanese reboot Yamato . . . what is with Daigo and the Takaishidas!?)

Digimon Adventure tri.

I watched the tri. movies over a week. I wrote down my initial thoughts after each viewing, and then came back and expanded on them later. Because I didn’t want this post to be TOO long (even though . . . it is), I kept it mostly to my issues with the series instead of listing the things I liked. If you want, you can read my initial thoughts (including positive things) on each movie as they were originally released here. Below are my most “pressing” thoughts on a rewatch.

Chapter 1: Reunion

I still have major issues with Matt and Tai’s role-reversal in tri.. I think what annoys me the most is when a show asserts something that is simply not true. Tai saying Matt hasn’t changed at all (YES HE HAS, HE CHANGED INTO YOU AND YOU CHANGED INTO HIM). It’s one thing to just have that happen – but for a show to be obnoxious enough to SAY A LINE that is asserting something ridiculous just to put it into existence is irritating. “Matt hasn’t changed one bit.” = “Matt’s in-character because we say so, all right?” Annoying.

Matt was super aggressive and it really annoyed me. If you want to be very black and white, you’d say, “well he was pretty aggressive in Adventure”. But you’d be ignoring that he was only aggressive in Adventure in REACTION to someone else. Someone else HAD to set him off – usually Tai was pissing him off in some way, making an insensitive remark, etc.. But Tai ACTS first. Matt REACTS. But in tri., Tai does nothing and Matt just goes at him. That’s a loose cannon – and yes, there is a difference between having someone push your buttons and exploding, and . . . just . . . exploding.

Consider this example from Adventure: Matt puts up with Joe’s shit (really DemiDevimon) in the diner for a LONG time before exploding at him. Because that’s Matt. He’s an introvert who holds shit in before exploding, giving people a lot of chances and hoping it’ll work out. He doesn’t just explode unnaturally and often like in tri., as though it’s second nature to him (when it really isn’t). I really disliked how tri. devolved his character to that of the typical “brute” of the group (JUST to be Tai’s foil too, which made it even more annoying).

And, even though I haven’t seen the first season in YEARS, I still remember the “digimon graves” scene very clearly and how it characterised Matt and Tai perfectly (it summed up their ENTIRE characterisation – how their characters operated differently – in the first season). There are other scenes that present the same thing, but I think it’s THE definitive scene you need to know to have an issue with the “wrong” parts of Tai and Matt’s characterisation in tri..

They role-reversed that shit and it annoys me so much because Matt is so much more empathetic than Tai, but tri. turns him into an aggressive frat boy in Reunion and makes him lose all his perspective and observational skills -- which Adventure showed us he had a TONNE of (one of the things about him that made him my favourite character, and thus why it annoyed me SO much that they ignored this aspect of him completely to make him a “tsundere brute 9000”).

Basically, tri. got rid of the layers that made Matt and Tai who they were, and instead added “new layers” to them that MADE THEM INTO EACH OTHER. And then had the balls to ACT LIKE THEY’VE ALWAYS BEEN THAT WAY – for Matt, anyway, where they had Tai explicitly state that he never changed (WTF? Not only is that obviously A LIE, but it’s also asserting that MATT DIDN’T GROW AT ALL). For Tai, he was “growing” . . . into Matt – where Matt himself had an issue with his friend being like him in the past. Yeah, seriously. What a mess.

I don’t often think characters are “out of character” (in any series – writers usually have a good grasp on their characters) – but I definitely did here.

As I once joked to a friend:

Adventure told me all the ways Taichi was going to top Yamato.

And tri. told me all the ways Yamato was going to top Taichi.

Score: 5/10.

Chapter 2: Determimation

So . . . let’s talk about the “meeting scene” where Matt gets angry that Joe never turned up because studying is more important to him, and Tai shuts him down and defends Joe by saying he has his reasons . . .

I disliked this scene a lot because I felt like, as in the first episode, their roles were 100% reversed. TAI would’ve gotten angry at Joe for not turning up (Tai prioritizes ACTION over inaction/emotions/everything else) and MATT would have defended Joe for not turning up to a digimon meeting, because he has more empathy for people and is more understanding than Tai.

I strongly felt this way the very first time I saw Determination – and I still strongly feel this way about it now. The scene was a COMPLETE role-reversal and thus why I had issues with it.

Well, guess what?

In KIZUNA a similar scene happens. After a digimon fight in the movie, TAICHI says something like “only four of us showed up!?” (read: HE HAS THE ISSUE) and YAMATO defends everyone who didn’t show up (saying something like they all have their own lives).

Oh shit, was that Tai prioritisng ACTION over inaction and personal responsibilities (EXACTLY like how he was in season one)?

Oh shit, was that Yamato BEING EMPATHETIC AND UNDERSTANDING to others (EXACTLY like how he was in season one)?

THIS EXCHANGE IN KIZUNA WAS SO IN-CHARACTER THAT I NEVER THOUGHT ANYTHING OF IT.

I only remembered it when confronted again with the “meeting scene” in Determination – BECAUSE IT WAS THE REVERSE OF THE SCENE IN KIZUNA.

The Kizuna scene is just how the characters are in Adventure/02. Tai expects people to just fight, while Matt is empathetic. (HELLO AS WELL, DIGIMON GRAVES SCENE IN SEASON ONE.)

Seriously, tri. is really annoying with the Matt and Tai role-reversal. It’s my personal biggest criticism of the series because the characters are what I care about the most in Digimon, so if you’re going to switch them up – that shit is going to annoy me. No matter how bad a story is, at least do right by the characters and keep them in-character.

And I know the (very few) people who loved Matt and Tai’s role-reversal in tri. use the excuse of “tri. showing the characters growing” . . . But, man, I really can’t get behind that. Like, no, tri. just decided to switch Matt and Tai’s roles to serve their chosen plot (which is Tai growing up and becoming more ~mature – and I get it, it’s a GREAT theme to explore . . . but it shouldn’t have happened at the expense of BOTH their characterisations).

What “growth” is it when Matt is empathetic at 11, a frat boy arsehole at 17, and back to being empathetic at 22? What “growth” is it when Tai has always been a capable leader at 11 (because he KNOWS his priorities – which is WHY HE’S THE LEADER), suddenly frozen at 17 to an exhausting extent that even Matt never reached, and back to being the same capable leader with the SAME priorities at 22 that he had at 11? Yeah, that’s not growth. That’s mischaracterisation in one series.

Why do I have such an issue with this? Because it’s something that is FUNDAMENTAL to a person. You switch this ONE thing up and, suddenly, the person is operating as an entirely different person. Matt isn’t being Matt. Tai isn’t being Tai. It’s fundamental to WHO THEY ARE, and when you fuck with it, you’re essentially presenting an entirely different person. Matt doesn’t operate like that. Tai doesn’t operate like that. And it’s so obvious that the issue is with the WRITERS either not fully grasping their characters and/or just deliberately forcing it to fit their chosen plot (at the expense of the characters).

Anyway, I just feel really justified that tri. did Matt and Tai so wrong. Kizuna is BRILLIANT for any Taichi and Yamato fan who love the characters as they are in Adventure/02. I highly recommend it if you actually want to see the characters represented as they are in Adventure/02. Kizuna does NOT come across as fanfiction, which I think tri. really, really does (especially in the first two movies). I never once thought, watching Kizuna, that the characters were reinterpretations by a fanfiction author with Toei Animation funding – which is what I regularly thought in tri..

Score: 6/10.

Chapter 3: Confession

OK, this is a very slight thing (a brief line that was meant for laughs), but I’m on a roll regarding this issue, so why not? I’ll take another opportunity to get my point across.

T.K. says that fighting is Matt’s thing . . . yeah, no. Again, I dislike how tri. took ONE aspect of Matt’s character (how he fights with Tai a lot in Adventure) and EXAGGERATED THE HELL OUT OF IT. (The exaggeration here is that the line is supposed to summarise Matt as super aggressive in the entire series.) In tri., he is a tsundere brute with a capital T. And it reduces him to such a simple person, taking no considerations for his entire character. Matt in tri. seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face, like he was always grumpy. Chill, tri., Matt actually isn’t all that grumpy.

Go back and watch Adventure and 02. Matt is actually pretty laid-back – until someone ticks him off. But it has always been about EMOTIONS with Matt, NOT random acts of aggression. I wish the tri. writers knew the subtleties and nuances of Matt’s character better and didn’t just TURN HIM INTO TAI to be “new” Tai (OLD MATT’S) foil. Thank god Kizuna put things back to the way they were. Seriously, when you watch Kizuna, you REALLY feel like Toei went from:

Adventure -> 02 -> JUMPED STRAIGHT OVER TRI. WITH MATT AND TAI’S JARRING CHARACTERISATION -> Kizuna.

Anyway, that line was in a scene meant for laughs, so . . . it’s fine I guess. (I still judge the writers.) The only real con of the movie is that Meiko comes across as a wet blanket who doesn’t deserve the sympathy from the other characters (but somehow . . . just gets it). This is the writing in the previous movies being terrible, because they never showed us convincingly why the Chosen Children would actually accept and care about Meiko so much.

On a positive . . . this is the movie that made me fall in love with T.K.. It’s also – by far – the best written movie in the series and, personally, my favourite Digimon movie ever. So thanks, tri..

Score: 8.5/10.

Chapter 4: Loss

Yokomon being a bitch to Sora and no one else is still so incredibly forced and defies logic. I don’t think anyone can argue with this. But, other than this major bad writing flaw . . . the film was surprisingly pretty good. It probably has the best pacing of all the tri. films, too. I don’t think I even looked at how much time I had left of the movie to go (which I constantly did for Reunion and Determination, because . . . zzzzzzz).

I’m pretty torn about whether it was as good as Kizuna. I think . . . it was? But only because ALL of the characters were in it.

Let me put it another way: I think Kizuna is actually the slightly better film, but because Kizuna only really had TWO main characters, it makes its score go down a bit -- to match Loss’ score, which actually is slightly “worse”. But the fact that Loss has ALL the characters in it, lifts it up a bit to be pretty on par with Kizuna to me.

But Kizuna has more of an emotional punch, so, I would say Kizuna edges it out . . . just. Loss also has more flaws than Kizuna. But, overall, Loss was a pretty good film. Well done, tri., you’re on a roll! (And then . . . you stopped abruptly, lol.)

My favourite exchange:

Izzy: “Matt and Tai are best friends.” Matt: “No we’re not!”

Score: 7/10.

Chapter 5: Coexistence

Lots of Meichi . . . and Meiko being the best she’s ever been (or ever going to be). This is the only movie she didn’t come across as a useless wet blanket. And I did really like the Meichi heart-to-heart because it was actually well written. Do I ship Meichi though? No, I don’t think so. Even though they “connected” in this movie, it still seems a bit too forced and abrupt to me and it just wasn’t enough. Plus, I really don’t know why Tai would be attracted to her . . . I think he’d be attracted to girls like Mimi.

There’s a quick scene where Matt refuses to talk to his mum on the phone. My heart, it aches. Why couldn’t tri. show him ACCEPTING the phone call? That would’ve been a neat personal growth thing for Matt, coming off of Adventure, you know? I guess they just prefer him being closed off to his mum for life . . . it’s realistic, but still sad.

I really liked Matt yelling in emotional frustration because Meicoomon needs to be sacrificed (at Tai’s insistence). That’s the first time tri. got the Matt/Tai roles right so far? Oh . . . it’s because Tai’s storyline (his “character growth”) is FINALLY starting to get resolved. You know, him reverting back to the way he always was and being the capable leader who can call shots like that? Yeah. So when their roles go back to normal, everything MAKES SENSE again.

Wow, isn’t that incredible, tri.? That the characters now seem authentic and “right” now that you’ve decided to SWITCH THEIR ROLES BACK? Amazing.

But Matt putting Tai’s goggles around his neck = ICONIC.

That’s his brief consolation prize for being the ACTUAL leader for four and a half movies. Fuck you, tri..

But my issue with Tai’s storyline – other than the effects it had on Matt and Tai’s characterisation – also has to do with bad writing from more of a writer’s perspective (in that perhaps the average viewer wouldn’t have a problem with it).

I hate “undeserving” leaders in fiction (see: Luther from The Umbrella Academy).

Let me explain.

My favourite leaders in fiction (the best leaders I’ve ever seen) are Taichi from Adventure, Leonardo from Nickelodeon’s TMNT, and Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead. Why?

Because the writing showed you through actions why those characters were the most capable at being the leader. It doesn’t just point a finger at one character and go, “There! Leader! Always!”

Good writing shows you why a character is a good leader through their actions.

Bad writing just “designates” one character as the leader (just because the title “belongs” to them), and no matter their actions, they will always be regarded as the leader simply because the writer wanted that character to be the leader.

And tri. unfortunately does the latter. For most of the series, tri. shows Matt as the most capable leader – but because Tai is simply DESIGNATED the leader (that is, no matter what happens, Tai IS THE CHOSEN LEADER just because he’s the main character) – the series needed to get Tai back to his leadership mantle that has his name permanently etched on it.

I hate that.

And this isn’t a “Matt should’ve been the leader because he’s my favourite character” thing. It really isn’t. I personally never cared about Matt being the leader, because Adventure showed me that Matt was too emotional to be the leader. And he is. In fact, someone tagged me in a post a few months back where they quoted something I’d never seen before: it was Koushirou in the Digimon Adventure novels POINT BLANK telling Yamato that he was too emotional to be the leader. I laughed, because I love it when the series justifies my opinions in actual dialogue.

Anyway, I've always thought that Matt is too emotional to be the leader and never cared that he isn’t the leader. However . . . tri. told me in the first four and a half movies that Matt is NOT too emotional to be the leader. In fact, tri. told me that Matt’s perfectly capable of being the leader – and MORE capable of it than Tai was in those first four movies.

So, my issue is, if you’re going to show me that Matt is the better leader, then . . . MAKE HIM THE LEADER? You don’t “need” Tai to be the leader; he was utterly useless for the first four and a half movies.

But oh, that’s right; because Tai is the DESIGNATED LEADER, no matter what is shown (ie. Matt being the better leader), tri. has to revert back to Tai being the capable leader.

That’s bad, forced writing.

You should NEVER give the audience the impression that someone is the leader “just because” that title belongs to them in the series. Remember, SHOW ME the actual leader through their actions (ie. that is Matt in tri.) instead of just shoving it down my throat that there is “one true leader” that the writing must get back to, regardless of how incapable that person was.

Matt constantly tries to wake Tai the fuck up to lead in tri., but . . . Why? Matt is doing a perfectly good job of being the leader. There is NO need for Tai to step up and be the leader if he isn’t capable of it. If you can’t lead, STEP DOWN. The leader should never come across as being “designated” – they should always come across as the leader through their actions. And in tri.’s case, that was Matt.

Of course, we can’t have Matt be the leader when Tai is the main character of Digimon, can we?

But my stance is, if that is the case, tri. never should have showed us Matt was better at leading than Tai in the first place. Because it comes across to viewers as Tai just being the “designated leader” simply because the writing said so . . . and that, as stated, is bad writing.

My point is: the role-reversal never should have happened.

(And it’s only when Tai disappears that we suddenly get shown that Matt wouldn’t lead as well, so that we now think -- at the end of the series -- that Tai needs to make a heroic return and be the leader, despite it being shown earlier that he was useless . . . Yeah, fuck you, tri..)

Score: 6.5/10.

Chapter 6: Future

I’m still not here for Matt “learning a lesson” from Tai. Again, the writing for this is extremely bad and contradictory.

So, basically, Matt “realises” what Tai’s perspective is (his entire issue in the first movie) and NOW understands it . . .

Except, you know, the perspective Tai had was ALWAYS Matt’s perspective BEFORE tri. started. They just role-reversed their perspectives, so you have a REALLY BAD situation where Matt realises HIS OWN PAST PERSPECTIVE . . . is the lesson he “finally” learnt at the end of tri..

Matt changed into Tai (although tri. insists that MATT NEVER CHANGED AT ALL), but throughout the course of the series – THROUGH TAI’S EXAMPLE OF BEING MORE LIKE MATT HIMSELF – Matt realises his old views (Tai’s CURRENT views) made sense, and . . . acknowledges that Tai has a point/understands what Tai means now.

That’s Matt’s “character growth” by being Tai’s foil – being taught a lesson from Tai that Matt himself has always known.

Seriously, tri.?

It’s so incredibly lame and contradictory and just incredibly bad writing.

My biggest issue with tri. (if you hadn’t noticed) was the role-reversal of Matt and Tai. Other people can justify it all they want, but it was close to character assassination to me. Matt was 80% Matt, and Tai was . . . like, 50% Tai. Yeah, I disliked Tai for half the series.

An easy “litmus test”: If tri. had simply reversed Matt and Tai’s roles – so Matt is the one super concerned about collateral damage to the point where he freezes up, and Tai is the one being aggressive and insists Matt stops acting like a pussy – no one would’ve batted an eyelid. Because that would’ve been 100% in-character and make the most sense of what those two characters would’ve done in that predicament.

But, of course, because Tai’s the actual main character of Digimon, and this collateral damage dilemma (which is a good idea to explore, mind you) was their chosen issue, they forced it onto Tai – which also affected Matt as his foil. And thus, a lot of people had issues with what it did to Tai and Matt’s characterisation. Again, thank god Kizuna righted tri.’s wrong.

Also, I have to bring this up even though I’m sure everyone and their pet fish has complained about this: The whole 02 thing is insanely bad writing. They “went missing a long time ago” and Tai and co. DIDN’T NOTICE OR CARE? Like, seriously tri., it’s not that hard to come up with a better way to get them out of the series. It’s incredibly stupid that Tai was having issues with collateral damage potentially killing strangers, while his OLD FRIENDS were missing the entire time and they had no idea where they were, but then to suddenly CARE that they were finally found in the last movie?

Just, the logic, there is none. “Oh, we forgot about them completely . . . but, now that you mention it, we’re super glad they’re safe!” Seriously. You’re asking too much of the audience to make up excuses for you. I personally don’t care about the 02 kids at all, but the handling of it was definitely one of the biggest fails in tri.. They could have written them out A LOT better.

It’s also jarring when, in Kizuna, the 02 kids are back in the fold like they’ve never left. Tri. makes it seem as though they lost touch/aren’t close friends, because they hardly care and their reactions to “Ken” makes it seem as though he’s almost a stranger to them. But Kizuna feels as thought it comes STRAIGHT after 02, because it feels like they’ve always been a tight group (read: it really feels like Kizuna ignored tri. completely).

Score: 5.5/10.

Final Thoughts

I did it! I finished rewatching tri. (technically my first viewing of the English dub)! YAY!

I mostly still feel the same way about the series on a rewatch that I originally did. I think the biggest change of opinion for me was that I liked Maki a lot more than I did when I was just watching it in the instalments with months between films. I’m pretty sure it’s because I didn’t know her character at all as I was seeing it all for the first time, so it’s easy to be quick to judge -- but now that I knew her entire character arc, I actually got to appreciate her. But her storyline still could’ve ended A LOT better – but that’s really my only criticism of it. She was a great character.

I think it would’ve been a lot better to configure Maki into “Meiko” and have her infiltrate the Chosen Children and be a villain “from the inside”. I don’t think Meiko should have existed at all, and I think the reason tri. didn’t “hit” for most fans stems from the existence of such a poor character as Meiko being central to the plot (and thus having all of the terribly written things that happen in tri., happen in tri. . . .)

I think tri. was going to get a sequel but, because it wasn’t as well-received as they’d hoped (lots of criticisms of it . . .), they dropped it and made Kizuna instead. I really think that’s what happened.

I’m glad though because I LOVED Yamato in Kizuna. He was straight from Adventure/02. He was completely in-character in Kizuna and STILL managed to show the audience that HE HAD GROWN. See tri., it’s really not that hard to do.

Sometimes, it’s hard to put into words what exactly is “wrong” with a character. (Though I tried to explain it . . .) Sometimes, you just have to “see” a character and the “vibe” they give off isn’t quite that of the character you know.

That’s what happened with Tai and Matt’s characters in tri. for me. But the “vibe” of their characters in Kizuna came across as 100% authentically them, straight from Adventure/02, BUT GROWN UP.

You just “know” the characters when you see them. It’s the little nuances in their characterisations, lines of dialogue, their actions and reactions, and you just recognise the characters as them. And that’s from knowing who they are from past series (Adventure/02). Kizuna got Yamato and Taichi 100% right.

I’m going to put 17-year-old tri. Matt down to teenage hormones. Sora was withholding sex from him and so he had a huge amount of pent-up aggression. Yeah. *cough*

I am glad tri. exists though, because I got to see Matt at 11, 14, 17 and 22. And that’s amazing.

Best Characters

Matt (despite having issues with 20% of him, he still ultimately came across as the “star” of tri. to me), T.K. and . . . *gasp* Maki. Yeah. Seriously, she was actually one of the best written characters. Such a shame about how tri. chose to close her story.

Honourable Mentions

Mimi and Sora. Izzy and Joe. (Everyone but the Yagami siblings? Lmao)

Worst Character

Meiko. By a long shot. I honestly have no idea how anyone could like her (and are not just indifferent to her) . . . but I think, like, three people do.

Scores / Ranking

Chapter 1: Reunion – 5/10. Terrible. Chapter 2: Determination – 6/10. OK. Chapter 3: Confession – 8.5/10. Excellent. Chapter 4: Loss – 7/10. Good. Chapter 5: Coexistence – 6.5/10. Good-ish. Chapter 6: Future – 5.5/10. Terrible.

I had more issues with the bad writing decisions in Future than Reunion, but a lot more happens in Future, while Reunion is just boring. So . . . I guess Future is better than Reunion – but just. My ranking of the films now (best to worst):

Chapter 3: Confession Chapter 4: Loss Chapter 5: Coexistence Chapter 2: Determination Chapter 6: Future Chapter 1: Reunion

Conclusion

Overall, Digimon Adventure tri. is a pretty average series. I liked it enough, but there were giant leaps in logic and small, sometimes huge, bad writing decisions that could’ve been avoided or done a lot better with very little effort. The quality of a series depends on ALL the parts working: having good characters, good storytelling, stellar attention to detail, great adherence to logic so that the audience aren’t taken out of the experience. This is where tri. fails, because if you have a lot of those moments, it really does lower the quality of your story to your audience, who will get tired of constantly having to suspend their disbelief.

But, despite all of its flaws, tri. did give us the best Digimon movie ever made (Confession), so . . . Yay? I’ll take it.

If you were to directly compare Adventure and tri., I think you would say that tri. had better writing overall. And I would agree. But comparing them directly isn’t fair. Why? Because Adventure was made for kids, and tri. was made for adults. And here’s the thing:

Digimon Adventure is an excellent children’s series.

Digimon Adventure tri. is an average adult series.

Sure, a lot of dumb things happen in Adventure, but you can give it a pass because it’s a “kids show”. Overall, it was still an excellent series for kids, so much so that parts of it still holds up even when you view it as an adult with better critical thinking. That’s amazing.

Tri. is the better written series when directly compared but, well, it had to be. Its writing was better because it was aimed at adults, which naturally just lifts the ceiling that Adventure had to be aware of from being aimed at kids. But tri.’s many instances of bad writing isn’t as easily forgivable, as it is aimed at adults, so when it’s dumb . . . it’s just really dumb.

So, even though tri. is technically better written overall, I still think Adventure is actually the better series. How is that possible? Well, if someone asked you to recommend a good children’s show, you’d definitely say, “Digimon Adventure”. But if someone asked you to recommend a good series, you would NOT say, “Digimon Adventure tri.” At least, I wouldn’t.

And that’s it! Well done if you’ve made it to the end. I don’t think I will ever write about tri. again. See you in the next post about the Digimon Adventure: 2020 reboot series. :)

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure tri #digimon tri #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #review #tri thoughts #english dub #chosen children #taichi yagami #yamato ishida #analysis #?#just my very long thoughts on the issues i had with their characterisation

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orenonahaichigoda · 5 years

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I had a rough day, and came to a realisation. I will say a bit about my own experience, and then, after having to lay the groundwork of explaining 400 things about Japan because American schools and media think the whole world is the US, Western Europe, and places to blow up, making explaining necessary, will tie it to Ichigo, or at least how I portray him.

I'm Post Dankai Juniors, growing up in Japan. So's Kubo, actually. The boundaries of this Japanese generation are roughly '75 to '85, Yutori, the following generation that's always translated and localised as Millennial, pretty solidly set as beginning at '86. These things are always fuzzy because you can't vivisect living brains and find the part that likes char siu buns and the part that likes jazz fusion. I *majored* in Social Science. You'll have teachers who say "it is absolute that we date people who are similar to us because we're all actually narcists." (It *might* be because they're like our beloved family or community. Narcistic Personality is not universal) But it really just is fuzzy, and that teacher/book author is an idiot. Anyway, Yutori is always translated as Millennial. I don't know the end boundary. Post Dankai Juniors covers almost totally a debated throe for Germanic nations (I know Britain, Germany, and Nederland use the same generations as America, and their languages are Germanic) because of how fuzzy it all is, though.

Anyway, so since coming to the US, my interactions with other Asians, again, how is this defined when China, Mongolia, Japan all border Russia and West Asia includes Jordan and Saudi Arabia, South Asia is India's area, Southeast Asia is Laos, Thailand's area, I mean, find the Arabic kanji. I don't think Thailand even uses soy sauce. What the heck IS Asia, really? (Or "Middle East" when half of that's Africa and the other half shares plate with Europe? )

Anyway, my experience with Asians that are Boomer ages tends to be people who immigrated as adults, who more identity with a generation like "Dankai" or "Sirake." My experiences with Latinos older than me... I've never actually asked if the generational labels are even the same.

The thing about that is that when the name is the same, it means enough cultural traits are shared.

My biggest experience with people who grew up under the term "Boomer" are Black and white.

I've noticed a unifying trait.

If they're something oppressed (Black, gay), their attitude tends to be"it is mandatory to stand up for *my* demograph...but kicking the person behind me on the ladder in the teeth is wholesome, pure, and fun."

Outing me to large groups and saying I "speak Asian" seem to be the most common two. Calling me "Chinese" long after I've cleared this up for them is a close third.

I mean, don't get me wrong--my experience with Italian Americans past GI generation has been that now acquiring the "white" label, just like biphobic/aphobic/transphobic cisgays, they're more often staunch priveledge defenders than cishet people of Anglo descent! And it's just as true for X and Y as it is for Boomer (for the latter, one need only look at NYC destroyer and trump defender Giuliani) I actually don't really identify with my Italian side at all because I was kinda locked out of making any meaningful connection.

But back to my point that even in so-leftist-it's-almost-not-America Bay Area, Boomers are still like this!

The kind of stuff that flows out a X/Y TERF's mouth, or the mouth of an X/Y person with a Confederate flag on his wall, American-raised Boomers say with ease regardless of their alignment! It's banananas.

(Please note that I also just have not met a whole lot of Native Americans, period, nor enough people significantly older than me from any one place in Africa, that was an omission of lacking data, not intended as erasure)

How I tie it to Ichigo--

So Kubo avoids specifying birth years for anyone.

When I see something like this, I generally assume date of publication, as do most people in most fandoms (which of course gets screwy when you have something endlessly rebooted like Superman or Batman or something eternally unchanging like Detective Conan)

Anyway, the first Bleach something published was the comic in '01.

I generally assume it was supposed to be the start of a new school year, as Ichigo doesn't know many of his classmates until at least the first test scores come out. So it's probably April or something.

If Ichigo was 15 then, he'd also be Post Dankai Juniors, just barely. If Ichigo TURNED 15 shortly after, during his adventure, he'd be undebatably Millennial.

Now, there is still something up with Dankai and Sirake. PM Abe is the latter, b. 1954. A lot of his age-peers are behind him. This is the guy who supports remilitarisation and was caught funding a private militarist/fascist high(?) school that teaches that people from countries Japan conquered during its brief phase of trying to beat colonial Europe are less than dogs.

Now, I left there as a teen. Clinton was US president. Scandals still got people kicked out of public office in Japan. I hadn't figured or come out yet. Sure, I got bullied for being mixed, but kids will pick if you like different singers than the "cool" ones. They'll pick based on what's in your lunch. That data is sausage.

I'm not 100% sure what Ichigo would face day-to-day sociopolitically as he grew up/aged. I haven't had living family since'95 there, and friendships don't get deep enough to ever last distance until at least high school. For me, adulthood.

But I've kept/caught up enough (you try keeping up in the South before the internet was more than ten University sites!) that I know he'd face fascists (c'mon, the guy takes on a martial law government to save a new friend--that's anarchist, he just doesn't seem anarchist in his own world. He only fights humans in defence) I'm not sure how he'd feel about the JSDF, but he only fought the sinigami's war out of feeling like it was his responsibility because the adults around him kinda made it so. I super don't see him being for *starting* wars. In a human war, I see him actually being like Sugihara Chiune, a historical figure who died when I was a kid who I majorly admire. He worked at a Japanese embassy in Nazi territory, and when the embassy was evacuated,he continued throwing passports to Jewish people to go to Japan from the train he was departing on,and is hidden from Americans in the same spirit that Martin Luther King is...pulled the teeth out of. (PS, speaking of,go Google Steven Kiyosi Kuromiya)

Also, Ichigo's whole schtick is defending those worse off than him. He's not someone I see defending Yamato Japanese priveledge. Heck, I could see him joining Uchinanchu efforts to get Parliament and the US base to leave them alone. I can easily see him sticking up for a Filipino domestic worker he met thirty seconds ago.

To this end, I think regardless of what he is, he'd have a large rub with Japan's equivalents of Boomers.

Not to mention that Abe supporters tend to be very sexist and queerphobic, which isn't even homegrown but imported from Américanisation. I mean, there were female warriors--assasins, which is what Yoruichi and Soi-Fon are styled after, and go look at some Ukiyoe, like Utagawa Kitamaro. Quite a few artists in the 200-ish years of the Edo period depicted life in the queer districts. I've also had people posit that Noh might've been a welcoming draw for trans people the same way drag was all over the US in the twentieth century and still is in rural areas, where there's less cisgay gatekeeping. But this isn't something I can reasonably research without access to plenty of older and not well known dusty documents, and lots of time, and I live in the US many years now. And do you know how much round trip airfare alone is!? Also, the language changed so much and I can't read anything before Meiji without dropping words. Rukia, Byakuya, Yoruichi all have made for TV old-sounding Japanese like period dramas. Actual 18th Century Japanese would be unintelligible to the unspecialised.

So this stuff isn't really native, but Abe and a lot of people his age support all these -isms.

I super don't see Ichigo being happy about this.

(I also feel like Issin's old enough to remember before these -isms, but that's my own thing. In my project, he was in those districts, but that's me)

At the same time, I'm still writing this through my own lens. Also, not still being there, I just don't have enough data on Yutori in adulthood, or the grown Yutori lens. Honestly, even most other immigrants I meet are older than that. Or older than that and their adorable three year old children. So I have no clue.

In the early 2000s, I got myself from the South to CA and began to reconnect, but began to is the key phrase. I can tell you right now that Abe is as much of a second phase of Nakasone as trump is of Nakasone's buddy Regean. But what shifted when, I can't say. I'm not entirely sure how Koizumi ran the ship, as it were. I know some things, but not enough to say.

But whenever things shifted however, and whichever year Ichigo was born, I just cannot imagine him being any more on board with current events than really anyone in my area not born between 1946-1964 and raised in America.

I feel like he'd probably be too tired or self-effacing to fight for himself, but he'd take on, loud and proud, any bigotry against *others.*

I...also can't really say I'm much different, except my joints are held together by the power of wishes, so I'm more like "get the victim to safety" than "give the attacker plenty of regret." So, I can only do anything in limited ways.

Ichigo is also entirely fuelled by the power of love. Lost his ability to protect and feels like his sinigami friends ditched him? Mondo depressed, however much he wants no one to notice--which most do a great job of ignoring! Everyone in his world turned against him for a guy who has attacked people close to him? Terrified, and murder can now be an answer. (Fullbring Arc)

I was going somewhere with that. I've forgotten, but I'll leave it.

But anyway, I feel like he really only comes close to fighting for himself when others are taken away from him in a way that's also wronging them.

So yeah, I super don't see him happy with current events or Sirake gen.

I'm not sure how much I see him fighting for himself as mixed panromantic grey-ace. I mean, we know he fights people who are about to punch his face in for his looks, but what else can you reasonably do at that point? Get your head bashed in? I'm not sure how much I see him fighting hateful words pointed at him versus resigning himself to "people are the worst." I mean, when he talks about being picked on, he kinda seems resigned, or at least like it's a fact, like shoes being for outside or something.

I guess I tied it to Ichigo a lot better than I thought!

But also, the struggle against people born just after the war is not just you, and not just America. It's a major problem.

And it's likely that Ichigo would agree.

#out of body #musings #baby boomers #generation x #millennials #Japanese generations #Japanese politics #queerphobia #colonialism #moritomo gakuen scandal #sugihara chiune #japanese history #yoruichi shihouin #edo period

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engekihaikyuu · 6 years

Photo

Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu – The Tokyo Battle

ModelPress Interview Translation with Nagata Takato

Full interview translation and more photos under the Read More! Please do not repost my translations.

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The next tour will be a new production that illustrates the heated matches of the Tokyo qualifiers for the Spring High national volleyball tournament. It will expand the story by featuring a rival school as the main characters, and for Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu, that will be a new venture. Yes it will. When it was decided, I was really quite happy. Because we were making the fans’ wishes into a reality. There were so many people who said that they wanted us to feature Nekoma’s Tokyo Prefectural qualifier matches on-stage. So we’re really grateful to all the fans.

It seems like it’ll be quite a fresh new play. There may be people who know Haikyuu who’ll say, “Kenma as the leading role?” One of the great things about Haikyuu is how it really shows the spirit of the sport, and all the passionate feelings that go into participating in that sport, and I’ve always found that really interesting. But even though Kozume Kenma is influenced by Hinata, he’s not that exuberant, so to have a character like him be the lead in Engeki Haikyuu does make me a little nervous.

When you play Kenma, what are the most important things to you in playing his character? Because we have an original manga to work from, I try to keep in mind the image of his character. Among the Haikyuu characters, he’s the most laid-back, and I think he’s the type to not move very much, but you really can’t be that way on-stage. I have to make him move to some extent, and if I don’t perform that properly, it doesn’t feel complete. But even so I have to make him seem laid-back. I get pretty fussy about that. After that, there are the tosses. Since my position is that of a setter. As much as I can, I try to give meaning to each and every toss.

This is a stage production that has plenty of realism, but before the tour, what types of concerns and struggles are there? For our team, we prioritize everyone matching our breathing and being in sync. There have been lots of times when only our team stays behind after rehearsals to run through the performance over and over. We practice team parts a lot, because we all think that if we don’t put in the time, then we won’t be any good. In particular, Nekoma High has a persistent, “connecting” defense, that’s our team specialty, so we have a lot of movements where we crawl and roll around on the stage floor. We get a lot of bruises that way, and that sort of feels like we’re back in high school as part of a sports team.

Is it hard on your stamina? At rehearsals we work hard on our physical strength and endurance. We need at least enough so that we can perform two shows in one day.

In your time playing Kozume Kenma, please tell us something that you’ve learned or a way in which you’ve grown. Technically speaking, it would be vocals and articulation. He’s a character that’s not very lively, you get the impression that you’re talking to a stick. After that, I’ve definitely grown in my performance.

Kenma and the main character, Hinata, both influence each other, and they’re illustrated as pushing each other to get better and excel. Is there someone like that in your life, Nagata-san? There is. He used to play Kageyama Tobio, it’s Kimura Tatsunari-kun. He has things I don’t, he’s like this all-mighty guy that can do anything, so I always feel like I don’t want to lose to him. In that respect, he’s a rival, but whenever we have days off, he’s the first guy I contact. We talk about useless stuff 80% of the time though. But we can talk seriously if we need to. At first, I got the feeling that he might be hard to deal with, but as I’ve gotten to understand him better we’ve become really good friends. We had a lot of scenes where we were matched against each other, and he always has a really great look in his eyes. We were both setters, and he helped me out with that a lot, so he made me feel like I can’t just lose to him. He’s not really the type to give you advice or anything, but he’s the type to show you how it’s done and lead the way.

That’s a wonderful relationship. Do you have any particular memories of Suga Kenta-san, who’s played Hinata until now? Whenever Hinata and Kenma have an exchange in that week’s JUMP, my LINE blows up (laughs). He’s like, “Oh my god! Oh my god!” (laughs) To be honest, I really wanted to have the Battle of the Trash Heap at nationals between Karasuno and Nekoma together with him, but Suga-kun finally graduated last year with the fall production. Suga-kun is of course going to be someone that’s always in our minds for everyone on our team and other teams, and for the production as a whole; he was such a skilled and clever person. Because of that, to be the main character after someone like Suga-kun makes me think, can I do this? I do have my worries about it.

Taking over after Suga-san means you have to work hard, doesn’t it! It does. Although I still want him to come to rehearsals everyday. (laughs)

What are some things you’ve learned while working on Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu? Responsibility; It’s changed how I think about my work as an actor or how I can capture something. It’s not good enough to just act, at Engeki Haikyuu they really take into consideration what the actors think about the staging and any suggestions the actors have. That’s always fun, and it makes me think more about how I can present something. After that, teamwork. Everyone works together to build up this one production, so we have a very strong sense of unity.

Outside of Engeki Haikyuu, your other stage work includes the Tokyo One Piece Tower’s “One Piece Live Attraction” where you played Monkey D. Luffy, “Rock Musical Bleach ~Another World~” where you played Hitsugaya Toushirou... so Nagata-san, you’ve been able to play some pretty popular characters. But there’s quite the difference between your characters. Well some of that is thanks to the make-up artists and the costume designers... (laughs) There’s a part of me that acts as though I’m possessed by the character. A little bit like middle-school syndrome* (laughs). Maybe because I think it’s important to have that character’s aura.

*中2病 or chuunibyou, refers to a kind of behavior that’s most common in middle school students, where generally he/she acts like a mature know-it-all and/or thinks they have special powers, etc... Although Takato falls back on chuunibyou as an explanation, a western actor might instead call it “method acting.”

In the work you’ve done so far, what’s something that became a turning point in your career or something where your awareness of things might have changed? Last year in summer, I was in a play called “Takarazuka Boys,” and I feel like I was able to really tap into the depths of acting again with that show. I thought it was fun, but even some of the fun parts were quite difficult. I discovered some new things while working on it.

Speaking of expanding your breadth of experience, you’re currently in a TBS serial drama, “A story I read on the day I first fell in love.” I think you’re in the middle of accumulating a lot of varied experiences, but do you have an actor you aspire to be like, or a goal for yourself? An actor I admire is Tsutsumi Shin’ichi. I love the drama “Yamato Nadeshiko!” I would love to appear in a romance movie, or a suspense/thriller. I want to play the type of character that makes people go, “So he actually wasn’t the culprit!” (laughs) And then because of playing Kenma I feel like I’ve developed a specialty for playing simple, modest people. I want to play a lot of characters like him too.

I’m looking forward to seeing all those variations of you, Nagata-san. And now, in preparation for Engeki Haikyuu “The Tokyo Battle,” please share with us your thoughts. I think that this upcoming tour is going to have some things that the other shows haven’t done yet, and it’s going to become a new challenge for us. Of course I’m really looking forward to it, but we’re replacing the main characters from Karasuno and making Nekoma the main, and we don’t know how it’ll turn out, and honestly there are aspects of it that make us nervous. I wonder if I’m fit for the lead, and whether or not I’ll be able to pull everyone together, but this will be a show that’ll cross over into a new era* even, and for myself personally, it will be my 5th Engeki Haikyuu. I have a lot of experience already, and I need to make sure I show that off. I very much want people to come to the theater to see this Engeki Haikyuu featuring Kenma and Nekoma as the leading characters, and see how we take shape on-stage.

*In 2019, the Heisei era will come to an end on April 30th, with the abdication of the current emperor Akihito, and a new era will be named as his son Naruhito ascends to the chrysanthemum throne.

And lastly, Nagata-san please tell us your secrets to making your dreams come true. I think a lot about the things I want to do. “One day I want to be like this,” is something I think a lot. I’ve made my dream come true of appearing in a TV drama, and after accomplishing that, I start to come up with all kinds of bigger goals, and I want to make each of them come true one by one. Being the lead in Engeki Haikyuu is one more dream that’s come true. This really is a show that exists because of the fans, so I want to do my best on it without forgetting my gratitude to them.

Thank you very much.

===========

Translated by @nimbus-cloud Please do not repost my translations

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The original interview can be read online here: (x)

#nagata takato #interview translation #interview #translation #the tokyo battle #modelpress #engeki haikyuu #hq stage #hyper projection engeki haikyuu #haisute #I love this look on Takato tho #so soft

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polaristranslations · 5 years

Text

Shiogi Ranger

001

Hagihara Shiogi was an experienced tactician, Yukariki Ichihime was an adaptable string master, and Saijou Tamamo was a reckless berserker. That's why, even though those three were completely equal high school students just like me, they were beings that were completely different from me—although, recalling the fact that I myself had transformed into a mighty vampire over that spring break, then even if we were completely different living beings, you could perhaps say that we were completely equal monsters in that respect, so it was hard to judge.

Anyway, allow me to introduce them, one by one.

Hagihara Shiogi. Sumiyuri Academy third-year.

The academy was one that strived to gather various kids with various circumstances and train them into graceful Yamato nadeshiko, or perhaps into elegant combatants, and she happened to be that academy's representative—for my own convenience, I took it to mean that she's something like the student council president, but the title of tactician was not quite so easy to understand. Despite being in the middle of training herself, she had placed the academy under a substantial amount of control, like a shogi player manipulating the pieces on a board, so it was awfully awe-inspiring—if I wanted to look for someone similar to her at Naoetsu High, then there probably wasn't anyone other than Hanekawa. But, a high schooler that could actually compare to Hanekawa? Just the thought of it sent chills down my spine—not to mention, unlike Hanekawa who was primarily of the intellectual type, this tactician was well-versed in martial arts, which made her all the more difficult to manage.

Yukariki Ichihime. Sumiyuri Academy second-year.

A combatant that the tactician placed her trust in—however, her main role was to be in charge of searching for the enemy. As a string master—to put it simply, it was more or less a user of strings—she wove a complex system of "invisible threads" in all directions like a spider building a nest, using it to grasp the situation. It was apparently a technique she acquired from a "master" that went by the name of Shisei Yuma, but in a way, she'd already surpassed her master—the skill with which she used the gloves she inherited was far more accurate than even high-tech radars, and far more gruesome as well. However, just because she was entrusted with a support-like role did not mean that she was lacking in combat prowess at all—in fact, she was in that role because her combat prowess was exceedingly high. For the tactician who would use any means to achieve her duties, she thought "it would be unsportsmanlike to put this kouhai on the front lines" and decided to put that transcendental skill—in other words, Yukariki Ichihime—in reserve. The spider's thread that she wove around could just as easily turn into sharp sawblades with exceptional cutting ability. Even the legendary vampire had had her limbs cut off once before, and even I had more or less been chopped up into pieces before, but even so, I'd probably say that that was preferable to the fate of the victims that had gotten in her way.

Saijou Tamamo. Sumiyuri Academy first-year.

A combatant that the tactician didn't place her trust in—a berserker. If there existed high school girls that were born for the sake of combat, then she would certainly be one of them, and if there existed high school girls that were born for the sake of killing, then once again, she would certainly be one of them. The large knives, far larger than the usual 15 cm kind, that she gripped in both hands reminded me of the vampire hunter, Dramaturgy—however, she was not a solidly-built giant but a cute and lovely girl. However, the number of people that Saijou Tamamo had killed up until now surely far surpassed the number of brethren that Dramaturgy had exterminated. As for what those vacant eyes of hers was focused on, there was no one who knew. Not even she herself knew.

Tactician. String master. Berserker.

This ridiculous three-man cell of rangers was said to equal an entire country's troops with just the three of them—and it was none other than humanity's strongest contractor that had said so, so I probably couldn't take it as a simple joke. However, with that in mind, the facts were just too hard to accept—that I, someone who was "completely ordinary with no good points", would end up taking on all three of them at the same time.

It was like it had been fabricated.

Yes, as if it wasn't a story, but nonsense.

In the latest work of the series, "Musubimonogatari", I, Araragi Koyomi, had splendidly grown up into a fine 23-year-old, but this was an event that occurred after I'd only just turned 18—that is, near the end of April. If you'll allow me to use some know-it-all specialist terminology, then this incident occurred some time between "Kizumonogatari" and "Nekomonogatari (Black)". However, as things were, without even making it to "Musubimonogatari", I would have lost my life before even running into the various oddities that appeared after "Nekomonogatari (Black)"—becoming a 23-year-old would have been but a dream within a dream.

By the way, I'd be happy if you could still remember that three-way intersection.

After all the blood was sucked out of me by the iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire, and after I'd been reduced into a dreadful vampire, I'd fallen into a pincer attack from three sides by Dramaturgy, who killed those of his own kind; Episode, the half-vampire; and Guillotinecutter, who fancied himself a god—it was that very same intersection. At those very same coordinates, I ended up going through the exact same experience.

No, I could even say that the situation was even worse than that time.

After all, unlike during spring break, I couldn't rely on Oshino to help me—of course, that middle-aged guy in a Hawaiian shirt would claim that he didn't remember helping me at all, and that he was just keeping the balance between humans and oddities. But if I were to accept that twisted view, then that made me even more certain that he would not gallantly appear to save me in this case.

After all, those three that had me in a pincer attack this time were not oddity specialists at all.

They were human specialists.

Those girls were not trying to exterminate me as a vampire—they were trying to exterminate me as a human. Good grief.

However, I'd managed to just barely survive that hellish spring break in some way or another after this and that—I hadn't yielded to Dramaturgy's dual swords or Episode's gigantic cross or even Guillotinecutter's despicable hostage-taking strategy. So if I were to be murdered by these three girls in the same breath, or rather in the same spurt of blood, then I'd just feel sorry for those three men.

I'd show them that I could survive once again—even without Oshino.

I'd show them that I'd be able to survive, even if I wasn't a vampire.

Because one day, I wanted to appear in a mystery novel like, "My classmate that was supposed to have died during high school invited me to a class reunion...?", or something along those lines.

And I didn't want to appear as the "classmate that was supposed to have died".

But there was no time to cower. Now, at this three-way intersection where all roads lead to hell, what road should I take?

To take the right path and fight the berserker → proceed to 002.

To take the left path and fight the string master → proceed to 003.

To take the back path and fight the tactician → proceed to 004.

"Wooooobble... wobble."

"Your purpose will be cut off here."

"Even if the opponent is a vampire, my name is Hagihara Shiogi. By any means, fair or foul, I'll shoot you from head-on."

These roads leading to hell were full to the brim with high school girls in arms.

002

Without much room to make a decision, I broke into a run down the right path. Since the foolish option of cowering in place was out of the question, then I was convinced that this was the wisest path out of the three-way intersection.

However, this judgment seemed to go against common sense. Instinctively, it did not seem like a particularly preferable way to go. The reason being that, the one approaching me from the right path, Tamamo-chan, was the unique member of the three-man cell of rangers that was very obviously and very visibly brandishing weapons.

In both hands, she was wielding knives unbefitting of her physique, that you could mistake for hatchets or even axes.

Normally, I'd say you'd be crazy to deliberately choose such a terrifying path that involved encountering such a terrifying girl, but right now, you could hardly call this a normal situation—with that in mind, I placed a great amount of importance on the fact that Tamamo-chan did not seem used to those two knives of hers.

Indeed, those knives looked truly brutal.

However, when I focused, not on her hands, but on her legs.

Tamamo-chan's movements seemed extremely erratic—whether you described it as a staggering gait, or as if she were a fawn that had just been born, she was walking as if she were drunk, swaying back and forth as she moved forward, like Yajirobe.

She was surely being swung around by the weight of her knifes, which was why she couldn't walk straight. It was as the saying went: too much was as bad as too little. It would be like a beginner that thought, "The most expensive one is obviously the best one", and ended up buying a computer that was uselessly high-spec.

By not being fooled by her intimidating appearance, seeing through her true nature, and deliberately rushing down the path that looked the most dangerous—I surely resembled a hero that had managed to overcome a great number of battles.

Speaking of her appearance, Tamamo-chan, like a normal high schooler, was wearing a track suit. However, very much unlike a normal high schooler, her track suit was in tatters—I assumed that she was so unused to her knives that she ended up cutting her own clothes (and her cropped hairstyle was probably for the same reason), but what attracted my attention was not the fact that her track suit was in tatters, but that the design of her track suit was the bloomers kind—no, it's not that I was focusing on her bloomers.

Even if she was a high school girl, just what era was this high school girl from?—I happened to be someone who was incredibly strong-willed against those younger than me, but with that in mind, I couldn't feel the intensity of a veteran emanating from Tamamo-chan at all, let alone the sense that she'd had many battles' worth of experience... Really, bloomers?

If you looked down at me from a bird's-eye point of view, it might have looked as if I'd simply made a beeline for a high school girl in bloomers, which gave off a pretty problematic impression, but it wasn't like I was planning to tackle her slim body just like that—not in the slightest. Even if she wasn't used to them, knives were still knives. If we ended up grappling, then I wouldn't necessarily be safe from getting slashed even at random—I couldn't take that risk. Unlike when I was attacked at this intersection over spring break, I was no longer immortal now.

I had no intention of sparing any effort in escaping from this predicament I'd fallen into, but neither did I plan to engage in battle with a high school girl that had undergone special training—the reason I went with this forward-bent dash was not in order to fight, but in order to avoid fighting.

It was a stylish act of escapism.

As Tamamo-chan's footsteps unsteadily tottered left and right, I was planning on quickly slipping past around her. Doing so shouldn't necessarily be impossible to achieve... If I made sure to stay wary of the edges of the knives, it should actually be rather easy.

If a giant like Dramaturgy had been standing in my way, then there wouldn't have been an opening on this straight road to slip past, but as for Tamamo-chan, she was much more petite than I was, and she was walking while colliding with the walls beside her, like some sort of automatic vacuum cleaner. With each collision, she'd change her trajectory, all the while drawing closer to me—if so, then when she tottered to the right, then it was simply a matter of heading for the left.

Though it was a road, there was still width to it. That was all it was.

"Wooooobble... wobble... wobble."

See, even Tamamo-chan herself was murmuring her own onomatopoeia for how she tottered back and forth—that was proof that those massive weapons were too much for her. Together, those two knives surely weighed even more than Tamamo-chan herself, so it was a simple matter of universal gravitation—however, what I was making was a complete misunderstanding.

And it wasn't that those boorish knives weren't all that heavy.

It was that her weapons (kyouki) weren't too much for her at all—if there was something that was too much for her, it would be her madness (kyouki).

"Wob! Ble!"

Though it should have been onomatopoeia to express her precarious tottering, she'd suddenly shrieked it at full force—and all of a sudden, Tamamo-chan moved deftly, leaping in front of me where I'd been trying to slip past her.

She'd moved like she was in a sidestepping exercise test. No, it was like teleportation.

She was actually using the weight of the knives and her own lightness to her advantage.

She came after me as if she were falling over against the wall on my side—if I had turned my eyes away for an instant in fear of the knives' sharpness, I would absolutely have gotten stabbed right then.

I twisted backwards to dodge the blades. If Tamamo-chan's movements were from a sidestepping exercise test, then my movements would be the exercise in which you "turned your torso to elongate your spine"—it wasn't the kind of stretch you wanted to suddenly do after dashing at full force, and doing so would absolutely hurt your lower back, but I couldn't just let my heart get stabbed in order to preserve my lower back.

Your back couldn't replace your internal organs.

As a result, the knife in her right hand stabbed into a telephone pole in my place. The knife went in deep, up to the hilt, into the pole—eh? No way, were telephone poles constructed out of something that could be stabbed into like that?

Although I'd never once thought about what the inside of a telephone pole was made up of...

"I got you now—"

With an absentminded, practically monotonous tone of voice, Tamamo-chan spoke as if the telephone pole had been her target from the beginning—in fact, she hadn't once turned to look at me, who'd stopped in place. She was still facing away from me.

"My—name is, Saijou Tamamo-chan. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes. Saisaisaisaisaisaisaijou Tamamo, Saijou Tamamo. Yesyesyesyes. I am Tamamo. Tamamo I am."

"......"

Yikes. What was with this girl?

Had I, perhaps, taken the worst possible path I could've taken?

Putting aside her two knives... Had Saijou Tamamo actually been someone to properly fear?

"Wait... Hold on. Tamamo-chan. Let's talk."

"Right, let's talk killing. Kill talking. Killer king. King is me. No. King Hagihara is senpai—I am."

Wow.

Hohey.

And, while I could only think of such a dull thing to say (if anything, I was probably saying "pawn (hohei)" instead), Tamamo-chan pulled her knife out of the telephone pole with a twisting motion—and that "pulling motion" became one and the same as a "motion to stab me".

Like something straight out of the art of iai, she made to slash at me in a single movement.

If she had been using a Japanese sword, then perhaps it could have been considered the kesagiri motion, but with that boorish knife of hers, it felt more like she was chopping wood.

To be honest, rather than the blades themselves, I was more afraid of her ability to slash at me without hesitation—without any emotion whatsoever, she was moving to cut me in half as if it were as natural as breathing.

It wasn't even bending backwards—I ended up doing some form of backflip in order to dodge that knife. You might think that a dodge like that was trying too hard to be cool, and that it was exaggerated and irrational, but in order to face Tamamo-chan, who moved in eccentric ways, I had no choice to use eccentric movements as well.

Though I'd succeeded in dodging her attack, I messed up my landing. So if I wanted to score myself, I'd give it 50 points out of 100, but at this point it wasn't all that different from 0 points—if the saying went 50 of one and half of 100 of the other, this was more like 50 of one and 0 of the other. I may as well come up with a new saying that went, if you only go halfway, that's basically the same as standing still—but was I really busying myself with coming up with a new saying here?

"Wooooobble, wobble, wobble. Wowowowowo—"

Of course, I'd collapsed onto the asphalt by then (since I'd messed up a backflip, I was more than fortunate that I didn't break my neck), so I'd expected either of her two knives to come swinging down at me next, but Tamamo-chan's next attack was, for some reason, directed at the telephone pole again.

Did she have some sort of grudge against the pole? Jeez, this girl.

Taking the hilt of her knife, she loudly and violently bashed it into the telephone pole again and again.

...I didn't understand the meaning behind her actions, but I began to think that I might be able to slip around her like this, and slowly started to crawl away—and just then, Tamamo-chan turned her eyes towards me.

No, her eyes weren't facing (muiteiru) me at all. If anything, they were just wide open (muiteiru).

Though her head had turned towards me, her line of sight was following a completely different vector, and the movements of her legs and her arms were all over the place. Her form lacked any sense or reason, but somehow, the tip of her knife was extremely accurate in heading for me.

It seemed that, like a sensor, she acted on reflex to anything that moved—that must have been why, instead of going for me on the ground, she'd gone for the telephone pole that was wavering unsteadily, its balance having been disrupted.

My goodness.

To think that lying on the ground and not getting back up was actually the right thing to do.

In my crawling position, I had no other way to dodge but to roll over on the ground—my choices were getting more and more limited, and my survival skills were becoming more and more pathetic.

This time, the knife that swung down towards me stabbed into the asphalt.

Was this world made out of tofu?

However, the tofu this time was on my side. In other words, the weight of the knife had actually turned against Tamamo-chan—she was unable to pull the knife that had gotten stuck vertically into the ground.

"One knife is enough."

However, Tamamo-chan was not just quick in her movements but also in giving up. Without exerting any more effort in trying to pull it out, she let go of the knife's hilt, and switched over to the task of killing me using her remaining knife—it was true that, in order to kill me, a single knife would be sufficient (although the joke of one knife (naifu) being enough (inaffu) was unfortunately very funny. I felt like I wanted to use it myself in the future, if I managed to survive).

However, that opening had given me enough time to stand back up. It may sound like a bit of a surprise to hear this, but I was, at the very least, capable of getting back up.

Of course, even that movement of standing up made Tamamo-chan react.

As if she were being magnetically drawn in, she instantaneously leapt towards my chest. I wouldn't deny the fact that every man more or less had the desire for a girl in an exposed track suit to leap towards his chest, but when that girl was carrying knives, the story changed quite a bit—Tamamo-chan was rather like a Venus flytrap, as she wouldn't react if I didn't move, but not moving when a knife was pointed at you was effectively impossible.

However, since I'd managed to understand that property of hers, it didn't seem right to turn my back on Tamamo-chan and run away from her at full speed—the faster I moved, she was sure to move even faster.

The result ended up being that I stood in the same place and evaded Tamamo-chan's knife with the smallest possible movement—of course, performing such a boxer-like achievement was pretty much impossible for a mere high schooler like me, so my uniform slowly began to tear into pieces. My outfit was turning into a matching set with Tamamo-chan's. It almost looked like we were good friends. What could we do as a pair?

Rather than dodging by the skin of my teeth, I was dodging by the skin of my neck.

If there was some small salvation in all of this, it would be that her attacks were only coming from her knife—she wasn't hitting me with her bare hand or kicking me with her gym shoes. Without any headbutting or elbowing, either, she fully stuck to her fencing style.

In a way, her apparent pathological obsession with knives seemed to be my best chance to win—a chance to win against that madness of hers.[?]

As long as I kept my eyes on her knife, I could just barely dodge it.

After that hellish spring break, I'd forfeited that immortal vampirism that I'd possessed, but its vestiges still obstinately remained in me—in the human known as Araragi Koyomi, a demon had settled in.

Though my immortal powers were unreliable, I had confidence in my eyesight.

And my kinetic vision was no exception.

Tamamo-chan's illogical, irregular, and erratic movements gave her a form that was incredibly difficult to read, but fortunately, I was an extreme amateur when it came to martial arts, which meant that I wasn't led along by the preconceptions of those sorts of formalities.

When she was waving both knifes around, it felt like I absolutely couldn't take my eyes off for even a second, but with one knife, I had some leeway—and I could use that "leeway" in order to search for my next escape route.

"Shred shred—shred shred—shredded wheat."

However, despite none of her repeated attacks landing a single hit, it seemed Tamamo-chan didn't feel any stress at all. Since she was a soldier, so to speak, I would have preferred if she did get irritated, and perhaps even get bored with trying to kill an amateur like me... If she would just get irritated, then perhaps that could even serve as a weak point for me...

Why wouldn't she get irritated?

"Shredded wheat, put it in a bag. Take the bag and cut it up. Cut it up and the insides spill out. Spill out, like your insides—"

...It sounded like she was singing some insane cursed nursery rhyme, but she wasn't irritated at all—however, even if she wasn't irritated, it seemed Tamamo-chan actually found it surprising.

Surprising why I hadn't gotten "shredded" yet.

Well, of course, there was no way she could know that I was using my vampire sight to dodge her knife—and even if I did tell her, I doubted she'd be able to understand. In the first place, it was hard to believe that a person would so relentlessly try to cut up a regular human being as if doing papercraft, let alone a vampire...

"If your belly hurts, then I'll rub it—rub rub stab stab—wooooobble, wobblewobble."

I was the one who'd suggested we talk, but I should probably stop being led astray by Tamamo-chan's words (singing) now... In any case, I was going to just do my best to keep my eyes on the knife.

And as I thought so, I realized.

I'd assumed in the beginning that my eyes had gotten used to it, but that wasn't it at all—Tamamo-chan's movements that had been keen in all senses of the word had started to slow down in pace, little by little.

Through my eyesight, I noticed her fatigue.

Of course, a swinging motion was a great way to utilize the weight of the knife for the greatest effect, but it wasn't like she had arms the size of logs like Dramaturgy head—they were thin arms that were like withered trees.

Being eccentric, erratic, and unexpected had a nice ring to it (or did it?), but there was no way that keeping up those illogical and inefficient movements wouldn't tire her out physically. All right! By managing to hold out, I earned another opportunity—as soon as her movements got just a bit slower, I would find the right timing and dash away at full speed...

And then.

As soon as I'd spotted a faint glimmer of hope together with Tamamo-chan's fatigue, I'd lost sight of something else in turn—the knife, that I should have been following with my eyes without a single blink, suddenly disappeared from my field of fision.

"I might swish around and I might slash around—if you cut it close, then it'll be too close to call—and then, I my kill around—"

With her gaze fixed on who knows where, she thrust her now empty-right hand in a V sign into the air, twisted her torso, raised her right foot behind her, stood on her left foot on tiptoes, and, with her left hand—

Tamamo-chan's left hand was spun behind her back.

Her body's incoherent movements seemed way too erratic to just be a simple misdirection, but Tamamo-chan should have been holding her knife in that hand... Aha, so was she trying to confuse me for a moment by hiding her knife in my blind spot? But there was no use. As soon as she took the knife out of my blind spot, I'd be able to keep following it.

Or perhaps, was she switching the knife over from her tired left arm to her unused right arm behind her back—but that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all.

I should have been paying more attention to her nursery rhymes.

I my kill around—

It wasn't close to proper English grammar in the slightest, but she had done exactly as she'd said—before she could tear me to shreds, she went around and stabbed herself in the back.

And, after piercing through her flimsy torso that was barely there, the tip of the knife protruded out of Tamamo-chan's stomach—and pierced straight into my stomach.

It plunged right in. And then it tore me to shreds.

With the edge of the knife, she carved a Z into my stomach. Well, no, if the letter carved into my stomach was a Z, then she would be carving an S into her own stomach—in any case, she was cutting up her own bowels along with mine.

It seemed that for her, the saying, "Your back couldn't replace your internal organs", had no meaning.

Through her own back, she'd pierced my guts.

If my belly hurts, she'll stab it.

It wasn't that she was going to bring the knife out from the blind spot behind her, but that she was going to bring the knife out through her stomach—and not even a vampire's eyesight would be able to see that.

No. I'd seen the outcome of this battle from the beginning. I'd seen my own death, too.

The moment I chose the path on the right—

"...But, wait a minute, aren't you gonna die, too? What's going on with your spine?"

"It's fiiine. When people die, it's not because their spine breaks, it's because their heart breaks."

Feeling just the slightest bit happy that I was able to hold a proper conversation with this girl in bloomers at the very end, then with a snip, with a snap, I had no other choice but to die here.

003

Taking the path on the left as the natural decision to make, I ran down it at full force—without much room to hesitate, what was important was the courage to make a decision. After all, the right path had a girl with cropped hair, wearing bloomers, and wielding two knives tottering unsteadily in my direction. Anyone who picked such a path would have to be a complete and utter idiot. An idiot that wouldn't get better even if he died. An idiot that was better off dead, regardless.

Even so, I was reluctant to retreat behind me and face off against Shiogi-chan. After all, she was the leader of the three-man cell of rangers. To go head-to-head against someone who possessed an ingenuity that could compare to Hanekawa's was not something that appealed to me.

And so, by process of elimination, I decided to take on Hime-chan.

She was a girl with giant yellow ribbons on her head—she looked so young that it was hard to see her as the same age as Kanbaru, but of course, she was still a good enough soldier to attend Sumiyuri Academy, so I couldn't let my guard down against the cuteness of those ribbons.

Fortunately, I could see what was in her hands.

I could see what was in her gloves.

She was a user of strings.

She was stringing up a system of "invisible threads" in the surrounding area in order to get a grasp of the situation and begin searching for the enemy—as such, it would be an impossible task to dodge her and slip past her on this straight road. It would be as hard as trying to steal a jewel guarded by a security system of infrared laser beams.

Normally.

However, I was endowed with the eyesight of a vampire—while a normal human's sight might not be able to perceive those superfine strings, they were not "invisible threads" to me at all. If I was in perfect form, I would even be able to see infrared beams.

I wouldn't say that evading the strings that had been set up three-dimensionally on this straight road was like taking candy from a baby, but they weren't so hindering that I needed to run any slower than I was.

If anything, the strings were surely a hindrance to Hime-chan instead.

It was as if the zig-zagging spider's nest that she constructed had actually become a spider's thread that was coming to save me—they say that spiders only walk on the vertical threads of a web, right? Then I could simply run while hiding in the horizontal threads.

In the first place, moving while setting up a web was not something that could be performed at a fast pace—Hime-chan would have to proceed slowly. I hadn't exactly thought that far when choosing to take the left path, but it seemed now that I could move as I pleased while slipping through the gaps in the web.

However, at my incredible feat of running at full speed without touching or cutting even a single one of those "invisible threads", the girl with the yellow ribbons, Yukariki Ichihime, simply watched over me without even blinking an eye.

She simply displayed a cute smile upon her cute face.

"Huhuhu. It sure is brave of you to perform a suicide attack, Araragi-san. But from Hime-chan's point of view, that barbaric act is just like a moss to a flame," she said.

What, was her signature move to get proverbs wrong?

Sorry, but in our world, that was a fundamental skill that anybody was capable of using.

You're a hundred years too early to think you can charm me with such a traditional character trait, string master—however, her actual signature move, naturally, was not playing with words, but playing cat's cradle.

Today was a nice day in spring, but if there were any moths flying into flames, I would certainly be one of them—I'd leapt straight into the spider's nest because I'd had the confidence that I'd be able to get through, but I hadn't predicted how the nest would move.

No, of course I'd known it was possible.

This web wasn't just something that could lie in wait—it could even attack.

These threads were not threads to tie up the enemy, but threads to slice up the enemy.

So I'd more or less prepared myself to respond to however the "invisible threads" decided to come at me—but what landed outside of my expectations were the dynamic movements of those threads.

All of the threads returned, back to Hime-chan's hands. With a swoosh, swoosh, swoosh—they'd retracted and wound back up into her gloves.

Compared to walking along while stringing up the spider's nest, it seemed that she didn't need to be as high-strung about retrieving the threads—well, it was a simple matter following the reverse procedure of stringing them up, and thinking about it, it was obvious that I'd managed to get this far because the "invisible threads" were visible to me, so there was no reason to bother winding them up surreptitiously.

And, on that note.

There was no reason for Hime-chan to perform her next action surreptitiously, either.

If I was able to see them, then she may as well show them to me.

She took the threads she'd just gathered up and immediately reused them—her role was normally for logistical support, but when it was necessary, and also when it wasn't necessary to keep the strings out of sight, she was capable of reconstructing her nest in an instant.

And this time, it wasn't the nest of a spider.

Or rather, it wasn't even a nest—it was a wall.

In an instant, a "wall" appeared before my eyes.

They were no longer "threads" that had been strung up—an entire "surface" had been knit together.

Without needing to fuss over the details of where to hang it or what to hook it on, she had knit the "net" across the two telephone poles to the left and right—and it was an extremely fine net, as if a hundred million volleyball nets had been put together. This wall was something I could not dodge, even if I could see it.

Just physically, there was no gap through which a person could pass through.

"......!"

Of course if you bundled threads together, you could make a rope, and if you bundled ropes together, you could make a net—I'd hit the brakes as fast as I could, but I was too late. I collided head-on with the wall.

I'd sworn to keep moving even if my legs were cut off, but I had ended up being stopped by this.

However, threads were still threads in the end.

If this were a single piano wire, and I'd been running at a speed of 80 km/h, then I surely would have reenacted a Hollywood-like scene where my head was cleanly cut off, but if the "invisible threads" were bundled up into a clearly visible wall, then even if I collided with it at a speed that humans were capable of (about 15 km/h?), then I would only end up getting tangled up in the threads. In that sense, you could say this net was a safety net.

It was like, if you lay down on a single needle, it would pierce into you, but if you lay down on ten thousand needles and distributed your weight, then they wouldn't even be able to pierce your skin—not to mention, this wall, like the spider's nest before it, surely worked to protect me as well.

After all, if you erected a wall in the middle of a straight road, then in terms of oddities it would be the same as a "nurikabe", seeing as it stood in Hime-chan's way just as it did mine—but it wasn't the same at all.

Strictly speaking, it was less like I'd collided with the wall and more like I'd gotten stuck in the wall—after all, it wasn't a wall made of concrete or plaster, but a wall made of threads. As mentioned above, I'd gotten tangled up in those threads—and it was less like I'd stopped running and more like I was floating in the air.

One of my legs and one of my arms, as well as my head, had burst through to the other side of the wall.

I could perfectly lock eyes with Hime-chan.

She had an extremely happy grin on her face.

There wasn't even an ounce of malice in that grin—but there wasn't even an ounce of innocence, either.

"Uhuhuhu. You've fallen into my trap, Araragi-san—literally."

"......"

Ah, so that was it.

This wasn't a nest, and it wasn't a wall, either—it was a trap.

If I remembered correctly, something like a fowling net... The kind you used to catch wild thrushes and the like... With my entire body being caught in it like this, I could move neither forwards nor backwards... Yes, my weight had been distributed...

But fowling nets should have been banned as a hunting method in modern times due to their viciousness...

"...Won't you help me out?"

I gave it a shot, since I had nothing to lose.

"No way. The early Hime-chan catches the bird, you know."

It sounded like she'd gotten a proverb wrong yet again, but in this case, it was quite "literally" so—she put her hands behind her head and quickly untied her yellow ribbons.

She loosened the hair she'd tied up—seeing it like this, her hair was longer than I'd thought.

But why was she letting her hair down at this timing?

"Well, Hime-chan used up all her strings in order to make that fowling net. So I was thinking I'd prepare something in place of those strings."

"Th, then, are you going to use those ribbons? It's true that they're just cloth, which is a bundle of threads..."

"No, no, these are precious ribbons that I received from my master, so I couldn't possibly use it in such a hurtful way."

So, I'll use my hair, instead.

Saying as such, Hime-chan bounded towards me, who'd been rendered unable to move an inch—and wrapped a lock of hair around my neck.

The action was like she was wrapping a scarf around me, but if you thought it was anything like such a scene shared between fellow high schoolers, there was not one aspect of that in the current situation. In the first place, I was completely stuck in her trap.

The early Hime-chan catches the bird—or strangles it.

"Then, farewell, Araragi Koyomi-san. Your purpose will be cut off here."[?]

During spring break, I'd died in roughly a thousand different ways, but being strangled to death by hair was certainly not one of them—for a good-for-nothing like me to die like this, it was perhaps not so bad after all.

However, even in my fading consciousness, this came to mind.

If only I hadn't chosen the left path—

004

This was by no means a retreat—I was turning on my heel with a lighthearted backstep, exhibiting a foolish courage by choosing the route that would have me face off against the tactician: Hagihara Shiogi. Of course, I wasn't trying to be unexpected at all—going after the team's boss was the usual play to make in situations like these. Not to mention, if I just used my common sense, then taking the path behind me was the only choice that made sense—obviously, it would be no joke to go up against Tamamo-chan, who had large knives in both hands, and trying to evade Hime-chan and her radar of threads that perpetually probed the surroundings for enemies would surely end up being the most foolish decision made in history. If those choices were no different from me just biting my tongue off and dying right then and there, then it would surely be better for my survival if I went for the sly tactician instead.

Even if she was a high school girl that could compare to Hanekawa, she was by no means Hanekawa herself. It was true that, if she was a "Hanekawa capable of fighting", it was basically making the strong even stronger, but the moment she used violence, she would become a completely different person from Hanekawa. It was her pacifism that completely rejected acts of war that was one of Hanekawa's unique strong points—and that was why I had a chance to win.

I didn't know how many battles she'd lived through, but I'd long since passed the border of death over spring break, to the point that my entire body was obliterated—if we were to face off in just a single match, then perhaps I'd be able to outwit this tactician.

With an air of composure, Hagihara briskly walked down the center of the road and approached me—as if this simple path in this ordinary town was some royal road.

At a glance, she seemed like a standard high school girl in a uniform with the aura of a proper young lady, but she carried with her an intensity that made it hard to believe that she was my age. By this point, I'd already begun to deeply regret choosing this road... Wouldn't it actually have been better to face those two knives, or leap into the spider's nest that had been strung up...? Why did I choose something that was so much like a last resort in the very beginning?

"So you've decided to come to me on your own, Former Vampire-san. This is all going so according to plan that I'm actually a bit taken aback—it appears that there won't be any need for garlic."

With a faint smile, Hagihara reached inside her uniform—garlic?

Whoa, whoa, a lovely high school girl shouldn't carry around something like that in her bosom. Isn't that a bit too crude to use as a weapon in vampire hunting? I flinched back for a moment, but then began to run even faster, as if I'd been encouraged by the enemy.

Of course, that just meant I'd allowed her to provoke me.

Even so, at the very least, I was going to remain alert. And if she pulled out from her bosom not garlic but a knife like the ones Tamamo-chan held, then I prepared myself to react accordingly and run past her while staying safely out of range. When I said that Hagihara could even compare to Hanekawa, it wasn't just her intellect alone. Even the size of her chest could rival Hanekawa's—and within that cleavage, she could surely even store a large knife. Well, I probably didn't need to worry about her bringing out any "invisible threads", since that was the specialty of a string master that was rare in modern times. That was something that only Hime-chan and her master should be able to use. So I would probably be able to circle around her even while keeping a distance of two meters.

It wasn't easy to dodge her when she was standing right in the middle of the road, but maybe if I feinted—or if I made a feint by pretending to feint—or a feint of a feint of a feint—however, when I was only five meters away from her, what Hagihara pulled out from her bosom was not garlic.

"Very well. Stop right there. That's perfectly within range of my gun."

What she pulled out from her bosom was a pistol.

Of course I'd stop at that. Even if she didn't tell me to.

"Eh? Are pistols even allowed? In your world."

"Against professional players, a gun like this is nothing but a toy that wouldn't be effective in the slightest, but against a demon, I'm sure it'll be fine—the object itself is low quality, but the bullets are made of expensive silver."

So she'd brought silver bullets with her.

Indeed, if she was carrying those around, then there wouldn't be a need for garlic...

"Yes. In our world, 'mobile devices' would fundamentally refer to weapons, not cell phones, after all. Would you mind raising your arms above your head? Araragi-kun."

So those ostentatious knives and that fantastic thread usage, in the end, were both just misdirection, and the clincher was an extremely simple and straightforward gun... It felt like both the gun's muzzle and reality itself had just been thrust upon me.

"Okay, it's my loss. I surrender. Please have mercy."

I raised both my arms as I was told. If I'd still been a vampire, then at this point I could have used the breakthrough solution of turning my arms into vegetation, but now, it was a bit ironic—it was more or less because I'd lost almost all my vampirism then that I'd come to be defeated again at this three-way intersection.

"However, I wonder if you could answer a question of mine. Why are we even like this? Hagihara. Why are you—why are you, Hime-chan, and Tamamo-chan going after me? Why are you trying to stab me, to tie me up, and to shoot me?"

"......?"

This tactician was essentially a bundle of tactics that moved with a solid grasp of the state of the game, but at this question, she displayed a dumbfounded expression for the first time—it was as if she didn't even understand what I'd just asked.

This girl... She wasn't even playing dumb—this was actually behind her comprehension.

It was almost like she was a normal high schooler, racking her brains at the last question on her final exam—it seemed that my "wanting to know why I was being aimed at" was much too mysterious for Hagihara.

"Why am I going after you? Why am I fighting? Hm. What a leisurely perspective to take—but I've never once thought about it. I've only ever acted as I've been ordered to... Even a tactician is just a soldier in the end."

"You—you guys fight for no reason?"

"A war doesn't need a reason, correct? In the same way love needs no reason."

It sounded like a pretty smart thing to say.

I see—she wasn't someone who could compare to Hanekawa at all.

If anything, she was the exact opposite of Hanekawa.

"...You really don't know anything, don't you."

"I don't even want to know. It's because I don't know that I'm able to fight."

Every oddity has their own reason for existing—those were the words of the oddity specialist, Oshino Meme. And then, the specialist of humans, Hagihara Shiogi, would surely continue like this—humans don't have any reasons for existing at all.

Because she was ordered to, for some reason or other, because it came to mind, on the spur of the moment.

She will fight.

"...Then, why did you stop me? If you didn't plan on talking it out, you could have just shot me without wasting your breath."

Was it not to tell me the reason for this battle that had suddenly broken out? I'd held onto a sliver of hope that there would be room for negotiations, depending on what the reason was, but...

"......Aha."

Hagihara laughed. She laughed like a normal high school girl.

This wasn't her doubting me or anything—it seemed she'd just found it funny.

"Expecting to hear the reason for being shot before being shot? Araragi-kun, you've watched too many westerns."

"I haven't watched that many westerns, though. Huh? Then, what was the point of this 'Freeze!' and 'Put your hands up!' thing? Weren't you giving me a chance to beg for my life?"

"The reason I stopped you was that, it's hard to aim at a moving target with this low-quality gun. The reason I had you put your arms up was so that you wouldn't be able to protect your heart."

"...I'm glad you at least told me that much."

"Well then, BANG. My name is Hagihara Shiogi. By any means, fair or foul, I'll 'shoot' you from head-on."

Hagihara pulled the trigger of that low-quality gun.

A silver bullet would have an immediate effect even on a human, not to mention a vampire, but even as that bullet pierced through my heart, I still felt like I wanted to know.

Not the reason for being shot, and not the reason for fighting.

If I hadn't doubled back, and instead gone straight ahead into one of the left or right paths, then how would it have turned out? That was all I wanted to know—

005

The epilogue; or rather, the punchline.

In the end, no matter what route I chose, no matter what parallel world I went down, the ends of every branch seemed to probabilistically converge towards much the same conclusion. It may seem like a very mathematical moral to this story, but this wasn't actually the case.

Even if all roads were blocked on this three-way intersection, there was still a route in which I could survive.

My first mistake was assuming that I was only limited to three options.

Even if cowering where I stood was out of the question—despite being at a three-way intersection, available paths spread out in all directions. I wasn't a shogi piece, so it wasn't like I was restricted to the spaces on the board. In that case, I'd be better off choosing a route that involved confronting neither Saijou Tamamo, nor Yukariki Ichihime, nor Hagihara Shiogi—and it wasn't that hard to do.

The steps were what I could call, "back-and-forth".

Well, to be exact, it would be the footsteps I would take... I'd only analyzed the three combatants based on how threatening they were, but that was an extremely grave error on my part. Well, of course, I'd needed to take into consideration their respective threat levels, but "only" doing so didn't expand the range of decisions I could make—if anything, it reduced it. In the first place, the threat levels for all three of them had far surpassed the threshold, so it was all the same to me whether their combat prowess was 100 points, 1,000 points, or even 10,000 points—since my own combat prowess was less than 1 point.

In that case, I needed to focus on something else. Something that I could compete in.

For example... Yes, what if I "only" looked at their movement speed?

Now matter how they were trained, a human body could only reach a human's running ability in the end—they wouldn't be able to run faster than a car, and when compared to a train, we humans would all be more or less on the same level.

Furthermore, even if we were all on the same level, we weren't exactly the same.

Each person had their own individual speed.

A-kun went out to go shopping at a rate of 5 km/h. In order to give him more tasks to do, B-kun chased after him 30 minutes later at a rate of 6 km/h—and to deliver the wallet he'd forgotten, C-kun went out 30 minutes after that at a rate of 8 km/h. How long would it take for B-kun to catch up to A-kun, who departed 30 minutes earlier? How long would it take for C-kun to catch up to the other two?

Of course, as people like to say, applying a problem like this to reality brought about various logistical inconsistencies. Like, "How far do they even plan to walk?", or "Aren't there any traffic lights?", and so on—and the most extreme of those would be, "There's someone chasing after you, so turn around and go back!"

And I would utilize that inconsistency.

Among the three high school girls, the one with the fastest pace was, to my surprise, the one walking briskly down the middle of the royal road, taking elegant and composed steps, Hagihara Shiogi. As it were, she was just walking normally, but if we were to assign her pace a score of 100 points, then relatively, then the one with the slowest pace, once again to my surprise, was Yukariki Ichihime. Because she was walking while stringing up her spider's nest in all directions, her pace had slowed down considerably—so compared to Hagihara's 100 points, Hime-chan's pace would get a score of around 80 points. And, as for Saijou Tamamo, who proceeded forward while swaying and shaking with a lightning-bolt-like trajectory, I'd say she was somewhere in the middle with 90 points.

Of course, this was just their basic speeds, and I could only gaze in wonder at Tamamo-chan's keen and eccentric movements when reacting to "moving targets". And even Hime-chan could move at an above-average speed if she abandoned all pretense of secrecy. As for the speed of Hagihara's silver bullets, they were difficult to track even with a vampire's eyesight. However, I could still use it as a basis—a basis for choosing my path.

First off, I'd take Route Left. In other words, I would head for the spider's nest.

However, I wouldn't run at full speed. I'd run at a speed of about 100 points, fast enough so that I wouldn't be chased from behind, and proceed straight down the left path—at least, only partially. Before running into Hime-chan, before getting caught in her radar, I would turn around.

I would turn around and return the way I came—using that inconsistency of my choices in a consistent manner. Of course, it would be ideal if I could return backwards without being seen by Hime-chan, but it didn't matter if she did see me. In the end, her role was just to "stand in my way", and that spider's nest was made just for that, so she wouldn't abandon it to chase me too far—since the other routes were blocked by the berserker and the tactician, after all.

Or they "should have been" blocked.

However, before I could "return to the start", the tactician that walked at a 100-point rate would arrive at the center of the three-way intersection. There, she would have to make a decision.

She'd be confronted with the same choice as I had—should she go down the left path, or the right? As long as her objective was a pincer attack, she absolutely needed to choose one of them, but which path should she take to continue the pincer attack?

In other words, I was transferring my options to the other party—however, if she thought about it for just a little bit, she'd realize that she had no other option but to take the right path. After all, if I'd gone down the path where that radar lay in wait, then she wouldn't be worried about letting me escape... But if I'd gone down the path with the out-of-control berserker in charge, then there was a million-to-one chance of an unexpected defeat. That's why she would have to proceed down the path on the right.

And so, the tactician would take the right path, and the unguarded back path would then be open for me to escape at a 120-point pace—an unguarded escape route would be created.

Well then, let's go with that plan in 006.

Having my stomach be turned into a Z sign while listening to nursery rhymes, being caught in a forbidden fowling net and getting strangled by a girl's hair, or getting shot by a silver bullet even after I'd become a human... If I was going to meet such wretched fates, then I would rather just die sooner—was not what I thought in the slightest. Even this route may fail against the tactician's iron fence, but if so, then I just needed to look for another route.

It didn't sound too bad to be stuck in an endless loop where I got to play with high school girls from another world forever, but I would much rather prefer to enjoy myself with everyone I was going to meet from now on—so until I find the route I could use to escape, I'll revive myself over and over again. If there's no route, then I'll just make one. And, someday, I'll turn into that boring, 23-year-old adult.

Even if I'm torn to shreds, my heart won't break.

My purpose won't be cut off here.

My name is Araragi Koyomi.

After just barely escaping from that spring break of hell with my life, unlike when I'd been a vampire, my life was something I wanted to cherish.

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kindcstguardian · 5 years

Text

MISC.

i. / basics.

Name. Lynn Darcy. Nicknames. Troublemaker, sweetie, Candy Birthday. Age. 17-23 years old. Nationality. French. Languages. French, English &&. Spanish. Gender. Cis female. Sexuality. Bisexual. Status. Single. Occupation. Student &&. part-time worker in Cosy Bear Café. Speciality. Finding solutions to problems that aren’t hers and, instead, causing them in her own. Hobbies. Jogging, boxing, taking care of plants, ocasionally playing basketball.

ii. / physical.

Height. 160cm / 5′ 3″ Weight. 50kg / 110 lb Hair color. Brown. Eye color. Green. Blood type. O + Appearance. A petite female with a slightly built body ( at the moment due her newfound interesting in boxing ). Long hair naturally straight with chocolate brown pigment alongside green eyes.

VERSES.

Main verse. TAG. 「 MAIN ／ Lynn 」

Highschool student, 17 years old. As a transfer student, she is a bit clueless and lost at the beggining. However, she quickly got used to the institute and learnt every little secret of it. Still, this does not apply to actual people. Lynn does have a lot of friends, though, and is quite close to Kim due having her as lab partner in Chemistry. But she doesn’t get along with Amber, Capuccine, Li or Charlotte. Peggy is on thin ice. Ah but, ever so caring Lynn — she can’t help but always want to help everyone.

MCLUL verse. TAG. 「 SECOND MAIN ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old. Canon divergent. Mostly based on what’s taking place in the canon of My Candy Love University Life — except that Lynn never cut ties with all friends and kept in touch with Kentin alone, she still has a hopeless crush on Nathaniel but hasn’t gotten herself involved with anyone, keeping everysingle friend at arm length. So, no route Lynn?

Third main verse. / A different outcome TAG. 「 THIRD MAIN ／ Lynn 」

College student, part-time worker in Kentin’s bakery, 23 year old. She didn’t want to be bossed around by her parents, neither leaving the city she grew to love. In fact, she wanted her freedom but Lynn wasn’t having it so easy. From a side, her parents had stood their ground but so she did, fully determinated to stay. They all bickered and argued, raising their tone than trying to find a solution — that was, until Aunt Agatha got in the middle and decided to take care of the situation. After much talking and convincing, she persuaded Lucia and Philip. Thus, leading Lynn to win only one obstacle from the many that would appear in her road. Happily that she got to stay rather than losing all connections, she first started to help Kentin before deciding what she wanted to do with her future.

Fourth main verse. / What if? TAG. 「 FOURTH MAIN ／ Lynn 」

Highschool student, 17 years old. So what if she could see the relationship stats that she had with other people? Like, a visual novel game? Well, that was about it! It was strange but she could not see options at all, she had free speech ( thankfully ) which allowed her faster to either improve or fuck up further her relationships.

Persona 5 verse. TAG. 「P5 ／ Lynn」

Highschool transfer student, Star, 17 years old. ‘ You have truly made me wait, I am known for being impatient, ma fille, but I will allow it this time ’ , the brunette fell to knees, holding her head while she screamed in utter pain, tears rolling down her cheeks while her eyes were shut, trying to somehow make the pain bereable. All background noise was blocked, overpowered by a female voice inside her mind. ’ You have always clenched your fists and withdrawn for the fight, doing little to nothing. Finally, you have grown tired; let us form a pact, shall we? ’. The voice was right, Lynn had enough. Taking blow after blow, being ridiculized, embarrassed and tossed aside — being the stepping stone others needed to feel superior while she put on a show, the happy pierrot that everyone relied onto but whom never spoke a single struggle. It was time for her to realize her own worth and speak her mind, yell to the four winds her heart’s desires; to defend and attack instead of being a mere broken shield. ’ I am thou, thou art I we cannot tear out a single page of our life, but we can throw the whole book in the fire! They can bind our body and tie our hands but nothing can be done nor can shatter our will! ’, the hands that once had been holding her head were now on the floor underneath her, helping her to push herself up slowly — green hues had turned yellow and filled with such aggresive determination that she had never felt before. Straightening her back, her right hand placed itself before the mask that had manifested to existence, gripping it hard, she pulled away at once — blood running down her eyes. “ We shall show them what we are made of, come to me Amantine! ”

Eldarya verse TAG. 「Eldarya ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old. Absynthe Garde / Alchemist. As a descendant of a human, her father Philip, and a fairy, her mother Lucia, Lynn is a faerie. However, she was never told about the truth and because of her clueless nature, she never suspected anything weird ( not even when her aunt would show up in particular clothes which she lied that it was part of her job as a dentist not to scare children, including wings on her back as part of the costume ). Which is precisely how she stepped in the thin line of human world and magic world, the blindfold had been finally removed. Currently stuck in Eldarya and unable to return nor communicate with her parents, Lynn spends her days working to win the meal of the day alongside an elf named Ezarel as an assistant for the potions he needs to create, but mostly errand girl: running here and there to provide everything on time.

Mystic Messenger. / MC1. TAG. 「MysMe ／ Lynn 」

College student, 23 years old. Actually, Lynn isn’t sure how she found herself in Korea. Mostly, trying to be a good friend for Hyun and be his emotional support friend when he needed one given his grandfather had gotten terribly ill and chances were… No, no. She shouldn’t focus there. In fact, she should focus on finding the place her friend had indicated that both were staying at — yet, things rarely go as planned. Sometimes, the female felt that she was a magnet to problems. A message, an adress and a distressed person were the formula to lure her towards an unknown appartment in which she ended up locked. Stuck in a position of party hoster of sorts, Lynn Darcy chose not to fight her fate and assume her role. Kim Yoosung, Kang Jaehee, Hyun Ryu, Han Jumin and Choi Luciel needed her, after all. And God knows how big her heart is to leave without providing the needed help.

Shall we date? Destiny Ninja 2 + TAG. 「Destiny Ninja 2 +／ Lynn 」

Living in the Spring Village has been a wonderful experience since she can recall, to wake up everyday and see how flowers would blossom — new ones that would arrive because of the ocasional windy days and carry along new seeds for the view to change, take different shape and colors. Yet that lovely experience started to come to an end when the Yamato Island began to get corrupted. Was the story they told her as kids to make her fear true? All Lynn can do is pray and keep up with her training; she might not be an expert, but basic defense moves could safe her. Besides, her father had always taught her how to use a gun since possessing a sword was more of an honor, a lifestyle.

Shall we date? Blood in roses + TAG. 「Blood in roses ／ Lynn 」

It was a poor idea for a human to wander into a castle, but after having lost her family, the brunette found no better choice than try to find a temporal refugee. Much to her horror, it turned out to be the rumored Hotel Libra Sincera — unable to return nor escape because she had nowhere to go, she decided to step inside that place. Truthfully, Lynn never thought she would use a Humphrey’s bottle of False Mist that her mother had bought to her at age nine in case something bad would happen to them. It was easy to forget about it but Lucia has insisted for Lynn to carry it at all times; and now, she could finally use it.

Wizardess heart + TAG. 「Wizardess heart + ／ Lynn 」

Student &&. buddyless, 17 years old, spellsinger. TBA.

Ephemeral: Residents in the dark. TAG. 「Ephemeral ／ 010」

Student, 120 years old, half-breed. A lovechild from a vampire and a human, a horrible sin for all creatures that should have been killed hasn’t been that she was born with the strongest gen as expected, which is the single reason she had managed to survive thus far in the world were ranks meant everything. However, her mother had been murdered by other humans as soon as it was discovered that there were vampires within their world — Philippe had returned with shame and head hung low back to his family. Forced into a marriage with another woman, a mermaid that grew to terribly hate Lynn going as far as to dig her nails into Lynn’s wrists due being young and beautiful. To say Lynn was grateful to being accepted into that prestigious institution wasn’t enough, she decided to stay and live there. Refusing to return to a place where her stepmother wanted her head in a spike — yet, her secret keeps her awake at night, what would happen if she was discovered?

ANIMAL.

Main verse.

TAG.

23 years old. WIP.

Aggrestuko verse./ Publishing department. TAG.

Office lady, 24 years old. Lynn Darcy had studied art history, however, she did not find many jobs suitable for that and ended up undergoing trainment to become a ‘desk person'—work in an office and fall into a comfortable routine for another year and a half.

TAGS.

「 Lynn Darcy ／ 𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓭𝔂 ┊ swcctlcve 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ INQUIRY」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ MUSINGS 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ VISAGE 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ MANNERISMS 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ INTROSPECTION」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ ROMANCE 」

「 Lynn Darcy ／ CRACK 」

RELATIONSHIPS.

DISCLAIMER. I will not ship with the same character more than once unless my partner tells me they will no longer write said character and, therefore, the ship spot is free again. Please, do not force the issue. 001. Will you have exclusives? If my partner and I discuss it before hand, then yes. 002. Will you have mains? This will be more popular but yes, I will have limit of three mains.

KENTIN BRONSWORTH. ROMANTIC TAG. ✘ · Kentin Bronsworth ♡（ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢ ᵇᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃᵗ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁻ ⁱ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ） FRIENDSHIP TAG. kcntin ; ʜᴏᴘᴇ（ φιλíα ） ABOUT.

RAVEN KENDALL. ROMANTIC TAG. ✘ · Raven Kendall ♡「 ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳˡᵈˢ ᵃᵖᵃʳᵗ」 FRIENDSHIP TAG. ABOUT.

HAIDA HYENA. ROMANTIC TAG. ✘ · Haida Hyena ♡「 ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘ ／ starryburglar 」 FRIENDSHIP TAG. ABOUT.

✘ · ♡（）

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rahmakapala · 6 years

Text

Prince Charming and a different kind of Cinderella

Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin

Pairings: Kenshin/Kaoru

Characters: Kaoru Kamiya, Kenshin Himura, Megumi Takani, Yumi Komagata, Hiko Seijuurou, Koshijirou Kamiya, Sanosuke Sagara, Tae Sekihara, Soujiro Seta.

Word count: 34 824

Summary: The Crown Prince of the Kingdom is looking for a bride to be, a woman who could keep a secret. Why? Because in this retelling of the Cinderella, our Prince not a man, but a woman who has been crossdressing her whole life in order to provide stability for the Kamiya's rule.

When the castle announces a grand ball, everyone is drawn to the event of the century – even our Cinderella, a trans woman working as a maid for a noble family fallen to disfavor.

The familiar story unfurls with odd twists and turns as Kenshin's and Kaoru's paths cross and an undeniable spark between them is set alight.

Read the story in AO3, FF.net or below the cut!

AN: This is a very self-indulgent take on the fairy tale Cinderella. The whole story got its inspiration from one Tumblr post that was circulating a few years back, asking a question - what if Cinderella was a trans woman? In addition to that question, I got curious about what would happen if Prince Charming was not a man, but a cross-dressing woman? What if these two women fell in love? As such, my story focuses deeply on women's narrative. I have tried to create compelling female characters that have agency, no matter if they are heroines, supportive characters or villains.

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do.

Notes/Warnings: Transgender main character, transwoman, bisexual main character, F/F pairing, cross-dressing, transphobic character (minor role, just a few nasty words), misunderstandings, pining, idiots in love

Please note: this story has not been beta-read, so be prepared for grammar issues and typos.

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Prince Charming and a different kind of Cinderella

The girl looked aside coyly. She hid her lips behind her fan, looking by all means nothing but an innocent, sweet ingénue. At her side, her mother smiled approvingly, like a master of orchestra conducting her symphony.

Kaoru raised her drink and hid her grimace behind her cup’s brim. She could just imagine what a disaster this girl would be in their plans. They needed someone who could keep a secret. Someone, whose loyalty she could attain and who couldn’t be easily controlled by their parents, relatives or other power hungry parties preying on the court.

Was it too much to wish for beauty and brains in your romantic partner?

“We have a lovely countryside estate. The grounds are extensive, perfect for riding and hunting trips.” The ingénue’s lady mother prattled on. “I’m sure the Prince and his friends would find it a good place to relax from the court’s demands. What do you think? Would you be interested to visit?”

“Yes, you must certainly come!” The girl enthused. “I could show you my garden!”

“It would be surely a sight to see,” Kaoru allowed. She gave a subtle hand sign to her father, sitting on her right.

King Kamiya Koshijirou, the first of his name, the ruler of island kingdoms Yamato and Ezzo cleared his throat. “Lady Inoue, Miss Inoue – your offer is very kind. Unfortunately, I cannot spare my son from his duties at the court for the time being. Maybe we could discuss this matter some other time? In the coming autumn, perhaps?”

“Oh,” the ingénue’s mother gasped softly, a hint of dismay flashing in her severe eyes. Clearly, she recognized rejection, even as politely phrased as it was.

Kaoru fought back a smile. It would be beyond insulting to show her amusement in a situation like this, but at this point, she just didn’t have much patience left for the potential in-laws meddling plans. After all, this was far from the first time she had met a potential bride to be. Or even among the first dozen of such meetings. Gods, the past year she must have met all of the daughters from suitable noble families in the country!

And yet, despite all this effort, none of them had felt right.

King Koshijirou and Lady Inoue exchanged polite pleasantries as they finished their tea. Kaoru managed her part, allowing some of her disinterest show to cauterize any hopes Miss Inoue might have entertained. Judging by the look in her doleful eyes, the girl wasn’t particularly surprised. It was for the better, really, even if their farewells became quite lukewarm as a result.

Then it was over and the mother-daughter pair disappeared from the sight.

Kaoru flopped down to the patio’s padded divan, throwing her head back as she groaned in exasperation.

The footsteps echoed on the marble floor, the clothes rustling as a heavier weight sat down on the other end of the divan. “Surely she wasn’t that bad.” King Koshijirou let out an amused rumble. “I found the girl quite sweet. Pretty, too.”

“Yeah, pretty. I wager that’s all she’s ever been allowed to be,” Kaoru sighed. “I much prefer brains and capability for independent thought over looks. Besides, her mother was a controlling busybody.”

“True,” King Koshijirou huffed. “But you shouldn’t discount the daughter just based on her mother.”

“Shouldn’t I?” Kaoru raised her brow, “A girl like that, if she was allowed to find out sensitive secrets – just how long could she resist before spilling the beans to her mother? And how fast would that come to bite us?”

A shadow of regret swept over her father’s face and he looked at her seriously. “Kaoru, I have done so much wrong by you. I have demanded so much from you and yet, even now, in matters like this, your first thought is for the good of the kingdom.” He paused to consider his words. “But you know that I… I, ah wouldn’t demand my daughter to make sacrifices like that.”

Kaoru looked aside.

“It’s not a sacrifice,” she said slowly. “For the king’s heir, the marriage is always a political affair. And even if… yes, even if I was known as your daughter, my marriage would be carefully orchestrated for the best possible effect.”

“No,” King Koshijirou denied and reached for her hand. “Kaoru, no – never think that! I have always wanted you to find someone you could love! The only reason I have allowed this farce to continue as long as it has is that you said– “

“–that I find women just as attractive as men?” Kaoru cut through his words. “That hasn’t changed. Neither have any of the more pressing reasoning as to why your only child and heir should be a son. Or need I remind you of the threat Makimachi present to us even now? With just a hint of instability in the Kamiya line and they, their supporters or any of our long line of enemies could gain leverage they need for a coup.”

The reminder soured her father’s expression through hell and back.

In his youth, King Koshijirou had gone to war to combine kingdoms of Ezzo and Yamato, and though he had spent two decades trying his best to stabilize his reign and bring forth an era of peace and prosperity for them all, the ugly fact was that their Yamatoan’ rival family, Makimachi, had nearly as compelling right to the throne as them.

Even now, there were dozens of noble families who would leap at Makimachi banner, just for a chance of a coup, to better their own positions in the aftermath.

What brought even more uncertainness to Kamiya’s reign was that King Koshijirou had only managed to sire one child before the death of his wife at assassin’s poison and he had never married another. Kaoru had never been told a reason, but she had long suspected the poison hadn’t just struck her mother, but her father as well, only in a way that wasn’t outright visible…

…at least, it would explain a whole lot.

As a result, King Koshijirou’s only child wasn’t just his precious child, but his heir and the future of his kingdom. And so, for the sake of Kamiya’s reign, Kaoru had grown up as the Prince instead of the Princess.

“Dad,” Kaoru said softly. “I have never blamed you for anything.”

King Koshijirou looked up at her, sadness in his eyes. “You should. For the sake of peace, I sacrificed your happiness.”

Kaoru shook her head mutely.

“It’s true that I don’t get to wear pretty dresses… but I get fancy uniforms and tall boots instead. A much more practical choice,” she grinned a little, letting a hint of levity enter her tone. “Besides I have gotten to learn your swordsmanship style, ride, travel, go out and hang out with my friends… Oh, and let’s not forget that I can study whatever interests me! So no, I don’t think you have done me much harm.”

“Yes, that’s something we really should fix, shouldn’t we? The right for women to study,” King Koshijirou huffed, his fondness apparent. “Oh, Kaoru – how I treasure you! You really bring me perspective on life.”

“I aim to please,” Kaoru smiled. “But really, don’t worry about my dating woes. I’ll find a suitable wife to be, someone who can keep my secret and help us to maintain this illusion.”

“I’ve no doubt of that,” King Koshijirou said, but then sighed. “I just fear that you’ll trade a loving marriage for that of a convenience. What if you can’t find a woman who can look behind the appearances to the person underneath? Someone who could be interested in – ah, the same sex?”

“Then we will come up with an arrangement. A marriage of convenience, as you said.” Kaoru said resolutely. “My wife can have a lover and a child, as long as everyone thinks the child is mine. And I… well, I can have dalliances on the side. That’s even common for men of my caste, isn’t it?”

“I’d prefer for my bloodline continue, but if it’s not possible… yes, I could settle for your son in a name.” King Koshijirou smiled sadly and reached for her hand. “Alright, I’ll trust you. But for the sake of your father’s concern, would you mind a suggestion?”

“Of course not,” Kaoru replied, somewhat baffled. “I value your opinion greatly, as you know.”

“You do – most of the time,” King Koshijirou nodded sagely. “However, I have noticed that you approach this marriage of yours like you’d arrange an alliance. You scout the most influential families for the most suitable daughters, and then approach them through their families.”

“…Yes?”

“I merely note that you get what you order. Love is rarely so neatly arranged; often it shows up in the most unlikely situations – as does attraction.” King Koshijirou remarked. “A more informal event, as it were, might be better suited for your purposes than an interview with the family.”

“Oh,” Kaoru paused, struck by the simplicity of the comment. “That could be very true, but…”

“Also, I note that for the purpose of finding a woman who would be blessedly free of tangles in the political sense, it might be better to broaden your net. Even a wealthy merchant’s or a landowner’s daughter, or someone from an old, honorable family fallen to hard times could be perceived suitable with little work. If the affair were made out to seem romantic, it could even help to endear your choice to the people.”

“But,” Kaoru paused, her eyes widening in disbelief. “I don’t have many contacts among the lower castes and, and… how would I even approach them?!”

King Koshijirou laughed at her shock. “Perhaps a ball?” he suggested with a twinkle in his eye. “The castle’s ballroom doesn’t see much use these days. We could organize an event and invite all the eligible young women for an evening of music, dance and good food. We could even make it a spectacle; let it be known that Prince Kaoru is looking for a wife.”

Kaoru wrinkled her nose. “That’s a bit… tacky.”

“A bit,” Her father shrugged. “But it would be effective; even if nothing would come out of the night, you’d get to see who you are dealing with. Meet new faces, see who you’d be interested to contact afterward.”

“That’s true,” Kaoru admitted with no small reluctance. She drummed her fingers on the chair’s armrest thoughtfully, then scoffed, “Awh heck, what’s there to lose? Sure, let’s do it.”

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“It’s illogical. Father said you were like me: an orphan adopted to become an heir to a noble family. But instead of being grateful, you threw it all away… and for what? To be this? Even if you’d manage to lure some poor sod to marry you and they wouldn’t beat you for deceiving them, you can’t do half the things women ought to be able.”

Kenshin carefully twisted most of the soapy water away from the cleaning rag, letting the silence take over the grand hall of the manor, becoming more pressing by the moment.

Was young sir expecting an answer, then?

“There’s more to the women’s lives than pleasing their husbands and bearing children, that there is.” Kenshin murmured at long last, glancing up to the stairs, where Lord Soujiro was sitting. “Would you say your Lady mother’s political endeavors are meaningless? Or Miss Megumi’s studies and practice in medicine?”

Lord Soujiro smiled blandly, as he usually ended up doing whenever he didn’t know the answer.

“You know what I mean,” The young lord stated, his eyes were locked on Kenshin like he was studying a particularly strange creature. “You had status, wealth, connections… and now, you have trouble finding paying work. If not for my Lord father’s interest in peculiar and my Lady mother’s compassion, you would be out on the street again, penniless. Why would wearing a dress merit all these difficulties?”

Kenshin tensed. “It’s a choice this one made, quite knowingly.”

“But why?” Lord Soujiro insisted, merciless like a cat on a hunt. “Why would anyone want to be a woman?

Kenshin looked aside, dipping cleaning rag back to the water to give something for her anxious hands to do. Her stomach churned, like a snakes slithering all over her gut. This was a personal matter, not something she’d wish to discuss with anyone, least of all, not for the sake of a young lord’s curiosity. Yet she couldn’t afford to antagonize her employer’s son. This job she had as a maid was the best work she had found in these last thirteen years she had been on her own, trying to live a lie that felt like the truth.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know how illogical, how absurd her choices were.

The body she’d been born with was perfectly fine and healthy, yet it had never felt quite right. Even as a child, she had realized it on some level, though she hadn’t been able to pinpoint what bothered her so. But when her family had passed away due to an epidemic and she was adopted to become the heir for an old, dignified bloodline – a stroke of luck, according to everybody – the weight of expectations, of trying to please her benefactor, that all had started to feel nothing more than a gilded cage. For all the kindness of her new father, for everything he’d given her, the role of a nobleman’s son and all the underlying expectations it brought: to court a wife and have a child with her someday just to continue the generational pageant, it all had felt too much to bear.

“It’s…” Kenshin hesitated, “It’s just easier to breathe like this, that it is.”

“But you’re wearing a corset.”

Lord Soujiro’s expression was so baffled, that a smile tugged at Kenshin’s lips. “A figure of speech, young sir,” Kenshin bowed slightly, to hide her amusement behind the manners of a servant. “Please, pardon this unworthy one, for being unable to explain it more clearly.”

However, before Kenshin could get back to her task, the main doors swung open and two women marched in. Both of them were strikingly tall and beautiful – a mother and daughter pair that turned heads everywhere they went. As always, they were carefully dressed to match even if their faces bore no family resemblance.

No accident that, but then again, in Lady Yumi’s schemes, nothing ever was. Lord Shishio’s burn wounds he had gained in the aftermath of the Great War might have caused him to be unable to sire an heir, but his lady wife had turned this misfortune to her advantage, scouring through lower-ranked houses for a perfect daughter to adopt. Miss Megumi Shishio, formerly of the house Takani fulfilled all the requirements for intelligence, beauty, and cunning Lady Yumi could possibly want and so, Miss Megumi’s birth family had agreed to sign her off – against a suitable sum, of course.

“Lady Yumi, Miss Megumi – welcome back,” Kenshin rose to greet them and rushed to take their afternoon cloaks. “How was your day? Did the matinee go well?”

Lady Yumi shrugged off her expensive, fur-lined cloak and pushed it to Kenshin’s arms like it was a worthless rag, then paused to look around the hall. “You still haven’t finished cleaning? What have you been doing the whole afternoon? Sleeping?”

Kenshin paused. There was no way she could say Lord Soujiro had been pestering her the whole day, now could she? “Pardons, my Lady. There was an– “

“Save your excuses.” Lady Yumi interrupted her. “You can finish this mess later – but first, take out and air all of our evening gowns. Everything needs to be washed and ironed to perfection. We shall have to see if any gowns we have on hand are suitable, or do we need to have new ones tailored.”

“The older gowns might be better for this – make it easier to stand out from the crowd.” Miss Megumi remarked coolly behind Lady Yumi. “Given how everyone has been thrown into hysterics over this, I’m sure all the capable tailors are knee-deep in orders already.”

“Exactly my thoughts, my dear,” Lady Yumi remarked over her shoulder.

Kenshin blinked in surprise. “Has something happened, that is?”

“The royal castle just announced an event of a lifetime.” Lady Yumi turned to face Kenshin, a glimmer of excitement shining in her dark eyes. “In two weeks time, Prince Kaoru will be holding a ball for all the unattached ladies under the age thirty. Finally, in his search for a wife, he is looking further than the daughters of the most influential noble lineages. This time, every daughter from wealthy merchant families, landowners to lower ranked noble houses have been invited.”

“Oro!” Kenshin gaped, too stunned for words. A ball like that… Oh, it would be a sight to see: all the eligible young women of the kingdom wearing their best dresses and most extravagant hairstyles. Even a freak of nature like her should be able to learn a thing or two, seeing all that beauty in one place.

“Kenshin,” Lady Yumi’s voice pulled her out of her wistful thoughts. “Need I remind you what an opportunity this is for us? If our Megumi makes an impression on Prince Kaoru, it would change everything for the whole Shishio family.”

“Aa,” Kenshin nodded in understanding.

“Very good,” Lady Yumi said. “Then get to work! We have only two weeks until the ball and everything has to be perfect by then!”

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“Oof!” Miss Megumi grunted.

Kenshin cringed but kept pulling the corset strings tighter. “Just a little more,” she murmured in consolation.

“It’s fine. I can handle it,” Megumi answered.

“Don’t get too sentimental, Kenshin.” Lady Yumi’s voice carried behind the folding screen. “Nothing less than perfect figure will do! The dress must fit Megumi like a glove. This is not an ordinary ball, but a battlefield for fashion and beauty.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Kenshin demurred and went back to the upper row of Miss Megumi’s corset strings, tugging them tighter as commanded. She didn’t quite like the look of determined endurance settling on Miss Megumi’s brow, but what could she do? Miss Megumi had her part to play and that was acting the obedient daughter to her benefactor, Lady Yumi.

Miss Megumi’s hand clenched on the back of an armchair she was holding for balance. “Kenshin,” she whispered softly, half a request, half a demand like she was intentionally trying to distract herself.

Kenshin winced, understanding the need. When laced this tightly, the corset could be downright painful. “Yes, Miss Megumi?”

“I never quite figured it out, but you were a noble, too – weren’t you?”

“…er,” Kenshin paused, taken aback. In general, she didn’t like to talk about herself, but she couldn’t quite avoid a direct question without appearing rude. “Well, technically – you could say that, that you could.”

“You hesitate because you were adopted?” Megumi bit out, her fingers clenching on the chair’s backrest.

“Um,” Kenshin cringed. “That is to say…”

“Megumi, don’t bother the poor thing. Such sordid family history ought to be uncomfortable to talk about.” Lady Yumi’s voice interrupted them. “But as it is something that might be useful for you to know, I’ll tell you. It’s a nice little secret, too. Not many follow Yamatoan news in that sort of detail or remember that far back. You see, the man who adopted our Kenshin was the heir of the great Seijuurou legacy and fortunes, Lord Hiko Seijuurou the 13th. You remember him, don’t you, Megumi? The crusty, arrogant codger who turned down my lord husband’s generous offer for an alliance?”

“Oh.” Megumi gasped. “So that’s who…”

Kenshin swallowed and hid her eyes behind her bangs. “What Lady Yumi says is true, so it is.”

“Of course it is.” Lady Yumi said pointedly. “My information is always accurate. But in any case, Megumi – we don’t need to associate with Lord Seijuurou anymore. That man is the type of a man who never listens to anyone but himself. No wonder he drove Kenshin to the streets after learning of his delusions.” She shook her head. “Well, not many people can understand why a young man would want to wear dresses like our Kenshin, now can they?”

“But that isn’t…” Kenshin bit the inside of her lip, trying to hold back her instinctive retort. It took a moment, but she managed to gather herself. She exhaled through gritted teeth and returned lacing Miss Megumi’s corset with swift, precise tugs.

“This one ran away on her own, that she did,” Kenshin muttered, keeping her voice so soft that it wouldn’t carry across the room. Lady Yumi would never understand, but Miss Megumi – she was the closest thing Kenshin had for a friend and she couldn’t let her misunderstand a matter like this. “Even at his best, Hiko was a difficult man, true,” Kenshin explained quietly. “But he only ever wanted the best for this one, that he did. Even to this day, this one isn’t sure if Hiko knows why this one left.”

Miss Megumi hummed, a consolation in her tone, “But why did you leave then? Without a word, no less? Surely that’s too… drastic?”

Kenshin looked aside, the shame and guilt twisting in her belly like snakes coiling tight. It had happened nearly thirteen years ago, and still, the memory made her feel so very small. “Hiko… Hiko was the person this one looked up to and respected, more than anything. The last thing on earth this one wanted to do was to cause him a disappointment, but this one simply couldn’t be the son he wanted, that’s all.”

“But don’t you think–” Miss Megumi bit her lip, and started again. “If you could, would you tell him now?”

Kenshin closed her eyes. “I… I don’t know.” She shook her head and clarified, “one would want to, certainly – but it’s been much too long since then. It’d bring him nothing but grief at this late date, that it would.”

“I see,” Miss Megumi murmured.

In resounding silence, Kenshin laced the corset of Miss Megumi’s bodice, too and then tied the strings to a neat little bow. Finally, she turned around and took the magnificent, rich purple evening gown down from the dress stand beside them and helped Miss Megumi to pull it over her undergarments.

For an old dress, was in a very good condition. No one would have known how terrible it had looked last week when Kenshin had dug it out of the attic storage, all mottled and yellowed. Now, not a hint of stain remained in white lace of the sleeve’s accent, nor was a single stitch of embroidery loose or frayed. It had been tough work, washing and repairing the gown, then ironing it to such perfection. Now Kenshin could only exhale in relief, proud of her achievement.

Miss Megumi stepped in front of the mirror. “I think this is it,” she decided.

Lady Yumi walked around Miss Megumi, eyeing her critically. “Yes, you might be right. Your figure is perfect and that purple brings out your paleness and contrasts well with your colors. It’s old enough that the style is ready for rebirth; it’s no longer shabby but excitingly different. It’s almost shade to shade with our house’s official colors, too, which should work nicely in proclaiming our status at the ball.”

The Lady paused to hum thoughtfully. “I shall have to wear something complimentary, too.” She glanced at Kenshin. “Good work, Kenshin. I shall have to figure out something nice to reward you for this.”

“About that,” Miss Megumi smiled, eying Kenshin through the reflection of the mirror. “Why don’t we take Kenshin to the ball with us? She could wear one of my last season’s gowns.”

“Oro!” Kenshin froze, thoroughly surprised. Where had Miss Megumi gotten such an impossible idea?

Even Lady Yumi paused. “Why would you suggest that?”

Megumi turned around and motioned towards Kenshin. “You said so yourself – didn’t you, Mother? Every unattached, eligible woman under the age of thirty is invited. Kenshin was adopted by a noble family. That’s a status far more eligible than a merchant’s or landowner’s daughter and we certainly wouldn’t lose anything having one more pair of eyes on our side. This ball is an unprecedented opportunity to catch the Prince’s interest, so I’m sure there will be plenty of upstarts trying to tilt the scale to their favor through any means necessary.”

“You have a point,” Lady Yumi agreed slowly. Then, quick as lightning, she snapped, “Kenshin! You are still under the age of thirty, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yes?” Kenshin hesitated. “That is to say,” she swallowed and then counted on her fingers, just to make sure. “Um, this one is twenty-nine, that she is.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Fetch a gown and we will see if any of them can be adjusted to fit. You are a fair bit shorter than Megumi and we’ve got no time to make significant alterations.”

Kenshin resolutely didn’t ‘eep’, but gods, did she feel like it. The Prince’s grand ball? Lady Yumi and Miss Megumi were thinking of taking her with them? She’d have a chance to see a real, live ball for the first time as a woman? She could get to enjoy the live music, watch the dances and all the beautiful women dressed to their best? Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat at the thought and for a second, she felt such yearning that her throat tightened, making it impossible to breathe. Her knees grew weak—

But then, Miss Megumi slipped past her and winked at her slyly. What are you waiting for? Come on! Her smile seemed to say.

And Kenshin exhaled in relief, rushing after her to the walk-in closet where most of Miss Megumi’s recent dresses were stored. As fitting of a young lady partaking to all social gatherings of the season, Miss Megumi couldn’t wear the same gown twice – which meant that she had to have dozens of dresses, all arranged by type of an event, a timing of the event and season in question.

Miss Megumi browsed through her collection of evening gowns, picking one made in red silk and rich embroideries and held it up for inspection. “What do you think?”

“Ah, well,” Kenshin didn’t want to protest, but she remembered that gown – it had been one of the more expensive ones Lady Yumi had ever bought for her new daughter, a fancy dress where embroideries had been made with real gold thread. Even now, a year out of fashion, it drew eyes. It was far too fine for a servant to wear, no matter what her origins might be.

“Um, isn’t that far too bold a color?” Kenshin demurred, lifting her left hand’s fingers to fiddle with a longer strand of her vivid red hair peeking under her headscarf.

Thankfully, Miss Megumi caught the hint. “If you say so,” she murmured and put the dress back to rack, only to pick another, a satin number made in lush forest green shade. Miss Megumi had worn it only once and for a good reason: it was very simplified for an evening gown and they had found out a bit too late that the rich color was very difficult to match with any jewelry.

“How about this one?”

Kenshin bit her lip, stepping closer to touch the silky fabric. “Well, if you don’t think it’s too much…”

“Of course not,” Miss Megumi huffed. “I was the one who suggested this, wasn’t it? Now, let’s do this! Take off your uniform and I’ll help this on you.”

A wave of panic flashed inside Kenshin and her smile grew fixed. She hadn’t undressed before anyone in years. Not even to her undergarments; the chaste pantaloons, petticoat, and bodice that came up high enough to push up her pectorals to form a fairly believable likeness to real breast, albeit writ small. But then again, she had helped Miss Megumi and Lady Yumi to put on these elaborate dresses for countless times and they had accepted her presence, even knowing perfectly well that she was not exactly like most women in the body.

And obviously, one couldn’t lace up a proper gown alone…

“Um, thank you – Miss Megumi,” Kenshin murmured. Swallowing down the wave of nausea stirring at the pit of her stomach, she drew her hands behind her, tugging loose the apron she usually wore over her modest, black maid’s dress.

She was about to raise her hands over her head to unbutton the dress’ high collar, when Miss Megumi said, “let me help.”

Nimble fingers tackled the row of buttons at the nape of her neck…. and never once in her life, had Kenshin felt quite so terrified. The absurd fears and anxiety stirred inside her, raising their ugly heads. What if Miss Megumi realized just how wrong she was in the body? How much of a liar she truly was? What if she would come to hate her?

Out of all Shishio household, Miss Megumi was the only one who didn’t hesitate to treat Kenshin as a woman.

The rest, well… Lord Shishio and Lord Soujiro found her an amusing freak, a man so desperately wanting to bed another man that he had started dressing up as a woman. Kenshin had never protested their assertions or tried to explain the shameful truth – that no matter what clothes she might wear or call herself, she wasn’t after a man.

No, she was after no one.

Though, if she had to confess; what drew her eye had always been other women, even if calling it attraction was too strong a term. The fact was that Kenshin had never once dared to entertain a notion that another woman could want her in turn, so her feelings could be at best summed as wistful thoughts.

Perhaps, Lady Yumi was closest to the truth, thinking Kenshin a harmless, neuter thing, too deep in her delusions to even desire love.

“All done,” Miss Megumi proclaimed. “Now, step out of that dress and let’s pull this on you, hmm?”

Kenshin blinked slowly, the world aligning to its place out of sudden. A shiver raced through her spine as she registered the draft on her naked shoulders and upper back. Her gut lurched and she felt like throwing up, but now – now was far too late to protest.

She slipped the loose, untied dress away from her shoulders and stepped out of it, taking her time to fold it neatly.

Then, she turned around; arms huddled in front of her chest.

Miss Megumi didn’t even blink. Like, not for a second, did she feel there was anything strange about Kenshin’s body at all. Instead, she handed her a crinoline and helped her to put it around her waist, huffing in disapproval as she had to improvise the fastenings to make them tighter. “You need to eat more. You are thinner than young girls who are still waiting for their first periods.”

Somehow, it felt good, to be treated like she was just another woman. Kenshin looked down; feeling a little overwhelmed by everything and fought back a smile.

“This one eats aplenty,” she protested softly.

“Liar,” Miss Megumi huffed fondly. “Now, hands up and let’s hope this gown can be tightened enough to show off that tiny waist of yours.”

Obediently, Kenshin let Megumi help the gown over her head, and feeling it fall down around her, enveloping her in that smooth, silky fabric… it felt like a dream. She blinked, not entirely sure why her eyes were misted.

“There we go.” Miss Megumi said fondly. “Now, turn around and I’ll lace this up. While I’m doing that, take down your hair, would you? I bet it will contrast this dress nicely.”

It helped, to have Miss Megumi be so matter-of-fact about this and it allowed Kenshin to gather her nerves, to focus on the matter at hand. She tugged off her headscarf and unpinned her long hair from the tight bun she usually wore it in. It was too long, too eye-catching to be left loose. The last thing she wanted was to attract needless attention. It was enough for people to glance at her and look away in disinterest, seeing nothing but a maid running an errand.

She felt, rather than heard Miss Megumi’s struggles in lacing up the gown – it was a little too large for Kenshin. They all knew that. A bit too long in the hem, bit too wide in the waist, but that’s why most gowns had lacings, to help in adjusting the fit.

Then it was done.

Miss Megumi walked around her, looking at her up and down. “My, my…” She smiled. “You clean up pretty.”

“Oro?” Kenshin looked up, surprised. Had she heard that right?

Instead of explaining more, Miss Megumi nodded in a decision. “This is going to be perfect.” Then, she headed to the living room, obviously expecting Kenshin to follow.

The shoes Kenshin wore in-house were the comfortable, modest slippers, far from the high heels ladies wore with evening gowns like this. Fearing the hem would drag the floor, Kenshin lifted it with both hands as she rushed to follow Miss Megumi. However, she didn’t make it but a few feet in the living room, when a loud gasp rang out.

Lady Yumi stared at her with wide eyes, her hand covering her mouth. “Kenshin…?” She asked faintly, as though she had gotten the shock of her life.

“Ma’am?” Kenshin hesitated.

Miss Megumi walked to Kenshin’s side, smiling smugly as a cat with a saucer of cream. “What do you think, mother?” She asked. “Wouldn’t you say Kenshin passes the muster?”

Lady Yumi frowned, looking at Kenshin – then at Megumi, then at Kenshin again. And suddenly, her eyes narrowed, as if in anger?

Why would she be angry?

Kenshin’s shivered, a sense of evil premonition rushing through her. Had she done something wrong? But all she had done was what Miss Megumi had asked of her, what even Lady Yumi had agreed to…

“No.” Lady Yumi’s voice was as cool as arctic ice. “Forget it. What would people think if we took our resident freak to the event of the year? A man deluding himself by thinking he is a woman… we would be laughed off the court!”

Miss Megumi inhaled sharply. “Mother…”

“You are too kind, my daughter, when you encourage Kenshin’s delusions. Harsh as it may be, the truth is better. Kenshin is not and never will be a woman.” Lady Yumi sneered and marched to the door, holding it open. “Kenshin, take that dress off and burn it. Megumi is too good to wear a dress someone else has worn. Then go and clean the cellars. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”

Each word struck like whiplash, burning like salt and acid on wounds. It hurt. It hurt far worse than any insult Kenshin had suffered in years to have a woman she had thought accepted her in some level to turn on her and tear down the trust they had built between them. Kenshin walked past her slowly, barely holding back the anguish and and anger threatening to overtake her by a storm.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Kenshin covered her face to her hands, gasped softly… only to realize she was crying. For the first time in thirteen years, ever since she had run away from Hiko and the only place she had called her home, she was crying.

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Prince Kaoru gazed down to the patio, where maids, servants, and other workers were rushing back and forth, busy with the preparations for the grand ball – the event of the decade, as many had taken to calling it.

Only two days left… and so much to do.

She sighed tiredly.

She should have never agreed to this madness.

These past two weeks had been the most stressful of her life, and that was saying something! Now, make no mistake, normally Kaoru even enjoyed the hustle. But this time, it seemed everyone and their grandmother had taken a far too personal interest in everything Kaoru did, trying to gauge hints on how to prepare their daughters for the task of catching her interest.

If Kaoru asked for a second slice of cake, attentive ears caught it and passed it down the rumor mill as a good topic to mention during a conversation over tea. If her eye happened to linger a second too long on anyone of the feminine disposition, attentive eyes noticed it and made sure every bit of that poor girl’s looks was analyzed to the bone and her most prominent choices expertly replicated the following day by half a dozen contenders. Hell, the most ridiculous example of this was the damn scarf Kaoru had taken to wearing couple weeks ago with her uniform. It had been a nice, blue silk scarf and she had fancied it looked good – but the rumor mill had taken notice and now, it was said there was no scrap of blue or blue shaded fabric left in town as every tailor had been booked to make blue evening gowns.

Hopefully, the ladies would take notice of the trend in time and pick something else to wear, or the whole crowd would come to the ball wearing shades of blue.

Kaoru shook her head in exasperation and turned around, leaning her arms against the balcony railing behind her.

The grand ballroom was a bit quieter than the outdoor patio, a bit more finished in decoration. Many nobles were present, handling the preparations for their gifts. The term “gift”, of course, was at best a polite fiction. An event like this was a huge drain on the King’s resources and as such, the organization costs were shared with wealthier nobles in the manner of gifted decorations, catering and other things that were necessary for an event meant to include hundreds of guests. This was no one-way street, by any means. Showcasing their fiefs products’ and artisan’s best efforts often resulted in increased sales revenue and resulting tax money for the nobles.

Prince Kaoru was just about to leave, when she caught a sight of a tall, strikingly beautiful woman making her way towards Lord Hiko Seijuurou the 13th. Lord Hiko had been very demanding about the handling of his fief’s famed master potter Niitsu Kakunoshin’s artworks for the whole morning, so much that no one in the hall would have dared to interrupt him. Yet, this young lady did – boldly and unapologetically.

Kaoru blinked.

She was too far away to overhear their exchange but damned if she wasn’t interested.

Lord Hiko had a well-established – and well-deserved – reputation as a confirmed bachelor. For all his wealth, fame and good connections with King Koshijirou, he was known as a particularly abrasive, arrogant man, who didn’t suffer stupidity for a moment. Hiko had made no secret of his lack of interest in marital matters, either. Because of this, most ladies warned their daughters to stay away from him.

So, to see a young lady – and what was that young lady’s name? Kaoru was sure she had seen her somewhere before – approaching Hiko on her own, to engage him to a discussion without a chaperone, it was interesting.

Kaoru frowned, studying the striking pair from a distance.

Hiko’s initial disdain was melting, only to be replaced by an honest curiosity.

The young lady smirked, looking up to meet his gaze fearlessly and then, pressed a letter to his hands. The young lady said something…

And Hiko paled, the letter grumbling in his massive fist.

The lady bobbed a slight curtsey and left without looking back.

Kaoru stared, studying the lady with an unabashed interest. It wasn’t often she saw a woman like that; beautiful and ballsy enough to take on a man like Hiko. Yet, why couldn’t she recognize her? The expensive dress the lady was wearing and the fact that she was here today, it meant she had to be of a noble rank – but of what family? Kaoru could have sworn she would recognize all the daughters of the noble families by this point…

Well, the mystery should be easily solved! Kaoru shook her head fondly, heading to chat up Hiko. It had been a while since she had exchanged a word with one of her father’s closest friends among Yamatoan nobility.

Lord Hiko didn’t visit the capital often, preferring to stay in his estate in Kyoto and keep an eye on the Makimachi family. However, he was a trusted ally and their best, unbiased opinion about Yamato’s true state after Ezzo had annexed them.

“Lord Seijuurou, I hope the travel fared you well,” Kaoru greeted him, noting how pale he still was. Truly remarkable. She hadn’t believed there was anything in the world that could render a man like him so obviously off-balance. Arrogant as Faustus, sharp-tongued and reclusive by nature, Hiko was a singular personality. In looks as well. In his mid-forties, he was still built like a brick wall, taller and more muscular than most men doing hard manual labor.

“Prince Kaoru,” Hiko rumbled. “I take you saw that…altercation?”

“I did,” Kaoru confirmed easily. “Believe me, when a young lady of good breeding approaches you – most people take notice. It’s not an everyday occurrence, after all.”

“Plenty of women approach me,” Hiko scoffed in disdain. “I merely don’t see any benefit in having a wife nag at me, as you well know.”

“So I understand,” Kaoru smiled. “However, I can admit I was curious as to what happened. That young lady, who was she?” She glanced at the crowd where the woman in question had disappeared.

“Got your interest, then?” Hiko raised his eyebrow and then looked at her seriously. “Give it up. That was Shishio Megumi, the girl Lady Shishio adopted to be her daughter.”

“Oh,” Kaoru gasped, having no trouble catching the distrustful sentiment in his words.

Even now, after two decades of hard work, dedication and painful compromises from her father, there were still tensions among Yamatoan and Ezzo nobility. There was no shortage of nobles, who would do anything to raise their own status and among those, Lord Shishio was considered the most likely to stir trouble. Resourceful, wily, yet with such connections that they couldn’t be entirely ignored… and worse, there was a rumor that the major burn wounds Lord Shishio had suffered on the last day of King Koshijirou’s war to unite Ezzo and Yamato were caused by a failed assassination attempt on behalf their own.

Those burn wounds restricted Lord Shishio’s movements to this day and were said to be a reason for his antagonistic attitude towards King Koshijirou.

Kaoru didn’t know why, but she suspected her father’s reluctance to appoint Lord Shishio to any politically significant post was born from that bad rep.

Yet, was a lord’s bad rep enough to scorn the whole family?

She had seen Lady Yumi working tirelessly for years to raise her influence in the court, visiting each and every event of the year. It was a dedication that Kaoru could respect, even if she had always steered clear from the family.

And this Megumi… She could be something different, indeed. If Kaoru couldn’t recognize her, this meant Lady Megumi had been adopted when she was already an adult in her own right. Which meant, that there was no way on earth that Megumi was yet another brainless ingénue taught to obey her mother’s beck and call.

Interesting, indeed.

“What are you thinking?” Hiko asked, pulling Kaoru from her thoughts.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Kaoru said. “However, if you don’t mind me asking – what was that business with the letter?”

“This?” Hiko raised the crumbled paper and scowled, “A personal attack or a personal favor. The hell if I can tell which.”

Kaoru blinked. “That sounds… sinister.”

“Hardly that,” Hiko looked aside, a strange look flashing in his eyes.

Sorrow? Anger? Something that was both and neither, but deep as an ocean. Kaoru shivered, struck by the weight of emotion.

“This is just an opportunity to solve a mystery that has bothered me for a long time.” Hiko mused softly, half to himself. “Thirteen years, I have spent wondering what I did wrong, and now, I have the means to find an answer. Yet, after all these years, what would it gain anyone if I went out there seeking the truth?”

“What would you lose?” Kaoru asked.

Hiko startled, turning to look at her. Obviously, he hadn’t expected an answer.

Kaoru looked up at him, her eyes serious. “Whatever that was, it’s obviously important for you – right? So, at least in my eyes, you should ask yourself what would you lose if you knew the answer?”

“Time,” Hiko huffed. Then, he shook his head. “Time and enough sake to get drunk afterward,” he grudgingly allowed.

“There you go.” Kaoru nodded, as it was decided.

“You have grown up awfully pushy, haven’t you?” Hiko stated. “But fine, I’ll think about it. Now hop along. Surely you got some other poor sod to bother than me.”

Kaoru grinned and waved a lazy salute to his direction, then left.

After all, she had her own mission to get to: finding out exactly what kind of a woman Miss Megumi Shishio was and could she become the bride the Crown Prince of the Kingdoms Yamato and Ezzo needed.

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Miss Megumi was beautiful. The purple evening gown brought out her perfect hourglass figure to the best effect. Her expensive, white gold jewelry and elaborate hairdo framed her carefully painted face like an exquisite artwork.

If that wasn’t enough to catch a Prince’s eye, then nothing was. Kenshin smiled wistfully as she watched through the attic’s windows as Miss Megumi and Lady Yumi step into their carriage. The driver bowed and closed the doors. He rose to his seat and waved his whip, spurring the four, matching bronze furred horses to trot. The carriage disappeared from the townhouse courtyard and melded to the street’s midday traffic. They were leaving early, hoping to avoid the rush.

Now, there was nothing left to do but to wait and hope for the best.

It would be the pinnacle of Lady Yumi’s ambition if her adopted daughter managed to enthrall Prince Kaoru. Such a match would be advantageous to Miss Megumi too. Perhaps even on a personal level.

Not that Kenshin claimed to know much about anything, but most people in the streets agreed that Prince Kaoru was good-mannered, well-read and altogether a charming man. No one certainly had anything but good things to mention about him. Well, if the occasional jokes about his lack of height weren’t counted – and Kenshin certainly didn’t; the punch line in those jokes hit a bit too close to home in her case.

So Kenshin dared to have a little faith.

If Miss Megumi succeeded tonight, she would have a life every young woman could only dream about.

Rubbing her knees to alleviate her aches and pains, Kenshin straightened. She was getting a bit too old to spy from the attic at the Lady of the house and her daughter. She had just wanted to see them off, but Lady Yumi was still angry at her and had told her to stay out of her sight. It was, of course, the Lady’s right. Kenshin had overstepped her boundaries rather badly and even now, Lady Yumi had shown no sign of forgiving her, so Kenshin had done her best to work when Lady Yumi couldn’t see her.

Grabbing her bucket and the broom from the closet, Kenshin headed down to the first floor. Now would be a perfect time to finish washing the hallway floors. Lady Yumi had been disappointed about her work earlier, so now she would have a chance to make the marble floors shine like a mirror. There would be no quests coming in, not tonight. Even Lord Shishio had retreated with Lord Soujiro to the countryside, not wishing to take part in a ‘women’s showmanship event.’

Not an entirely inaccurate statement, that.

From what Kenshin had understood from Miss Megumi, the only men partaking in the Prince Kaoru’s ball were either fathers, brothers, uncles or other relatives. That is, if the menfolk opted to go at all. Given the purpose of the ball was for the young ladies to try to catch the Prince’s eye, it seemed that quite a few women felt that coming in with a male chaperone was disadvantageous to their purposes.

Just for that, it would have been an interesting event to observe.

Kenshin smiled, but then shook her head firmly. No, she shouldn’t think about this. Despite her past, these days she was just a maid and a mere maid could never attend an event the Crown Prince of the kingdom had arranged to find a bride to be.

Kenshin dunked her broom to the bucket, wrung it mostly dry and started washing the floor with determinate, almost furious movements. It was far better to focus on her job, the job that quarantined her livelihood than waste time pondering about the impossible.

Yes.

You made your choices, knowing perfectly well how it would turn out and now you are just a maid.

And it was the right choice, no matter how much it hurt.

Never forget that.

The time flew. It was hard to say how long had passed, minutes or hours, but not long after, the sweat clung Kenshin’s dress to her back and tiny aches were becoming more pressing on her hips, on her waist and her ribs where her corset dug the worst pressure. Maybe she had pulled it too tight, too angry at herself to care of the practicalities?

She huffed angrily and straightened her back, digging couple fingers under the corset’s brim. It wasn’t that tight. Maybe she was just getting old that it got uncomfortable to crouch for longer periods of time when washing the hallways?

A decisive knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

What on earth?

No one should be coming tonight…

Well, perhaps it’s some door to door salesman or someone who has gotten lost? Kenshin bit her lip, swept her hands to her apron, straightened her skirt and hurried to answer the door.

“Yes? How might this one be of service?” Kenshin asked promptly, gazing up at the visitor’s face only to blanch white as a sheet.

“F-father,” She whispered in shock, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her. Those piercing dark eyes set in that ageless, handsome face. The towering height and sheer mass of his body, the outrageous white cape he wore to every event, even the sword he carried at his waist like it was a perfectly normal accessory for an outing to the town. It was like she had been swept decades to the past. Take away those lines around his mouth, those faint crow’s feet cornering his eyes and this was the same face she still dreamed about every now and then, imagining her adoptive father’s disappointment if she ever met him again.

Yes, in her dreams – he frowned just like this.

Kenshin’s knees buckled under her, and she fell to a deep begging bow, her forehead pressed to the harsh marble floor she had spent hours washing until it shone. She swallowed, her throat gone dry. She knew exactly what she should say. She should apologize and beg for forgiveness for abandoning his generosity and kindness, and then apologize once more, for leaving without a word. She had done everything wrong, offered the worst insult an adopted child could offer for their parent.

And yet, yet… the words refused to come.

Her throat felt too tight, her lips too dry. Her voice was not hers to command, not anymore, so she laid still, in that deep begging bow and hoped, hoped so fervently that it was enough.

The silence that fell between them was heavy, like a thick shroud drawn across old furniture to cover them from dust.

Finally, her father spoke. “This… This was why you left?”

Kenshin didn’t need to look up to know he had motioned to her with his right hand, palm open – accusatory, but not yet judging. Even now, she knew all his habits and gestures with the attentive familiarity of a student who had watched him for years upon years, hoping to copy even a sliver of his self-confidence. There was no need for her to look up, for she knew the disappointment that would be on his face now that he saw her like this, wearing a dress and corset just like another woman. The very thought of his gaze was enough to make her shiver.

“Yes,” She whispered, feeling smaller and more vulnerable than ever before. “I… I tried, but I couldn’t be the son you wanted.”

He hummed, his voice low and rumbling like earth shifting beneath their feet.

“So you left,” he said. “Never saying a word, never telling me why – you simply let me wonder for thirteen long years.”

He scoffed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

Kenshin flinched as if struck.

“You were always a coward.”

“It wasn’t cowardice!” Kenshin insisted, raised her head for the first time. “Please, sir – you have to understand!” And then the words just flooded out, like a torrent of emotion gushing out alongside tears and anguish she had been harboring inside for as long as she could remember, “I couldn’t become a disappointment to you! Not when you adopted me for a reason! The Hiten Mitsurugi sword style that has passed through your family for thirteen generations and the name of Hiko Seijuurou were so important to you, a legacy you wanted to honor. But I’m not Hiko Seijuurou the 14th, I never could be! That’s not who I am!”

Kenshin heaved for breath and looked down, gesturing to her chest and dress wildly. “This! This is who I am. I’m just Kenshin. That name you gave me the day you adopted me was more than enough for me! It was a sign that you wanted me, that even a freak like me was worth something. But had I stayed, had I told you all this… I would have become a burden to you, a mockery of all the things you valued and I couldn’t do that to you!”

Hiko’s face had become so still that it seemed like his features were carved out of marble, but then he looked at her, met her eyes directly, like he was seeing a person, not a memory, and his gaze grew strange. Soft, and almost like… had he actually listened to her?

Kenshin blinked like an owl. What? I must be more deluded than I realized because Hiko would never…

“You really are an idiot,” said Hiko at long last.

“Oro?”

“Only a self-sacrificial, overly dramatic idiot like you would think that running away from home would help their parent.” Hiko gave her a pointed, disapproving look. “I adopted you because I didn’t want to die without anyone to remember me. All men desire a legacy of a sort, even if they can’t stand to suffer a wife and the usual trouble that goes along making a family. Now stand up and let me have a look at you. It’s been years since I have seen my child and you are far from the sixteen-year-old I remember.”

“…Oro?” Kenshin gaped, unable to come up with anything more coherent to say.

Slowly, she climbed to her feet. Feeling rather awkward, she smoothed down the creases on her dress and apron, as to give something for her hands to do while Hiko walked around her, studying her intently like she had seen him studying vases and bowls from finest potters he wanted to use as an inspiration for his own artwork.

“You still don’t eat enough,” Hiko concluded. “What have I told you about skipping the meals for your other interest?”

Kenshin looked aside, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. She had no trouble remembering the lecture: Hiko had told her that if she skipped meals, she would never grow past the average height for women. Those words had been meant as a mortifying barb at the time. After all, for most young men the very idea of being shorter than girls was abhorrent, but for Kenshin… well, it had never quite hit the mark, even if she had to endure her share of teasing from her contemporaries about the subject afterward.

“It’s not such a hardship, being short,” Kenshin said softly, glancing up through her lashes. “Most women are.”

Hiko grimaced, acknowledging her jab. “So I see.”

Kenshin studied the slew of expressions flitting through Hiko’s face as he tried to process through this change of dynamic between them. They were not the father and son they had been, nor could they ever again have that same relationship. For all Hiko’s genius intellect, for his artistic ability and tremendous self-confidence that bordered on arrogance – Hiko was used to relying on his perfect recall, his ability to pick up details from his impressive memory that most people would have forgotten.

But now, he couldn’t do that – simply because Kenshin was not who she had been. Nor was Kenshin willing to fold and give up any of the hard-won understanding of herself she gained during these harsh years. No, she knew now who she was and she wouldn’t give that up for anything, not even for Hiko.

“You really think you are a woman, then?” Hiko asked, a hint of hesitance entering his eyes. “It’s not an act?”

“No. It’s not an act,” Kenshin said quietly. “It’s not a game or something this one could just give up, either.” She took a pause, inhaled sharply and motioned to her body. “I, ah… I always was a woman. I know it’s not normal, but…” She shook her head. “I just am.”

Hiko looked at her for a moment, then slowly – nodded. “Alright.”

Kenshin looked up, “Sir?”

“If that’s what you say, then that’s how it is,” Hiko stated firmly like he was speaking of the stars on the sky, or the rising tide or any phenomenon that a man couldn’t change, only adapt to. Like for him, it really was that simple.

It was terrifying.

Since Kenshin first met Hiko, he had loomed over her as a personality that was larger than life. He was a demanding man who didn’t suffer for fools. Even on his best days, he didn’t have the patience for people, for listening to their woes. For years Kenshin had struggled to achieve anything he had wanted from her, to be worthy of all he had given to her. But never once had she entertained a notion that he could believe her and accept her as she was.

Except… somehow, he had.

Why?

Kenshin gaped, unable to comprehend it. Had Hiko changed during these years?

…Or did I just never give him the chance to accept me?

The thought made her feel faint and her knees wavered under her weight as might-have-beens rushed through her mind. She had been sixteen years old, heartbroken and terrified, all but suffocating under the weight of expectations. But what if there had been other options she just hadn’t seen? What if she never had to run away from home? What if all her hard choices, loneliness, and grief had been for nothing? Nausea stirred and for a second, Kenshin was sure she would be sick. Oh, gods! Just how many things could have been different had I just tried back then?

A strong arm caught her, steadying her before she could fall. “Calm down, idiot,” the low voice rumbled. “What’s done is done and there’s no changing it.”

It was thoroughly unfair how easy it was to relax into that hold, to believe those words and fight through the haze of panic and regrets threatening to envelop her.

Kenshin closed her eyes and swallowed, “Yes, sir.”

Hiko pushed her to straighten, then sought out her eyes and uttered slowly, purposefully, “Good girl.”

Just two words and Kenshin felt like she could cry. Blinking through the mist in her eyes, she smiled. “You mean it. You really mean it.”

“Of course I do. I don’t make a habit of lying,” Hiko huffed but looked aside – as if he was somewhat uncomfortable. But that was alright. He was trying. Out of all people, Hiko Seijuurou the 13th was trying and that meant more than words could convey.

Overwhelmed by the realization, Kenshin reached to hug him.

She could feel how he stiffened in her grip, but he endured it for briefest of moments before pushing her away. She wasn’t deterred by the least. With him, it had always been the little things that mattered. He had never been an emotional man. So she let him step back and gather himself in peace, retreat to his reserved, brusque manners.

Hiko glanced around the hallway, his eyes landing on the bucket and broomstick Kenshin had abandoned to the floor in her hurry to answer the door. “This work of yours… is it important for you?”

“Oro?”

“You do realize that no child of mine needs to work for their living?” Hiko asked, a hint of distaste appearing on his face, “At least, not in such a… insignificant job.”

“There’s nothing shameful about doing housework, that there isn’t,” Kenshin protested.

“I never said there was,” Hiko replied mildly. “However, you are my daughter and I am not without means to provide for you. Your room at the manor is still the same when you left. You could come back to Kyoto with me and think through what you want for your life instead of the choices you have made to support yourself.”

It mattered, that he was asking. Hiko of her childhood wouldn’t have bothered. He would have just ordered her to pack up and whisked her away to the night without as much as a warning.

However, Kenshin was not the child she had been either.

“I… This one appreciates your offer, that one does,” Kenshin said softly. “But could this one have some time to think about it? This one’s work… ah, that’s to say, this one has obligations here. It would be beyond rude, just go and leave milady and milord without capable house-help. One would at least prefer to help them find a replacement and train the new maid as to make the disruption to milady’s routine as slight as possible, that one would.”

“That’s…” Hiko’s distaste was obvious. “Well, if you think that’s necessary.”

Kenshin bopped a little curtsey, “Thank you, sir.”

“Hmmph! Stop that!”

Kenshin tensed.

“Not with the girlishness,” Hiko scowled, but then corrected himself, “it’s unnecessary for you to act so formal with me. You’re not just a maid, but my daughter, are you not? At the very least, I’d like to get to know you – as you are now – better.”

A relieved smile inched up to Kenshin lips. “Aa,” she agreed. “This one would like that too, um – father.”

“Good.” Hiko cleared his throat. “It seems I’ll be staying here longer than I originally planned for.”

“You are? But you hate the capital!”

“Well, how else am I going to get to spend any time with you? Or get a chance to spoil you rotten?” Hiko shrugged, a touch awkward. “Most old coots at the court claim there is no other way to please their daughters than to gift them with extravaganza. Not that I ever imagined having a daughter, but… eh, it seems I need to learn.”

Gifts? Extravaganza? With each word, Kenshin’s eyes flew wider. “No, sir! You needn’t buy this one anything! It’s enough that you are here, that it is!”

“Hush now. If I feel like buying you gifts, you will just smile and accept them. That’s how any woman with manners behaves.” Hiko eyed her, “Or need I hire you a tutor in ladies manners as well?”

Kenshin paled. “No, no need to!”

“Hmm. We will see.” Hiko’s lips curled to a pleased smile. “It ought to be a learning experience – for both of us, I wager – to get you introduced to the court and start partaking in all those socializing events the ladies arrange through the season. Well, better you than me. From what I understand, the highborn ladies gossip circle is uncanny at picking up information that I usually would have to hire spies for.”

“…Sir?”

Hiko waved his hand dismissively. “I have been keeping an ear out for hints of potential dissidence among Yamato’s nobility for King Kamiya for quite some time. You ought to be able to help me with it.”

“Ah,” Kenshin blinked. That, that actually explained a great deal about Hiko’s actions in the past, mainly how he had pushed Kenshin to try to befriend younger sons of Yamatoan nobility and partake in their hunting trips during the last years she had lived with him. It had been very uncomfortable. Despite her best tries, Kenshin had never been anything but a short, shy and ‘sissy’ outsider among them.’

“Speaking of introducing you to the court,” Hiko muttered, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “We really ought to get going. It’s going to be a rush job, but I think we should be able to manage to get you ready.”

“Oro?” Kenshin shook of her bad memories and focused on the present. “What do you mean, sir?”

“The ball,” Hiko stated as if it was a particularly stupid question. “Prince Kaoru is arranging the event of the year tonight.”

“But…” Kenshin gasped. “But, I’m not a-“

“You are my daughter, are you not? The prince’s invitation was clear. Every unattached, eligible lady under the age thirty should attend. It would be a scandal like no other should I try to introduce my daughter to the court if I didn’t bring her to the event of the year. So make yourself ready and let’s get going. I’ll go to alert my driver.” Hiko spun around and marched away, his white cape flowing behind him.

Kenshin was left staring after him, struggling to pry her jaw off the floor.

The ball?

Hiko wanted to take her to the ball?

But, but… she was a maid. She had obligations!

“Oh gods,” Kenshin whispered to herself. “What should I do?”

Her gaze landed on the bucket and broomstick she had abandoned to the floor and marble tiles that were cleaner than they had been in all the time she had worked in Shishio household. The townhouse was empty. There would be no guests coming in tonight. No one would know if she left work early and took part to an event alongside hundreds of other women.

And the fact was… she wanted to go.

It was that simple.

A small, juvenile smile rose to her lips and Kenshin grabbed her cleaning tools, then rushed off to put them away and change to her street clothes.

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So far Prince Kaoru had concluded that Miss Megumi Shishio was not only staggeringly beautiful but also deeply intelligent, cunning and independent enough that her loyalty might be seduced… and just about the most frightening woman Kaoru had ever met. Not like the unsuitable women that bards and storytellers described in the horror stories. No, Megumi was most definitely in her right mind and while she clearly had her own plots and machinations, she was no black widow hunting for a mate to use for her own gain.

No, what raised Kaoru’s shackles was something far more subtle.

During these two dances they had shared, never once had Megumi’s gaze wandered away from Kaoru. Her dark eyes studied Kaoru like she was something strange and mysterious that needed to be analyzed and categorized. Every gesture Kaoru made, every word she said, Megumi noted and responded with something mild, unassuming that didn’t give a hint what her personal thoughts about the subject were.

It made Megumi an easy conversation partner. Kaoru could talk to her about anything, from politics, popular gossip to relevant events and Megumi would always say the right thing encourage Kaoru to talk more. There was nothing wrong with it. Hell, most young men would gulp up all that unrivaled attention and just run with it, thinking they had found the perfect woman. Even for Kaoru, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience.

It was just… it left her feeling like she was talking to a mirror that showed her only what she wanted to see.

Kaoru bit the inside of her cheek, realizing perfectly well how silly she was being right now. For all intents and purposes, Megumi was everything she had been looking in her bride-to-be. She had the looks, the brains, the family connections – if Kaoru had written a list of an ideal wife for the Crown Prince to have, Megumi would have met all her standards with ease.

And yet, she couldn’t help but to feel something was missing here.

“What about you, Miss Megumi?” Kaoru ventured out to ask, drawing a charming smile to her lips. “What is that piques your interest? You must have heard more than you ever wanted to know about my hobbies and likes by now.”

“Oh, it has been a pleasure listening to you,” Megumi answered, her eyes flickering with a hint of surprise. But smoothly, she continued on, never once wavering on the elaborate steps they were dancing. “As what comes to me, I enjoy reading in my spare time.”

Finally! Some personality at last! “Oh?” Kaoru smiled encouragingly, “What subjects do you enjoy?”

Megumi tensed slightly, a reaction so subtle Kaoru wouldn’t have caught it if she had not been holding to her waist.

“Sometimes I like reading the popular plays.” Megumi demurred, looking aside for the briefest of moments. It was an obvious signal. This was something Megumi didn’t wish to talk about, but Kaoru’s curiosity was piqued.

“Who wouldn’t? Fantastic tales are perfect for quiet evenings.” Kaoru answered easily and then, quite rudely – decided to inquire. “But such a light-hearted topic cannot be where your heart lies. Please, no need to hesitate on my account. I’d like to get know you better.”

“Ah,” Megumi murmured. “Well, in that case…” She frowned and met Kaoru’s eyes directly. “I study medicine. Was I a man, I would be an acknowledged doctor by now – but I am not, so I’m just a discreet healer for my lord father’s ailments and other, ah, sensitive illnesses that my family or our family’s allies may have fallen ill with.”

“That’s,” Kaoru paused, deeply shocked by the admission. Women were forbidden from studying sciences or seeking out an acclaimed profession in those fields. It was something Kaoru’s father had been trying to change for over a decade now, but even if there had been no public trial against a woman healer or physicist in years, it was still very much a taboo subject, especially for a noble lady. For Megumi to admit to such a thing, it was something that could easily destroy her reputation.

Kaoru swallowed, one, twice, then started again. “I understand. My lips are sealed, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Megumi inclined her head. “I’d appreciate your discretion.”

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Kaoru looked aside but continued to lead their dance in silence. It wasn’t that she held Megumi’s admission against her. She didn’t. No, if anything – learning this detail made Kaoru respect Megumi even more. She truly was an intelligent and brave woman who would have no trouble playing the games the court nobles lived and breathed.

But the thing was; the one reason why Kaoru had never seriously entertained the thought of becoming publicly known as Princess Kaoru was that as a man she didn’t need to deal with the archaic bullshit women of her caste had to endure. All her life, she had been able to circumvent the trouble that Megumi had faced head-on. So how could she respond to a statement like that? How could she meet the eyes of a woman who had the balls to do something she had always avoided?

The dance ended, the orchestra starting up another, far more light-hearted tempo. However, Kaoru didn’t have the heart for another dance, not right now.

She braved a smile, “perhaps a drink, my lady?”

“Please,” Megumi demurred, eyeing her intently – like she was trying to figure out why Kaoru had reacted as she had.

A shiver raced down Kaoru’s spine and for a moment, she felt an awkward need to check that her chest binder and codpiece were in place, that she hadn’t inadvertently given away her secret. A stupid, irrational fear. Nothing of the sort could happen; she knew it all too well. Kaoru straightened to her full height of five feet one, looked up to Megumi’s eyes, eerily aware how high she had to look up and offered her arm to her.

Megumi took it easily and allowed her to be led.

Usually having a partner that was taller than her wasn’t something Kaoru disdained. No, Kaoru quite liked the thrill of escorting tall ladies. Perhaps it was because she was not a man, who had to suffer from a man’s ego? For her, the identity of a prince was just a game she had chosen to play. An elaborate act that allowed her freedoms her true gender never would. So whenever people made jokes about her lack of height, how she was always the shortest among her male friends – it never mattered to her.

But now, she couldn’t help but feel awkward, like she was somehow ill at the place, a puppet dancing out choreography that she didn’t quite like.

The feeling was blatantly ridiculous.

She was the Crown Prince of the Kingdoms of Yamato and Ezzo. She needed to have a wife. Miss Megumi Shishio fit to all the standards she could name and more, she was someone Kaoru could easily come to respect. But why, why did she feel like she was settling for something less than perfect?

What else could there be to a marriage than finding a partner that fulfilled your needs?

Megumi would be perfect socially, politically – hell, she was also attractive! Kaoru knew herself well enough that in a right mood, with little prompting, she would have no trouble at all partaking acts between lovers with a woman like Megumi. Should Megumi be interested in such things, of course.

So what was she missing here?

Infatuation?

The thought brought a thinly veiled grimace to Kaoru’s lips, and she grabbed two glasses of champagne from the waiter’s tray, offering the other one for Miss Megumi.

Megumi accepted it coolly, her dark gaze lingering on Kaoru’s face, studying her.

“For your beauty,” Kaoru toasted, flirting a little just to distract herself from her irrelevant thoughts.

Megumi raised her brow but toasted as well. “For luck.”

The champagne was dry on Kaoru’s tongue; dry and far too sweet and altogether unappealing. She chucked it down nevertheless. What was with her tonight? Sure, her father had been preaching about the virtues of marrying someone you could love for quite some time, but how could she even consider doing that? She was the Crown Prince. Her marriage would have consequences for the well-being and future of her country, no matter how she tried to spin it.

Letting her heart rule in a matter like this, it would be irresponsible and dangerous. Stupid. Besides, her heart had the worst taste ever! All her teenage crushes had been so blatantly unsuitable that it wasn’t even funny. Her first crush, at the tender age of thirteen, had been a stable boy with an easy smile and silly jokes. Gods, the boy would have pissed himself if he realized Prince was going riding every day and hanging around the stables just to sneak a peek at him in work!

Or what about that charming maid, who had sneaked sweets from the kitchens to her younger sisters waiting at the gates? The court ladies would have eaten her alive had Kaoru dared to show any outward interest towards her! As it was, having sixteen-year-old Prince stumbling across her every other day, and inquiring after her days had been enough to bring the poor girl to the point of a nervous breakdown!

No, the fact was that Kaoru didn’t have the option of following her heart, no less trusting it to make any reasonable choices.

The importance of infatuation and love were severely overrated, anyways. One could have a perfectly good marriage with a partner chosen with reason and logic. The important emotions: trust, loyalty, and caring were cultivated over time, like building a relationship from the ground up into something magnificent.

A soft gasp from her side startled Kaoru.

Megumi was looking over Kaoru’s shoulder, towards the staircase, a victorious smile rising to her lips. “You really made it,” she whispered, “Kenshin.”

Her date wasn’t the only one looking that way, either. Quite a few heads had turned to watch at – was that Hiko Seijuurou the 13th?

And on his arm…

Kaoru paused to stare at a stunning, red-haired young lady.

Even from that first glance, Kaoru could tell she had never seen that young lady before. She would have remembered her. That long red-hair was bright like a silk spun of scarlet fire and her pale skin shone in stark contrast to it. Soulful eyes, lush lips, high cheekbones and sharp chin; even at the distance her face was memorable and strikingly beautiful, but in a way that was unapologetically different from the classical idea of beauty.

The same could be said about her dress.

Eye-catching and bright, the magenta evening gown with white and pink flower decorations at the bosom stood out of the mass with ease. Among hundreds of dresses tailored in Kaoru’s favorite colors; all the shades of blue from navy, indigo to turquoise, and few done in green or yellow – that bright magenta stood out and shone with a personality that was unique to its wearer.

Who would have thought a redhead could wear such a bright shade of pink and make it look good?

And Kaoru didn’t even like pink.

“My apologies,” said Megumi and curtseyed to her. “Could we continue our discussion later? I’m afraid I have an important matter to attend to.”

Kaoru blinked in surprise. “Of course, if that’s what my lady wishes.”

Megumi inclined her head and ventured off towards the lady in pink with a purpose in her steps.

It took several seconds before it dawned on Kaoru that she had been ditched. For the first time in her life, she had been ditched by a woman. Kaoru couldn’t help but grin ruefully, “Ballsy lady, indeed.” Then she glanced down at her champagne glass, grimaced and left it to the side table. At a polite distance, many young women were eyeing her with interest, few of them whispering to their escorts – obviously wondering should they try to catch her eye now that she was by all appearances alone again.

It would be the smart thing to do; to chat with a few of them, maybe take one or two for a spin on the dance floor. It would soothe some bruised egos and smooth down the awkwardness, make a pretense that everything was going as planned.

If she were to follow after Megumi now… it would look desperate. Like Megumi had caught her attention, shaken her and now Kaoru was running after her like a stray dog following the hand that fed it.

Not an inspiring comparison, that.

Or particularly accurate, for that matter.

But damn if she wasn’t interested in what was going on between Hiko Seijuurou the 13th, Miss Megumi Shishio and that pretty redhead in pink. Undoubtedly, it was somehow connected to the letter she had seen Megumi handing out to Hiko.

Choices, choices… Kaoru frowned.

She shook her head and let out a soft laugh. Since when had she needed to hesitate about going to talk with someone? She was the Crown Prince and this was her ball. She could approach whoever she wanted!

A self-confident swagger in her steps, Kaoru headed towards the mystery trio.

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“You made it,” Megumi said breathlessly, her face shining with joy. She clasped Kenshin’s hands, “I am so happy for you!”

“Oro?” Kenshin blurted, too startled for words. Miss Megumi had never been the most expressive of women, so for her to show her emotions like this, it meant…

“So it was a favor, but not for me,” Hiko remarked. “Now, it all makes sense. Kenshin, I gather Miss Shishio is a friend of yours?”

“Y-yes,” Kenshin stammered. “That’s right, so it is.”

Miss Megumi smiled, “It is alright, no need to be so alarmed.” Then, she turned to face Hiko. “Yes, I am a friend and an ally to Kenshin, even if I don’t always have an opportunity to show it. As you might understand, my situation is dependent on my Lady mother’s and Lord father’s good opinion.”

“Understandable,” Hiko inclined his head, just an inch – as was appropriate for a highborn lord to a lady of lower rank. “I must give you my gratitude, for your help and friendship… and for the letter.”

A letter? Just what has Miss Megumi done this time? Kenshin blinked, not quite following the conversation.

“Save your gratitude,” Miss Megumi harrumphed. “Just talk with your daughter, alright? You two already lost over a decade because of your famed stubbornness. Instead of empty gratitude or some arcane favor, I’d much prefer you to ensure Kenshin has the opportunities she deserves, and wouldn’t need to clean and keep other people’s house for her living.”

A shiver of alarm raced down Kenshin’s spine. The way Miss Megumi was talking to Hiko… oh god, this couldn’t end well!

Hiko’s brows furrowed in consideration, but then, instead of the storm Kenshin had been bracing for, he smirked. “I appreciate the advice. Though I’d be careful if I were you, Miss Shishio – if you continue with such a fierce attitude, you might end up enticing an entirely wrong man than the one you are hunting.”

Miss Megumi raised her brow, “Oh?”

That's… those two, what are they saying? Kenshin stared, feeling faint.

Before the situation could escalate further, a light, energetic voice cut through the strange pressure enveloping their party. “Lord Seijuurou, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, least of all in such a pretty company. And Miss Shishio, I hope I am not intruding upon your conversation.”

Miss Megumi’s smile grew tight for a briefest of moments before she turned around and curtseyed elegantly. “Prince Kaoru, it’s a pleasure.”

….Prince Kaoru? Did they mean that the Crown Prince of all Yamato and Ezzo was talking to them? Kenshin grew stiff, before dropping to a deep curtsey, her gaze fixed on the floor. She was a shade too late for a greeting according to proper etiquette, but hopefully, no one noticed.

In front of her, she could see the leather of the Prince’s heeled boots shining like a mirror, so bright that Kenshin could see her own reflection from them.

“And who is this?” That light voice asked. “I can’t remember seeing you before, lady…?”

Hiko tugged at Kenshin’s arm, prompting her to straighten and meet the startling blue eyes of the Crown Prince for the first time.

He was short and lean, just like the rumors had painted him to be – and somewhat shorter than Kenshin, though how much of that height difference was in the heels Kenshin wore, was impossible to say.

However, despite hearing people to gossip about the Prince often enough, hearing all about his charming manners, affable nature and his good looks, what Kenshin hadn’t quite realized was how young the Prince was. Not exactly a youngster, but a young adult of eighteen years. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Every citizen was aware of the Prince’s age. There had been a great nation-wide party two years ago when the Prince had reached his adulthood.

But eighteen years old… it had been eleven years, almost a lifetime ago when Kenshin had been the Prince’s age. She had been homeless then, desperately searching for respectable work and trying to find ways to disguise the small tells that gave away her body’s wrongness to the casual observer.

“Prince Kaoru, how good of you to show up. I guess I haven’t ever mentioned my daughter to you, have I?” Hiko’s firm voice pulled Kenshin out of her thoughts. “This is my daughter, Lady Seijuurou Kenshin.”

Prince Kaoru’s eyes widened slightly, the only sign of his surprise. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lady Seijuurou,” He said, bowing slightly, like a true gentleman.

Kenshin wavered on her feet, overwhelmed – that name! Did Hiko just give this one his family’s name? And publicly acknowledge this one as his daughter to the second highest power in the kingdom? – before rushing for another curtsey. “This one is pleased to meet you, Prince Kamiya.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” The prince smiled, meeting Kenshin’s eyes and winked.

“T-thank you, sir,” Kenshin managed, before glancing aside, the heat creeping to her cheeks. Damnit! This was far from the first time a man decided to flirt with her, so why was she reacting like this to it? She hadn’t ever been interested in men! And Prince Kaoru, the most sought-after bachelor in the whole country, was so unsuitable a practice partner that it wasn’t even funny!

“Such a pleasant surprise,” The prince said, before clearing his throat. “Lord Seijuurou, my Lord Father and I are not generally speaking averse to surprises, at least when they are as pleasant as this, but I must admit to curiosity. How come I have never heard of you having a daughter before?”

Kenshin stiffened, panic curling at the pit of her stomach as she turned to Hiko. They had been so busy earlier, rushing from one place to the next, trying to find a gown and shoes that fit her, then get her hair and makeup done… they hadn’t gotten a chance to discuss the practicalities, to agree on a socially acceptable story that would explain why a lord like Hiko with a well-known reputation as a bachelor could suddenly have a daughter.

Worse, to lie to the member of the royal family was akin to treason! Oh god, should she say something? Make a distraction? Anything to keep Hiko from needing to answer?

Even Miss Megumi’s smile had grown forced.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hiko just scoffed. “I adopted her.”

Oh… Kenshin blinked.

“So I see,” The Prince let a little laugh. “And when did this auspicious event happen, if I may ask? I think it might be good for me to mention the facts to my Lord father before any busybody springs a little surprise to him in a potentially awkward way.”

“That would be the best, I think.” Hiko agreed blandly. “And to be clear, I adopted my child at seven years old. If someone asks, the papers can be found in Kyoto, in official Yamato clan registries. I simply haven’t publicly spoken out loud about my family matters in Ezzo. You see, my position is not without its risks, not when I need to work with both Yamatoan and Ezzo nobility.”

That sounded particularly dodgy to Kenshin’s ears, but Prince Kaoru’s eyes grew serious and he nodded. “I’ll let my father know that.”

Hiko inclined his head, “I’m willing to discuss any concerns he might have in person.”

While Kenshin had never been the best at reading such byplay, it almost seemed like… just how close was Hiko to the King and the Crown Prince, really?

Even Miss Megumi was watching the interaction with interest, so much so that she didn’t notice a familiar figure approaching them with a stormy expression. No, that dubious honor went to Kenshin alone.

Lady Yumi’s eyes were fixated on Kenshin, and the anger in them was palatable.

Chills raced down Kenshin’s skin, and she looked down, curtseying as deep as she dared, without letting the Prince, or rest of the people around them to realize just how much of an intruder she was to their grand ball. Lady Yumi was the last person she had wanted to see tonight, but of course, the Lady wouldn’t have wandered far away from her prized daughter.

“Lady Shishio,” Kenshin said holding that deep curtsey as she prayed that this wouldn’t turn to a scene, “How are you tonight?”

Lady Yumi didn’t answer her, but walked past her and curtseyed promptly. “Prince Kaoru, Lord Seijuurou – What a delight! I hope I am not intruding upon your conversation?”

“No, by all means,” Prince’s voice answered. “We were just exchanging pleasantries.”

Kenshin closed her eyes, and exhaled softly, ashamed of her irrational fears. Lady Yumi was a master of political intrigue. She wouldn’t cause a scene, no matter how furious she was – at least, not if it wouldn’t serve her own agenda.

And true it was: Lady Yumi was smiling gently, her anger expertly masked as her eyes fixated on the Crown Prince. “An intriguing conversation to be sure,” she was saying. “However, I can’t help but notice that the dance floor is awaiting the star of the night.”

Prince Kaoru glanced over his shoulder.

Albeit the music was playing, none one was dancing. No, the guests had moved to the sidelines, leaving the dance floor empty. Most people were eyeing their party, some discreetly, some less so.

“Ah,” Prince Kaoru said, reaching to rub his neck. “I guess I should get back to it.”

“If you would, my Prince,” Lady Yumi curtseyed again. “Perhaps my Prince wouldn’t mind taking my daughter, Miss Megumi on another spin? You two looked marvelous together.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Lady Shishio,” the Prince said, “However, a prince must aim to be fair – I couldn’t possibly dance three dances in a row with the same lady.” He smiled, and then held out his hand to Kenshin, “My lady Seijuurou, perhaps you wouldn’t mind a dance?”

“Oro?” Kenshin gaped, staring at the Prince outreached hand.

Is t-the prince asking one to dance? But this one is not… “I… I ah, couldn’t possibly-“

“Do forgive my daughter for her lack of manners,” Hiko’s voice cut through her attempt to decline. “It’s been a while since she has been to an event like this. Go on, Kenshin – let the Prince accompany you for a dance. You still remember the dances your tutor taught you, don’t you?”

Kenshin gulped. Holy hell, now she had no way of turning down the invitation, not without causing a scene herself! She took a deep breath, bobbed a curtsey, then clasped the Prince’s outreached hand and allowed him to lead her to the empty dance floor.

The stares aimed at her felt like hundreds of needles being driven to her back. Panic churned in her gut, like snakes curling tight and twisting to their own tune.

Kenshin felt sick.

What if people realized what she was? That the esteemed Crown Prince Kamiya Kaoru wasn’t escorting a proper woman, but a freak in a dress and high heels? Oh gods, she never should have agreed to come!

The Prince bowed and gave a whisper of a kiss to the back of her hand. “My lady, please relax – it’s just a simple waltz. I’ll guide you through it.”

“Aa,” Kenshin managed weakly.

The Prince straightened, and with a charming smile pulled her close, to a proper dancing pose.

Now, Kenshin was not new to dancing. How could she be? It might have been over a decade since she had last danced ballroom, but she had been adopted at a young age to a high ranking noble family and like most youths of her former caste, her education had included extensive dancing lessons.

The difference was, of course, that her dance lessons had been tailored to teach her to lead.

Kenshin struggled to hold back a cringe, and lifted her hand to the Prince’s shoulder, forcing herself to focus. It might have been ages, but she should be able to manage a simple waltz, shouldn’t she?

“There we go,” the Prince smiled at her. “Now, let’s take this slowly, shall we?”

“I… um, yes. This one would appreciate a slow start, that she would.”

The Prince took a step and another forward, his hand firm at Kenshin’s waist. It felt weird, to start with a backward step, but the Prince’s guidance was easy enough to follow, even for such an inexperienced follower as Kenshin.

“And now, a side step,” The Prince said, leading them with confidence. “And then we repeat the same, but backward. Now, this isn’t so bad, is it?”

“No,” Kenshin agreed. “Thank you, for your understanding.”

“It’s my pleasure,” The Prince said, continuing the classic sway of the waltz – leading them to step by step closer to the middle. “Now, if you don’t mind my curiosity, but the way you speak – you come from Yamato, do you not?”

Kenshin gave up staring at her feet like an absolute beginner and met the Prince’s curious gaze. “Um, it’s been a long time, but yes – this one thinks she was born in south-western Yamato, that she was.”

“You think?” Prince Kaoru raised his brow.

Kenshin looked aside, feeling a tad uncomfortable. She didn’t like talking about herself, but she couldn’t lie to the Crown Prince, now could she? “This one doesn’t remember her childhood very well,” She finally said, tried to pass it off. “One’s family was struck down by an epidemic plaguing the south at the time and one was weak and sickly for months, even after Hiko adopted this one.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” The Prince said. “I hope you accept my condolences, even at this late date.”

The sincerity in the Prince’s voice – it felt genuine. Kenshin paused, not quite sure how to answer. “I… thank you,” she finally said.

“Though I must admit to befuddlement – because of my status, I have studied quite a bit of Yamatoan history and the matters of the state, and to my understanding, there haven’t been droughts or epidemics that typically follow them in the south-west since the war… And it has been over two decades since Yamato became part of my lord father’s kingdom.”

“That’s true,” Kenshin allowed with notable hesitance, wavering the steps of the dance just a bit, before countering the roundabout question with one of her own. “What is that my Prince wishes to know then? Is there something wrong about this one’s heritage?”

“No, nothing of the sort! Quite the contrary! I was just being nosy. My apologies, my lady,” The Prince hurried to assure her, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “It’s just, I can’t quite place your age, that’s all.”

“Oro?” Kenshin blinked, “You were trying to ask how old this one is?”

If possible, the Prince’s blush became deeper and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s quite rude of me to ask, isn’t it? Ah, please – forget my breach in decorum. Of course, these things are not something a gentleman should ever ask from a lady.”

That blush on his cheeks, how his blue eyes avoided her gaze, it was strangely charming how he blustered. Kenshin couldn’t quite help the smile that tugged her lips. “It is rude to ask, so it is – but only this once, one doesn’t mind answering you. This one is now twenty-nine, that she is.”

The Prince’s eyes widened almost comically, “Twenty-nine? But you look like you are about my age, in your early twenties at the tops!”

Flattered, Kenshin glanced aside, feeling a bit better about her looks. Perhaps the hard years of work, first as a cook in a roadside tavern, then as a seamstress to a small village, then a cleaning lady and finally as a maid weren’t as obvious as she had thought?

In the background, the music quieted and then changed to a more lively melody.

Kenshin gathered her poise and curtseyed, “Thank you for the dance, Prince Kamiya.”

However, the Prince didn’t let go of her hand.

“My Lady Seijuurou, I… I must apologize for my terrible manners. I’ve made you uncomfortable with my blundering.” The Prince offered her a deep bow, a deeper bow than a man of his rank should ever bow to a woman. He turned his hand palm up, lessening his clasp on her hand to only a touch like he was holding a small bird in his palm. “Please, allow me to redeem my honor and offer you another dance. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Again, that sincerity in his voice… Kenshin paused, not quite sure how to react.

Still, the Prince bowed – his hand still, waiting for her choice.

Kenshin bit on the inside of her cheek, before glancing at the sidelines. Hiko had retreated to the table where champagne was being served. Some distance away, Lady Yumi was bickering with Miss Megumi.

Guilt twisted at her stomach. Miss Megumi had done nothing wrong, but undoubtedly she had to endure the anger Kenshin’s actions had spurred. Kenshin knew what she should do. She should say no to the Prince’s invitation and walk away from this mess. And if the Prince followed, she should try to guide his gaze to notice Miss Megumi.

That’s what a freak like she was expected to do.

“Lady Seijuurou,” the Prince glanced up, his gaze troubled. “Please, allow me to repay my earlier blundering to you.”

But the Prince, there was something about him, something strange and enthralling that Kenshin couldn’t quite put her finger to. She knew it was a bad choice. She knew it better than anyone because even if the interest in Prince’s gaze was genuine, there was no way this could end well. He was the Crown Prince of the kingdoms of Yamato and Ezzo, a man with the world on his palm – and she, even had her body been right – she had been born in a small hut with a packed mud floor in the middle drought, starvation, and epidemics that followed it.

The gap between their origins was like the night and day.

Too large a gap to bridge together, she knew.

And yet… she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Kenshin bobbed a curtsey and clasped the Prince’s hand. “One more dance.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So far Kaoru had concluded two things about Lady Seijuurou.

One; she had the looks of a woman who could walk into a room and steal everyone’s attention without even trying.

Two; she had been lying about not knowing how to dance.

Actually, everything about Lady Seijuurou seemed to be shrouded in mystery. For as soon as Kaoru thought she had figured Lady Seijuurou out, she did something that completely defied Kaoru’s expectations.

Like the issue with dancing. Kaoru had assumed Lady Seijuurou’s hesitance about accepting her invitation was because she didn’t know how to dance. Because of this, Kaoru had intended to lead her through the most basic dance she knew, step by step. However, as soon as they had gotten started, Lady Seijuurou had relaxed and followed Kaoru’s lead with the ease of someone who had danced the steps thousand times.

Even more mysterious, when Kaoru had blundered with their conversation and faltered in her steps, Lady Seijuurou hadn’t – instead, she had taken the lead from Kaoru and continued on as nothing had happened.

So quite understandably, Kaoru’s interest was piqued. Perhaps, even too much. She glanced aside, the heat lingering on her cheeks at the memory of her earlier rude questions.

However, even as embarrassing as it was to inquire about a woman’s heritage and age, it was starting to become more and more obvious that Kaoru had found a woman who could be even more suitable to her needs than Lady Megumi Shishio.

As a daughter of Hiko Seijuurou the 13th, Lady Seijuurou Kenshin had the status only very few women in the kingdom could match. Even better, by her charming accent and her own words, she was from Yamatoan origin – which could help in King Kamiya’s long-term goal of acclimatizing the annexed Yamato to the Kingdom of Ezzo. Her status as an adopted daughter was not an issue. Even had she been born to a lower-ranked countryside lord’s family, they could easily spin her rise to a rank as a true feminine success story.

The fact that Lady Seijuurou had been orphaned at a young age also meant that there would be no uncomfortable questions of her loyalty in the long run. Not like with most Yamatoan nobles. Well, other than to Hiko, and Hiko had been Kaoru’s father’s friend as long as she could remember.

Lastly… as trivial detail as it was, it certainly didn’t hurt that Lady Seijuurou was a beautiful woman.

Kaoru looked up, only to see Lady Seijuurou glancing at the sidelines, where they had left the Shishio women.

Ah. Well, she’s only a good match if you can catch her interest. Kaoru reminded herself and then, not letting herself to be deterred by her partners’ wandering attention, she drew an inviting smile to her lips, “Perhaps my lady would like to lead for a while?”

“Oro?” Lady Seijuurou startled, her back growing stiff with tension. “Whatever you mean?” She asked, trying to misdirect.

Shame that Kaoru wasn’t so easily deterred. She grinned, relaxing her guiding hold on Lady Seijuurou’s waist, “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed that my lady is an expert dancer. If you’d prefer to lead, I don’t mind following.”

However, instead of the flattered glance she expected, Lady Seijuurou blanched white as a sheet and her gaze dropped to her feet, a notable uncertainty entering her motions. “T-this, ah… I, really – please, my Prince – no.”

“Why not?” Kaoru tilted her head to a side, honestly baffled. “It’s obvious that you are more familiar at leading. I genuinely don’t mind if that’s something you’d rather do.”

“…still, no.” Lady Seijuurou said, stiff as a board. “It’s… um, one did originally learn to dance in a leading role, but it’s not proper for a woman, that it’s not. And really, this one would much rather learn to be better at following, that one would.”

“Oh. Well, if that’s the case.” Kaoru paused in consideration, “Or perhaps, I could teach you?”

“Oro?”

Again that adorable sound! Kaoru tightened her hold, pulling Lady Seijuurou even closer to herself. “You see, if we are a bit closer to each other, you can more easily follow on my cues and wouldn’t so easily seek to take my lead by reflex.”

“Um,” Lady Seijuurou hesitated, her violet eyes huge. “Err, well, if you think that will help?”

“Just trust me,” Kaoru grinned. “It’s a bit unorthodox, but this should work. I mean, it’s a bit similar than the way my father sometimes helped me with my sword moves. He used to hold my hand and physically adjust my pose during the kata.”

“Oh,” Lady Seijuurou blinked and then agreed almost shyly. “Hiko used to do that, too, when he taught this one. It does help sometimes, to have someone else adjust your pose instead of trying to copy their example.”

The trace of redness on Lady Seijuurou’s cheeks drew Kaoru’s gaze to a hint of a freckle on her nose, and on her cheekbones. Beautiful. Utterly beautiful. Kaoru swallowed dryly and tore her attention to the present. “Uh… what did you say? Lord Seijuurou taught you? Wait – I thought he didn’t dance? At least, that’s what he has always claimed when I tried to get him to socialize!”

“…this one has never seen him dance, either.”

“Oh,” Kaoru paused. “So what was it then, what he taught you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Lady Seijuurou hesitated, “Um – swordsmanship.”

Now, it was Kaoru’s turn to stare. “Lord Hiko Seijuurou the 13th taught you his sword’s style? The Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, the famed sword style that has been passed down on inside his family line since the era of civil wars?”

“Yes?” Lady Seijuurou asked, her gaze uncertain. “It’s why he first decided to adopt this one, or so this one thinks.”

“That’s…” Kaoru paused. “That’s pretty remarkable.”

And it really was, because what she had heard of Lord Seijuurou’s exploits during the war, he was widely rumored to be one of the best swordsmen in the country. A reputation that was still uncontested, because no challenger had managed to convince him to partake in a duel after the war, not even a friendly match among the peers.

Now, Kaoru didn’t think she was particularly vain, or hungry for an achievement – but learning that there was another woman who enjoyed swordsmanship and had skills in such a style? It was too good a lure to pass up. After all, Kaoru took great pride in having learned her father’s sword style, the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. As an entirely new style her father had developed after the war, it was somewhat controversial in approach, but she would love to test her skill against a legacy as prominent as the Seijuurou’s Hiten Mitsurugi.

Besides, Kaoru loved the art of the sword. It was that simple. So, she ventured out to suggest, “Perhaps my lady Seijuurou wouldn’t mind a friendly match at some point?”

“No. Thank you.”

Errr… what? Kaoru blinked. “No – to a friendly duel? Or you don’t want to meet me again?”

“No,” Lady Seijuurou said, then looked aside in haste, avoiding her gaze. “Um, that’s to say – this one doesn’t duel, that one doesn’t. That was one of the rule’s Hiko was very adamant about. No fighting for a show, or for one’s own gain. Besides, this one hasn’t had a chance to train in years. It wouldn’t be much of a match.”

“I see,” Kaoru said. “Well, with your permission – could I bring up to him the possibility of a private spar between the two of us? No audience, and only to extend you’d be comfortable with, of course! I mean, I don’t often get the meet women so deeply after my own heart and I would definitely like to meet you again.”

“Oro?” Lady Seijuurou looked up. “You’d like to – but me? But I, I’m not… and what about Miss Megumi?”

“What about her?” Kaoru tilted her head, honestly baffled. Why was Lady Seijuurou so spooked? Didn’t she realize how deeply she had captivated Kaoru’s attention in just two dances?

When the silence dragged on, Lady Seijuurou rushed to explain, “You are looking for a woman who could become a princess, are you not? Surely you have noticed that Miss Megumi would be perfect for that? She has the family connections, she is beautiful, elegant and smart and–“

“So are you,” Kaoru countered. “Look around us. Who is everyone looking at?”

Lady Seijuurou froze, before glancing over her shoulder – and Kaoru let go of her waist, turning the motion into a controlled spin, letting Lady Seijuurou see the crowd of hundreds, all of them watching at them, the only pair at the dance floor.

“You see, my lady,” Kaoru grinned and pulled her back to her arms, “You are the star of the night. Not only did you walk in on the esteemed Lord Hiko Seijuurou the 13th’s arm, but within minutes of your arrival, you had me utterly captivated. I assure you, there is no one in this room who doesn’t think you are a force to be reckoned with in your own right.”

“Oh.”

“So please, my lady – allow yourself to enjoy the moment.” Kaoru smiled. “And between the two of us, I honestly can’t remember when I have last enjoyed a dance as much as right now, and that’s all because of you.”

“I…” Lady Seijuurou started. “Um, thank you? Prince Kamiya.”

“Please, call me by my name.” Kaoru said easily, and dared to extend Lady Seijuurou to a classic dip, “All my friends do.”

“But we just met?” Lady Seijuurou said, looking up from her dipped pose.

Awh, hell – not only was she a looker, Lady Seijuurou was damn adorable too.

“Time is relative,” Kaoru grinned, and pulled her up, enjoying how easy it was. It really made all the difference to dance with someone who about her own size, instead of a head taller. “Haven’t you noticed how you can know some people for ages and still not like them for a bit, and with some, you just instantly enjoy their company?”

In the background, the orchestra changed to a quicker tempo and Kaoru decided to take it up a notch – and this time Lady Seijuurou didn’t hesitate anymore, just followed her lead.

A quick learner too! Kaoru noted with delight and sent her partner to another spin.

Lady Seijuurou parted, spinning elegantly, her pink evening gown flaring to its full width around her, a flower in full bloom – and then, at the end of her arm’s reach, she paused, turning to look at Kaoru, her lips slightly parted, and Kaoru’s knees wavered at the sight.

Gods, she is beautiful.

Holding out her hand, Kaoru waited – and Lady Seijuurou spun back, her right hand clasping Kaoru’s and her left hand finding its’ place at Kaoru’s shoulder.

So natural, so easy – it’s almost like we were made to each other. Kaoru grinned in exhilaration. “Are you sure you are new to following? Because you follow like a dream, my lady Seijuurou.”

The corners of her lips twitched, and then finally, the miracle happened: Lady Seijuurou smiled. It was an open, honest smile – a woman flattered, relaxed and enjoying the moment.

“It’s all thanks to your teaching, Prince Kaoru.” Lady Seijuurou demurred, “It has been years since this one has last had a chance to dance. And even then, it was a common tavern dance, not ballroom, so it was.”

A tavern dance? Just where had Lord Seijuurou hidden away his prized daughter for all these years that she hadn’t had a chance to dance anything finer?

“And please, Prince Kaoru,” Lady Seijuurou continued, pulling Kaoru from her thoughts. “Since you asked this one to address you with your given name, perhaps you could return the favor? Seijuurou is this one’s lord father’s name. This one has always been just Kenshin.”

“Of course, Lady Kenshin,” Kaoru agreed on the spot, pleased by the development.

The blush on Lady Kenshin’s face grew a shade deeper, but she didn’t tense up anymore.

Very good, indeed, thought Kaoru.

She had been waiting for a while Lady Kenshin to relax enough to treat her like they were on more equal grounds.

After all, Kaoru didn’t want a partner that treated her like the Prince around the clock. That would get tedious and quickly. No, what she had been looking for from the start was a woman who she could trust, who she could lean on when need be, and be leaned on in turn – in short, someone who could become the Princes, and later on the Queen, to Kingdoms of Ezzo and Yamato needed.

Princess Kenshin – that has a nice ring to it, Kaoru decided.

Amused, Kaoru couldn’t help but note that like her own, Lady Kenshin’s name had several spelling variations, including many popular boys’ names. The first syllable was particularly tricky because it was often written with the character ‘sword’ – a much too aggressive a name for a woman, especially during these peaceful times.

Actually, now that she thought about it, Kaoru could come up with only one way of spelling that she personally would use for a girl’s name – devotion.

I’m starting to see why people comment on Lord Seijuurou’s skill with words. Kaoru thought with helpless abandon. He certainly picked the perfect name for his daughter. I bet no one who meets her will be able to look aside…

Being so close, Kaoru could feel Lady Kenshin’s lean figure against her body, feel her warm breath tickling the side of Kaoru’s neck. A bead of perspiration was running down her cheek, to her jaw, falling to her neck, trickling down to-to—

Kaoru took a swallow, feeling light-headed out of a sudden. She relinquished her hold on Lady Kenshin’s right hand and tugged at her neck scarf, pulling it loose. Why had she decided to wear high neck scarves again? They were so damn constricting when one wanted to anything physical than just walking!

“Are you alright, Prince Kaoru?” Lady Kenshin asked, a genuine concern flashing in her eyes.

“Yes, yes –of course,” Kaoru said and reached for her hand again. She didn’t want to quit dancing with her, not yet, not ever. “We just got started, didn’t we?”

“But you...” Lady Kenshin hesitated, her eyes trailing Kaoru’s face, falling lower, to her neck…

And suddenly, Kaoru remembered why she wore high neck scarves. The Adam’s apple. The lack of it was among the more subtle tells of her true gender, not something that most people would pay any attention to, but Kaoru had always been careful and had used a lot of money and ingenuity to keep up her guise as a male.

Tailored coats to accent her shoulders, expertly made chest binders to press her breast akin to the shape of masculine pectorals, a habit of wearing high neck scarves and chalking it up as a personal preference, her insistence to wear codpieces ‘to protect the family jewels’… No matter how eccentric, she had always been meticulous, no matter the occasion or company she kept.

At least, until now.

Anxiety flared in Kaoru’s gut, the scenarios rushing through her mind – from bad, to worse to the disaster. No, she couldn’t think like this! There were very few people who would notice such a subtle tell. She still had time, time to make sure she had made the right choice, that Lady Kenshin was the sort of person who could keep a secret, who wouldn’t react badly, whose loyalty could be won! All she needed was time. Yes, time!

Kaoru looked aside for a– aha!

Drawing on all her much-practiced charm, she turned to her partner, “I think you are right, it’s getting a bit hot in here. Perhaps you’d like to join me for a stroll in the gardens? I’d really like us to continue our conversation.”

The look Lady Kenshin gave her was strangely… considering. Not the earlier hesitance or denial, nor the more recent acceptance and delight, but something that was neither. That hooded gaze didn’t give away even a hint to what she was thinking, not even when her eyes followed to where Kaoru was pointing, to the dimly lit outer gardens opening from the ballroom patio.

A shiver raced down Kaoru’s spine.

Finally, Lady Kenshin spoke, her voice soft as velvet, “yes, fresh air could do us both good, so it could.”

Not entirely sure how to read that, Kaoru braved on a smile. “Well, then – after you, my Lady.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Prince was a woman.

The sole heir of King Kamiya Koshijirou, the Crown Prince of the Kingdoms Yamato and Ezzo, was a woman, or at least he had a woman’s body. And he was trying to disguise it, very much like Kenshin had struggled to disguise her body’s wrongness for the last thirteen years.

The sheer enormity of that realization left Kenshin reeling in abject disbelief, but it was the only explanation that made sense.

Was this why Hiko had pushed Kenshin to accept that first dance with the Prince?

Given how close Hiko seemed to be with the Royal family, maybe he had known about this and had been hoping Kenshin to realize the similarities she had with the Prince? Perhaps, that was why Hiko had decided to seek her out in the first place?

Kenshin gnawed on the inside of her cheek, following the Prince through the patio’s glass doors, down to the marble stairs to the gardens.

The moon shone a gentle light of the bushes and flower beds, illuminating the hedge maze to the right.

It was quiet.

Yet, the Prince didn’t try to engage her with talk or request her attention. No, he merely escorted her around in silence, like he too had something heavy on his mind.

It was perfectly fine for Kenshin. She wasn’t sure she could manage a polite conversation, not when she was so rattled.

After all, she had never met someone like herself.

She had met men, who portrayed the role of a woman in a theater. She had met men, who dressed as women for other men’s pleasure – yet both of those roles were fleeting in nature, taken up for show, pleasure or profit and were easy to discard when it suited them. Very much different than Kenshin’s quiet struggle trying to live a lie that felt like a truth.

However, there was one problem with the theory that the Prince was like her…

Kenshin paused, thinking back to the year when Prince Kaoru had been born. That summer, there had been a great many celebrations all over the country, everyone rejoicing the first sign of stability to King Koshijirou’s rule that the birth of a male heir indicated.

So right from the start, Prince Kaoru had been publicly known as a male.

For Kenshin, it had taken years to reach the understanding of herself and of her gender, to figure out where the feeling of wrongness was coming from. There was no way anyone could have that sense and understanding of themselves straight from the birth, no matter how auspicious their circumstances were.

No, Prince Kaoru, whatever her reasons were, she had to be a woman in disguise.

As far as disguises went, it was next to flawless – as close to it one could get, truly. After all, as Kenshin knew with terrible familiarity, hiding all the physical expressions of one’s birth gender was next to impossible.

And now that Kenshin knew what look for…

The Prince’s voice was light, soft in pitch like it had never been broken. His hands, no matter how calloused, were slender like a musician’s – or a woman’s. Hell, even the way his jacket had been sewn, expertly blended seams and layers of padding to create an illusion of width to his shoulders and back… it was marvelous craftsmanship, but for a seamstress as skilled as Kenshin was, it was becoming easier and easier to notice what was fabric and what was an illusion, and what it all was used to hide.

“Lady Kenshin, what‘s on your mind? I could feel the heaviness of your gaze all the way from here,” The Prince joked, his smile charming as ever, even if a hint of uncertainty lingered in his stormy blue eyes.

“Oro? It was nothing, that is wasn’t.” Kenshin said and paused, trying to find a way to guide the conversation to safer waters. “At least, nothing important. Um, one couldn’t help but notice how beautiful a night it is.”

“Yes,” the prince nodded, his smile growing softer. “It is rather pretty out here, isn’t it?”

Kenshin inclined her head in acceptance, then motioned towards the flower beds. “You have skilled gardeners here, that you have. Those irises require a deft touch, or they will wilt during a summer like this.”

“Not only skilled with dance and swords,” the Prince raised his brow, “but you know gardening too, my lady?”

“A little,” Kenshin murmured dismissively. “The flowers are easier than people, sometimes.”

“That I don’t doubt!” The Prince let out a little laugh and held out her hand. “Join me? I’d like to show you something I think you’d enjoy.”

The spark of mischief in the Prince’s eye, it was strangely infectious – Kenshin took her hand, a smile tugging at her lips too.

The Prince grinned in victory and pulled her along, leading her deeper into the garden, to the high walls of the hedge maze – and the pathway that opened there.

“No better place in the castle grounds, not when one wishes to have some privacy.” The Prince declared. “And after an evening of playing nice to all busybodies and their mothers – it’s pretty good to have some peace and quiet, don’t you think?”

Kenshin covered her mouth with her hand, barely managing to hold back a most impolite laugh at the statement. It was the Prince’s serious expression, more than his outrageous words that made her laugh. Kenshin shook her head, trying to regain her composure. “Surely it hasn’t been that bad? All those beautiful women wearing their best, seeking out to impress—“

“Me?” The Prince huffed. “Trust me, if I had known how crazy this ball would drive everyone, I’d never agreed to my father’s suggestion to arrange this thing.”

Kenshin blinked, “Not that this one had the chance to really meet anyone, but the people out there seemed nice? At least, not something one would call crazy?”

The Prince gave her a look. “Imagine, that one day, you decide to wear the same scarf as the day before. Not for any particular reason, but simply because it felt nice and you fancied that it looked good.”

“Aa?” Kenshin murmured, not quite following.

The Prince tugged at her indigo scarf. “It was a blue piece, a bit like this. Nothing special. But a week later, every tailor shop and seamstress in the town had run out of blue fabric.”

“That’s,” Kenshin hesitated. “That’s a bit much.”

“Isn’t it?” The Prince grinned. “It was why I was so surprised to see you and your pretty dress, actually. You see, I have never owned a single item in pink – so I thought it a surefire bet that none would pick that color to wear.”

“Oro?”

“Though I must admit, you look beautiful in it. So beautiful,” The Prince repeated, his gaze soft and–and—

Her blush returning full force, Kenshin looked down, smoothing down her dress – a stupid, illogical thing to do, but it gave something for her hands to do lest the Prince see how they wavered. Why was she so shaken? It didn’t matter how the Prince looked at her, or that she was a woman and that Kenshin had always watched the women with wistful longing, never daring to even entertain the thought of love and attraction further than a fantasy, an impossible daydream because of what she was.

None of those things mattered.

Shouldn’t matter.

Couldn’t matter. No, because, if they did, then the way the Prince was looking at her, how she was acting towards her, it would mean that, that… But the Prince, she needed a wife. Everyone knew what. And a wife was someone who could help the Prince to continue the Royal lineage, and…

…the Prince was a woman.

Kenshin felt faint.

“Lady Kenshin?”

“Yes?” Kenshin managed weakly.

“What is wrong? The look on your face, have I done something to make you feel awkward again?”

“It’s,” Kenshin struggled to make sense of the words. But the words, they felt so terribly inadequate right now. “No, it’s nothing you did… it’s,” She motioned to herself, trying to find a way to explain without telling too much. “I… I was born on a mud packed floor in a simple countryside hut, a third child to a rice farmer – a scrawny, good for nothing spare. No one expected anything of me. Not even Hiko.”

“But—“

“Don’t, please – just don’t,” Kenshin shook her head. “I, I need to – you need to understand why it’s not – why even if I would allow myself to want, the gap between us, it’s too much. And children, that’s – one can’t even think of that. It’s too big of a leap.”

Prince Kaoru hesitated, “Why? No matter your status at birth, you were adopted by a highborn lord. That’s a fact. Lord Seijuurou declared it openly. You must know just as well as I do that an adopted child is perfectly valid as an heir, especially if there are no other children to contest the claim.”

Kenshin grimaced, feeling of entrapment becoming stronger.

The Prince stepped closer to her, taking her hand. “Lady Kenshin, please – it’s okay.”

“But it’s not,” Kenshin denied.

The Prince sighed, rubbing comforting circles at the back of Kenshin’s hand. “Would it help to know, that just two weeks ago, my lord father said that I shouldn’t worry about an heir? That as long as I married for love, he could wait as long as it took? That he even would accept any child as my heir as long as it carried my name?”

“Oro?” Kenshin gasped, not quite sure she had heard right. “But you—“

Prince Kaoru smiled, “My father has been adamant about my happiness for the longest time, especially because of the things he has needed to demand from me for the good of the kingdom. Not that I mind!” Prince Kaoru laughed. “I love my country. In a way, everything I do, all the choices I make and my entire life – it’s all a service for my people.”

Prince Kaoru’s role, her father’s expectations, her long search for a wife, the dots connected at lightning speed in Kenshin’s mind. She looked up, meeting the Prince’s gaze, “But… why this one?”

“You make me smile,” The Prince said. “And you laugh at my terrible jokes.”

“That’s it?”

The Prince let out a soft laugh. “Well, it doesn’t hurt that you are pretty. And adorable. And a good dancer. And smart, let’s not forget smart.”

Kenshin frowned, “Now you are pushing it.”

“Am I?” The Prince dimpled. “Well, what if I like complimenting you? You have the most adorable blush.”

T-that girl! Kenshin looked down, fighting back the heat rising to her cheeks – sadly, it was a wasted effort. Damn it! Like most redheads, she had always blushed far too easily.

Determined to avoid the Prince’s gaze, Kenshin looked past the hedges to the castle’s lights illuminating the night.

That was, of course, when her stomach decided to make its presence known by letting out a loud rumble. Startled, Kenshin pressed her hand to it, suddenly realizing that it had been a quick lunch since she had last eaten anything.

“Oh.”

The strangest sound sounded from her side, pulled Kenshin from her thoughts.

The Prince was covering her mouth with her hand, then lost the uphill battle entirely and started giggling like a little girl. “Your face!” She gasped breathlessly. “Oh gods, you looked like you’d want to admonish your stomach! Please, have some sympathy for the poor thing, it has been strapped for hours in that corset!”

Kenshin snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with wearing a corset, that there isn’t. Wearing one is not even uncomfortable when one has done it often enough.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” The Prince quipped back. “Besides, I’m sure your stomach would disagree with you if it could articulate any clearer.”

“This one forgot to eat, that’s all,” Kenshin grumbled, starting to walk towards the edge of the hedge maze. “First Hiko picked up this one without any forewarning, then he hauled this one from one store to the next, in search of something to wear. As it was, we barely made it in time to be ‘fashionably late,’ as Hiko put it. Honestly, anyone would have forgotten to eat in that hurry.”

“Sure, sure,” The Prince agreed, jogging up to her to walk by her side. “But maybe you wouldn’t mind me offering you a dinner? I’m sure we can find something to eat.”

“It’s near midnight,” Kenshin said. “If there’s anything left to eat at the ball, it must have been a dish too strange for you esteemed guests’ palate.”

“Perhaps,” The Prince said. “But trust me, if I ask for something to eat – there will be food.”

“Must be nice,” Kenshin harrumphed, not particularly impressed. She still remembered when she had worked in a tavern nearly ten years ago and how annoying it was when a quest had decided to demand food in the middle of the night.

They were just climbing up the patio stairs, when Kenshin noticed that ball had already ended and the guest were in the process of leaving – and worse, from this high-up, she could see the castle’s front yard, where she spotted the familiar purple gowns of Lady Yumi and Miss Megumi, both women already climbing to their carriage.

The reality struck like a lightning bolt from the clear sky.

Kenshin had just spent the whole evening with the Prince. Worse, she had caught the Prince’s attention in front of Lady Yumi and Miss Megumi, right after Miss Megumi had danced with the Prince. Worse, Kenshin hadn’t even tried to explain herself, why she had come to a ball Lady Yumi had forbidden her to attend, why she had abandoned her responsibilities at the Shishio townhouse…Gods, no matter how she’d spin it, this would look bad – no, it would look like a betrayal.

And it was a betrayal, wasn’t it?

The pinnacle of Lady Yumi’s ambition was for Miss Megumi to catch the Prince’s hand.

It was something Kenshin had known perfectly well.

And still, she hadn’t said no to the Prince’s invitation, hadn’t walked away when given a chance to do so – no, instead she had gone with the flow of the moment, and in doing so, spat on her employer’s generosity, trampled on the trust Lady Yumi had given her when she had decided to hire her, allowing her a chance for an honorable work and a place to live without a fear of persecution.

And worst of all, Lady Shishio Yumi, the woman who she had so spurned, was famed for her vindictive wrath and she knew Kenshin’s worst secrets.

Shiver racing down her spine, Kenshin whispered, “T-this one… I’m sorry – and thank you.”

The fact was: if she couldn’t find a way to appease Lady Yumi, it wasn’t just Kenshin’s reputation she could tatter in revenge. No, because if she made it known to people that Kenshin’s body was not as it seemed, that she was trying to disguise her birth gender… How long would it take the people to realize the Prince was doing the same?

“What?” The Prince stared at her, “Why for?”

“You made me feel like I was worth something. I’ll never forget that.” Kenshin’s heart felt like it trying to claw its way out of her chest, and still, she smiled. “Thank you – and goodbye.”

She turned, and ran –

“Kenshin! Hey, wait!”

The Prince’s shout echoed after her, but Kenshin didn’t turn around. She raced up the stairs, across the patio, past the pathway leading to the castle’s front yard –

“Kenshin – don’t go!”

Her eyes blurry with tears, Kenshin gasped for breath and ran faster, even when her heel lurched in her feet and made her stumble, she hopped on one foot and pulled off the damn shoe and continued running.

She couldn’t stop, not now—

Because it she glanced back even for an instant, she would stop, and she would tell the Prince everything, what a freak she truly was and then, she would have to face the Prince’s disgust when she realized that the Lady Kenshin she had been chasing didn’t exist after all.

No, it was better she ran now – when they both still had this beautiful illusion to remember.

“KENShIIIiiiin!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Red hair flowing behind her, her pink dress gathered up so she could run freely, Lady Kenshin disappeared past the castle’s gate. Kaoru slowed down from her frantic run to walk, staring after her.

What had happened? What had Lady Kenshin seen, that she would change her mind so drastically?

The guests?

The trickle of people leaving had waned, most of them turned to look at the spectacle of Prince Kaoru running after a girl, hollering her name. Kaoru grimaced, and lifted her hand to assure them that it was all good – even though it really, really wasn’t – then turned on her heel, and headed back up the marble stairs. She didn’t feel like explaining her actions to anyone. Not right now. Preferably, not ever.

However, as she walked up towards the castle, her eye caught on a glimmer of… pink?

Her heart racing, Kaoru rushed to pick it up – a shoe made of pink glass. Who would make a shoe out of something as impractical as glass? She couldn’t even venture a guess. However, that didn’t matter, not when she knew exactly whose shoe this was. After all, only one woman had worn pink at the ball, and women always matched their shoes with their outfit.

No, this… was Lady Kenshin’s shoe.

A tangible sign, that Kaoru hadn’t imagined her beauty, grace—

“What happened?” A gruff voice cut off her train of thought.

Kaoru startled and looked up, only to face a broad, broad chest clad in white. She blinked, looking up even higher-

Lord Seijuurou raised his brow, and repeated, “The shoe. Why do you have Kenshin’s shoe?”

“Uh,” Kaoru swallowed. “Um, she dropped it? She was stumbling when she ran down the stairs, and I, ah-“

“Never mind you,” Hiko cut off, impatient. “Why was Kenshin running? Did you upset him?”

“I… don’t think so?” Kaoru asked, stepping back. Gods, she had never realized how intimidating Lord Seijuurou could be when he was looming over someone like that. “We were just talking nonsense, joking around – about food? Yes, it was about food, hardly something that could upset anyone, I don’t think. I thought she’d like something to eat, so I offered her a dinner, but as we were coming back she saw something and suddenly spun around, thanked me and said–“ Kaoru’s breath caught, “G-goodbye. She said goodbye-“

“Slow down! Take a deep breath, and look at me, boy.” Lord Seijuurou clasped her shoulders. “There we go. You said he saw something? Where?”

Kaoru’s throat felt too tight for words, so she waved towards the stairs. “There, in the driveway, I think.”

“I see,” Lord Seijuurou hummed. “Yes, I think I have a pretty good idea why Kenshin reacted like that. That child… even now, he,” Lord Seijuurou scowled, “She thinks nothing of herself, of her own happiness.”

“…what?”

Lord Seijuurou straightened and looked away, gazing down the castle’s yard. “Kenshin… You’d think she is demure and sweet, with those understated manners of hers. She’s not. You will never meet anyone more hard-headed and independent as her. She thinks and thinks and thinks, bringing up the matter once, twice, thrice and the way she does it, it’s so gentle, so nice and accommodating, that you’d think this is just a simple thing, a little matter that develops character if thwarted – but when she makes up her mind, she will act on it, no matter the consequences to herself.”

“Oh,” Kaoru paused, not entirely sure why was Lord Seijuurou telling to this her. Was this some sort an arcane way to tell her off? Stay away from my daughter, or else? Hah, like she’d give up now! Kaoru narrowed her eyes and said firmly. “That’s not something I’d consider a fault. I like independent women who are not afraid to stand their ground.”

Lord Seijuurou snorted like he had just heard the best joke in all night. But he didn’t turn around. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Kaoru said evenly, stepping to stand beside him. “Yes, I do.”

“Hah. Maybe you do then.” Lord Seijuurou said softly and glanced at her. Despite their difference in height, the fact that Lord Seijuurou had always towered over everyone – he had never seemed more vulnerable, more human than right now. “I never hid Kenshin. She ran off at sixteen and never returned. The letter you saw Miss Shishio hand me earlier today? That was the first I had heard of Kenshin in thirteen years.”

“What?” Kaoru gaped. “How would – what happened?!”

Lord Seijuurou furrowed his brow. “I didn’t listen. I didn’t look. It was always there, right in front of my eyes, but I refused to understand, simply because it went beyond what I was comfortable to accept. How blind of me.”

Refused to understand? Not seeing what was in front of him? Just how much had Lord Seijuurou drunk again? Kaoru frowned. “A spymaster of your capabilities should have easily found her.”

“True,” Hiko let out a bitter laugh. “But I never looked.”

“But why?”

Hiko didn’t answer.

The silence dragged on, and then, Kaoru couldn’t take it anymore. “You should go to her. Right now.”

“No.”

Kaoru raised her brow in disbelief. “Why not? Kenshin was really upset, she needs you. Are you really going to let her suffer alone?”

“Kenshin’s tougher than she looks,” Hiko said dismissively. “She knows the name of my hotel. If she gets in trouble, she can find me and I’ll rain hell on anyone who even thinks of hurting her. But not before she asks me to.”

“That’s…” Kaoru bit on her lip, tempted to say something she knew she’d regret. Suddenly, she didn’t wonder at all why Hiko had had troubles raising a child. “Then, at least tell me where I can find her. Please. I need to go to her and apologize.”

“No.”

Kaoru growled, clenching her hands to fists. “And pray tell, why not?”

Hiko huffed. “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Trust me, kid – I have tried. No, Kenshin is the sort of self-sacrificial idiot who will never step out of the miserable little life she has made for herself, if not by her own choice. She’s difficult like that. She’ll run and run until she decides not to.”

“But surely I can talk to her? Try to help her?” Kaoru said, trying to make any sense of Hiko’s arcane musings.

Hiko scoffed, shook his head – blatantly ignoring her and then the bastard decided to head down the stairs. “’til later,” he called out loud and lifted up his hand if farewell, holding up a bottle of—

“Son of a bitch!” Kaoru gaped, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her. Had Lord Seijuurou grabbed a whole bottle of their most expensive champagne? Really? “How wasted are you?”

“Not even nearly enough.” Lord Seijuurou declared without turning around. “I’d recommend you to do the same. It passes the time.”

Kaoru stared – that, that bastard! “You seriously aren’t going to give me even a hint where to find her?”

“I’d rather watch you sweat for it. After all, what a man has to fight for, he will always appreciate more than a price neatly handed to him.”

“What?” Kaoru stated, oddly furious. “Women aren’t things.”

“Yet, the principle still stands.” Lord Seijuurou turned around and pointed his bottle toward Kaoru. “Besides, you have everything you need to find her yourself, don’t you?”

“Tsh,” Kaoru hissed, peering at the shoe in her hands.

It was an odd one, most certainly.

At least five years, if not more past the current fashion, a bit too ambitious in material and design to be practical for anyone and –

Kaoru’s brows furrowed in thought. She hopped on one foot, comparing Lady Kenshin’s pink shoe to her own uniform boots.

It was at least three, maybe four fingers larger in size than hers.

“Huh.”

So it was an odd size, too – larger than most women’s wear, maybe even larger than what tall beauties like Miss Megumi would wear. An impractical, inflexible and notable old design… something a craftsman had made to an order but hadn’t managed to sell after all?

That would fit, wouldn’t it? Lady Kenshin had mentioned to having some trouble finding something suitable to wear in such a short notice, hadn’t she?

Kaoru gnawed on her bottom lip, turning the shoe in her hands, an idea sparking at the back of her mind.

Yes, did have everything she needed to find Lady Kenshin, didn’t she?

The shoe – it was the key.

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The next morning, Kaoru woke up early – a step by step plan fully hashed out in her mind and ready to be executed. The first step, of course, was to find Mrs. Tae, the castle’s head maid and uncontested queen of the gossip circle.

“List of Lady Shishio Megumi’s friends, you say?” The older maid asked, startled. “But didn’t you-“

Kaoru flashed her most charming smile and rubbed the back of her neck, as if embarrassed. “Unfortunately, it didn’t quite click between Miss Megumi and I. And, well – um, this is a touch awkward – but you see, Lady Seijuurou seemed to be friends with Miss Shishio, but she forgot to mention to me where she was staying and now I don’t know how to contact her.”

“And you haven’t tried through her father?” Mrs. Tae asked. “As I recall, Lord Seijuurou has been staying at the same hotel he always does when he visits the capital.”

Kaoru didn’t even try to hold back her grimace. “Ah, that’s… unfortunately, that path is a no go.”

“Hoo?” Mrs. Tae grinned. “Do tell? You know how I enjoy interesting stories.”

“Maybe later?” Kaoru smiled weakly. “I’m afraid, it’s a matter of some urgency – you see, Lady Seijuurou was a tad upset with me last night and I do wish to apologize to her at the soonest.”

“Awh,” Mrs. Tae’s eyes grew softer. “Well, you should have started with that! Sure, let me just grab my notebook and I’ll get you a list in a jiffy. I assume you want only the names of the nobles who are staying in the town?”

“And any lesser ranked contacts if you possibly could,” Kaoru asked.

Mrs. Tae’s brows climbed in surprise. “I see. Well, let’s see what I can do for you – but when this is over, be sure to introduce me to this young lady? I’d love to meet a woman who has caught your eye so strongly.”

“It’s a deal,” Kaoru said. “Thank you, Mrs. Tae – you are the best!”

Mrs. Tae huffed, shaking her head. “Now hop along – and be sure to mention the news to your honorable Lord father. If I’m not completely off the mark, he should be having a breakfast at the grand hall.”

“Really, so early?” Kaoru blinked.

“It’s halfway to the morning for most of us.” Mrs. Tae said ruefully. “Ta-ta.”

As promised, Kaoru found her father at the grand hall, enjoying breakfast with his advisors and old friends, the venerable Lord Maekawa and the court Primary Physician, Doctor Gensai. Now, the last thing Kaoru wanted was to tell a trio of noisy old men – no matter how dear or wise – that yes, she had finally met a woman she liked but said woman had run off in tears.

No, it really was a bit too mortifying.

So Kaoru shoveled a light breakfast to her plate and chomped it down in hurry, avoiding her father’s curious gaze and well-intended questions with a few well-placed hums, nods and roundabout replies; yes, the ball had been nice. Yes, she had met interesting people. Yes, it had all gone well, thanks, dad.

“Really Kaoru – what’s got into you this morning? You seem unusually hurried.”

“Oh, nothing much,” Kaoru deflected. “I just need to get to a thing, that’s all. Oh by the way – you don’t mind if I take a carriage to town, do you, dad?”

“Of course not,” King Kamiya Koshijirou agreed easily. “But Kaoru –“

“…Yes, dad?”

Lord Maekawa and Doctor Gensai leaned back, both of them watching the exchange in curiosity.

“You know that I fully trust your judgment? Even if… I would like to be there for you, to support you, no matter how awkward the topic.”

“I know that,” Kaoru said, her softly. “And I’ll be sure to tell you all about it, but later. I really must go if I want this to work, so could I take my leave?”

“By all means,” King Koshijirou said, “please.”

“Thanks, dad.” Kaoru grinned and rose to her feet. “Oh, and I need to loan Sanosuke as well.”

King Koshijirou paused, his surprise obvious. “And why would you need the Head Guard of the Castle for an outing to the town? Surely you don’t fear for your safety—“

”Nope,” Kaoru grinned. “But he is nicely tall and intimidating. His presence would save me a lot of fast talking.”

A notable silence followed that statement.

Kaoru let out a small laugh, “Anyways, I’ll be off—“

“Kaoru…”

“Lord Maekawa, Doctor Gensai – It was nice to catch a breakfast together.” Kaoru addressed her father's’ advisors and then waved cheerfully. “Thanks, dad – I’ll be back by the nightfall.”

“Fine,” King Koshijirou huffed. “Safe travels.”

“Always,” Kaoru grinned and marched off with a cheerful whistle, her dress sword clinging against her tall riding boots. The buttons of her best day to day uniform coat shining in the morning sun. Oh yes, with the list from Mrs. Tae, the permission from her father and convenient help acquired, she was as ready as she could be.

Now, it was time for the search to begin.

She knew Miss Megumi Shishio was somehow acquainted with Lady Kenshin. However, she had no way of knowing what their exact relationship was. And given the arcane mutterings of Lord Seijuurou last night, there was a possibility that wherever Lady Kenshin was hiding, living her quiet life, it was not a role anyone would expect to find a noble lady in.

So, the scheme she had concocted during the quiet hours of the night was simple: she would visit all the families Miss Megumi was connected with and have the Head of Castle Guard, Sagara Sanosuke-san to demand on the Prince’s authority that all the women in the house, from the lady to her daughters, relatives, visitors, even the staff to try on Lady Kenshin’s glass shoe. Given its oddities, it was a good bet that it would fit no one but the intended owner.

If it so happened that there was someone else the shoe fit but a pretty redhead, she had given Sanosuke instructions to deny and dismiss the occurrence to the best of his capability.

Now, quite understandably, Sano was not a fan of misusing his authority, but he was her friend and Kaoru knew that should the need arose, he was perfectly capable of pulling wool over anyone’s eyes.

So, the search began.

As Kaoru had suspected, the play worked like a charm: the tall and intimidating Sanosuke had no trouble to get even ladies of the noble families to fulfill the odd request of trying on someone else’s shoe. Especially when there was a promise to meet the Prince should the shoe fit. So woman after a woman, old, young, from highest ranked noble to most common serving girl, they all tried on that pink glass shoe, only to realize, that it was too loose on their dainty feet.

House after house, they visited the townhouses, manors, and apartments that Mrs. Tae had listed as Miss Megumi’s connections. The sun climbed to its axis, then started its slow descent, the morning changing to midday to afternoon, as they crossed over one name after another.

And yet, they had found nothing.

Kaoru’s bottom lip tasted like copper, as they drove out from the gates of the last manor on the list. Even her friend, Sanosuke was visibly frustrated. “Where to, then? Surely there is some place where we haven’t looked.”

“There isn’t,” Kaoru said and tore the list to pieces. “That was the last name on the list.”

“But…” Sano trailed off. “But what if we tried again tomorrow? Maybe your girl wasn’t home or something?”

Kaoru huffed and reached to rub her eyes. “There’s a limit to how many times you can badger people with a strange request and not piss them off. The last thing I want is to needlessly antagonize the local nobility. As you remember, most of the ladies you met today were at the ball yesterday, and saw me dismiss their daughters over a total newcomer.”

“You reckon they are jealous?”

“Of course they are,” Kaoru sighed. “After all, getting their daughter to marry me is a surefire bet for a rise in rank and status, for their whole family.”

Sano huffed. “Well, I can’t argue over that. Hell, I happen to punch the prince during a bar brawl and now I’m Head of the Castle Guard, my old man has a house and proper job as a gardener in the castle and even my brother and sister are in school. An association with Kamiya sure drags people up from the mud.”

The memory of that drew a smile from Kaoru. ”Well, it wasn’t much of punch. I’d call it a glancing shot at the very most. And I did get up to my feet right after, and socked you in the jaw.”

“Sure you did.” Sano laughed. “I almost felt it, too. A tiny squirt like you trying to hit me. Hah!”

“What can I say? Not all of us have been blessed with height.” Kaoru grinned ruefully.

“No,” Sano agreed, his eyes growing unusually serious. It was his best big-brother-face, the one that he so rarely directed to Kaoru. “You might not have the height, but you got tenacity by the buckets. I have never seen you give up. So why would you give up now?”

The words shook Kaoru to the core. She paused, her heart thundering in her chest. “What would you have me do then? The Shishio’s are my father’s most outspoken opposition! It’s bad enough that I showed interest in their daughter and dismissed her in favor of a more interesting newcomer… but it would be beyond the pale to go knocking on their door, and rub salt to the wound the very next day.”

Sano didn’t even blink. “But do you have a better chance to find out where your girl is?”

“No.” Kaoru had to admit. “Lord Seijuurou told me to find his daughter myself.”

“So, what are we waiting for?”

Kaoru closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Rude as it was, she had already gone door to door of all nobles who were who in the town. With this much precedence, a visit to the Shishio household would be seen as only a few more toes she had stepped on today, instead of a direct insult to her father’s long-standing political opponent.

“Alright,” She said. “Fine, let’s do it.”

“That’s our Prince Kaoru.” Sano grinned.

“But you’ll be on your own there,” Kaoru warned him. “Just run the drill as per usual. If I can possibly avoid it, I really shouldn’t show my face and risk turning this into a personal insult, not unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

“Ay, ay, sir.” Sano drew a lazy salute, and opened the carriage door, leaning out to shout to the driver, “Katsu, turn around! We have one more stop to make!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shishio townhouse was eerily silent as they pulled to the driveway. No soul was in sight, but the lights were flickering past the second floor curtains and made it apparent that the family – or at least some members of it – were home.

“Alright, then,” Kaoru whispered and signaled to Sano to step out of the carriage, then pulled the curtains shut, leaving only a subtle pace for her to watch the proceedings.

As per their routine, Sano walked to the door and knocked on it.

In mere moments, a short and dainty maid wearing a white apron over her uniform and a headscarf to cover her hair stepped out and addressed Sano. It was too far away for Kaoru to make out any particular details, but she had no doubt as to how their discussion went. She had watched this play dozens of times today.

Sure enough, after a moment, the maid gave up her protests and curtseyed deeply, before disappearing behind the grand doors, no doubt going to alert the lady of the house. Or any noble present, Kaoru corrected herself, biting her lip again. Gods, she hadn’t even made certain that Lady Shishio hadn’t left to the countryside again, hadn’t she?

Like before, Sano retreated closer to the carriage, ensuring that whatever discussion followed, Kaoru would be close enough to overhear.

Then, Lady Shishio marched out of the house, and on her heel, the ever so lovely Miss Megumi.

“Good day, sir,” Lady Yumi started, poised, elegant and deadly as a cobra flaring its hood. “What brings you to our humble doorstep today? My maid mentioned something about a decree by the Crown Prince Kamiya himself?”

Sano straightened to his full height and cleared his throat. “Yes, my lady – that is correct. Crown Prince Kamiya Kaoru has requested that every woman in the house steps out, and tries on this shoe.”

Lady Yumi’s eyes fell to the pillow Sano was holding, looking at the pink glass slipper like it was dirty.

“I see,” She uttered, voice cool as midwinter blizzard. “I guess we must, then. Please, hold it out for me.”

Sano kneeled, holding out the shoe –

And Lady Yumi took hold of her daughter’s shoulder, slipping it on. As expected, it lurched, much too large on her dainty feet.

“Thank you, my lady,” Sano said, keeping his voice carefully bland. He turned to Miss Megumi, “If you would, Lady..?”

“Shishio – Lady Shishio Megumi.” Miss Megumi said and let on a knowing smile. “We have met before, haven’t we – Sir Sagara?”

“I remember that,” Sano let out a sheepish laugh. He held out the shoe to her. “But please, if you would.”

Miss Megumi’s didn’t say anything more, but her smile gained an edge to it as she, too, tried on the shoe. It was a better fit, but still not an exact match.

“Thank you, my ladies,” Sano inclined his head and stood up. “Could you please summon all the female staff you have here? I’m afraid the Prince’s decree was very clear – I need to have all the women in the house to test the shoe’s fit.”

Lady Yumi raised her brow.

Kaoru’s hands drew to fists, and she held out her breath: this is it, this is my last chance-

“We have no female staff,” Lady Yumi said. “Megumi and I are only women present.”

What?

Sano cleared his throat pointedly. “My lady, I am acting as the Crown Prince’s voice. Lying to me bears the same punishment as lying to a member of the Royal Family.” Like everyone in the kingdom knew, this meant treason, a crime punishable by death.

And still, Lady Yumi didn’t bat an eyelash. “I am aware. However, that doesn’t change the facts. I don’t have any women in my employ.”

At her side, Miss Megumi’s smile grew tense and she looked aside like she wanted to say something-

“Lady,” Sano started, his voice gaining an edge to it and he pointed towards the grand doors, where Shishio’s maid was following on their conversation. “Your maid, she is right there.”

Lady Yumi turned to look over her shoulder and asked slowly – her voice almost lazy. “Oh, you mean Kenshin?”

Kaoru sat up, by some miracle managing to hold back the cheer rising from her throat in time. Yes! I found her! At last! But she couldn’t give out she was here, not if she could possibly avoid it…

“Yes, if that’s her name.” Sano said and addressed the maid, “Please, miss – join us.”

Sano can handle this, Kaoru told to herself. The shoe would fit and then Sano would ask Lady Kenshin to step to the carriage, and then – then, they could discuss this out in private, without causing a mortal insult to lady Shishio.

Lady Yumi smiled, and raised her voice, “Come on then, Kenshin. You heard Sir Sagara, didn’t you?”

Hesitant as a fawn, her face pale as a sheet, Lady Kenshin walked closer.

Kaoru’s throat tightened at the sight of her unhappiness, but she bit on her lip and leaned closer, trying to press every single detail to her mind. A maid! Lady Kenshin, the daughter of Hiko Seijuurou the 13th had been working as a maid! It seemed so far fetched, that even now, Kaoru could hardly believe it!

…but damn, that maid’s dress looks cute on her.

Kaoru shook off the errant thought of her head, forcing herself to focus. There was something wrong here, it was obvious by the tension in the air, how scared and sad Lady Kenshin seemed, but they would get the bottom of this. They would.

And everything would be fine.

Lady Yumi motioned Lady Kenshin to join her by her side and drew her hand over her shoulder. “Kenshin, dear – why don’t you tell Sir Sagara yourself why the Prince’s degree doesn’t include you?”

Lady Kenshin’s eyes widened, and she gasped-

“Or would you rather that I do it?” Lady Yumi smiled sweetly. “Remember, lying to the Prince’s designated voice is like you would lie to the Prince himself and we all know how bad that is, don’t we? A treason, a crime punishable by death.”

“Mother…“ Miss Megumi said. “Isn’t that a bit too cruel-“

“Silence,” Lady Yumi smiled at Megumi. “Don’t think I have forgotten your stunt yesterday.”

“But...” Miss Megumi hesitated.

“All choices have consequences,” Lady Yumi said to her daughter. “You got what you wanted, but there’s a price for everything and it’s time you learned that as well.”

“Ladies,“ Sano said, his confusion evident in his voice. “What’s going on here? Why wouldn’t your maid, Kenshin – was that your name? Why wouldn’t she be part of the Prince’s degree? I thought I was being clear: the status doesn’t matter. We just need to find the woman who this shoe belongs to.”

“Well?” Lady Yumi prompted, pressing her hand on lady Kenshin’s shoulder.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Lady Kenshin fell to her knees, looking at the shoe with sheer despair in her eyes…

And Kaoru, Kaoru couldn’t take it anymore. She rushed out of the carriage. “Enough” That’s enough – all of you!”

“Oh, Prince Kaoru – Welcome.” Lady Yumi turned to her, calm as ever like there was nothing out of ordinary going on. “What a pleasant surprise! I’m afraid we weren’t expecting you.”

“Please, take your hand away from Lady Kenshin,” Kaoru growled, “It’s obvious that she doesn’t want it there.”

“Did you hear that, Kenshin? The Prince called you a lady. Oh dear,” Lady Yumi tittered, then kneeled by Lady Kenshin’s side, stroking her hand on her back, like she was comforting her. “Why don’t you tell him the truth? Haven’t you let this farce continue long enough already?”

“The truth? Of what, pray tell?” Kaoru asked, her voice wavering with fury all but boiling over.

Lady Kenshin inhaled weakly, but then finally looked up and met Kaoru’s eyes. “T-this one… I…” She smiled a vane, terribly bleak smile. “I was born a third child to a rice-farmer like I told you. But I… I was raised a son, not a daughter.”

“A son?” Kaoru repeated, unable to believe her ears.

“Hiko, too, adopted a son to be his heir.” Lady Kenshin continued, her voice becoming smaller and she looked to her lap, twisting her fingers. “It’s why this one was taught swordsmanship, why one’s dance lessons aimed to teach one to lead… even why that shoe is such an odd size.”

Lady Kenshin let out a breathless, utterly hollow laugh.

“It’s why this one could never become what you need, Prince Kaoru. You need a woman – and it took me sixteen long years to understand that I was one.”

“…Sixteen?” Kaoru asked, “Is that why you ran away from Lord Seijuurou’s household at that age?”

Lady Kenshin tensed but inclined her head.

Kaoru breathed out loud, all her anger and tension trickling away. The pieces of the puzzle were finally snapping in their place, unveiling the mystery surrounding Lady Kenshin… and yet, Kaoru didn’t feel angry or betrayed. No, for all the many things Lady Kenshin had withheld from her, she hadn’t stated a single lie outright.

Funny, how such a thing could matter.

Kaoru smiled a little, stepped forward and knelt in front of Lady Kenshin, “I appreciate you telling me this, my lady. But the way I see it, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“What?”

“The hell?”

Shouts of surprise echoed around them, but Kaoru could only pay attention to one of them, the faint, disbelieving-

“Oro?”

She smiled, utterly charmed and clasped Lady Kenshin’s hands. “You might have been born as a son, but I don’t see a son in front of me now. You said it yourself too, didn’t you? You are a woman.”

“But,” Lady Kenshin said, glancing down to her bosom, “What about-“

Kaoru raised her voice, without bothering look behind her. “Sano, if a fully grown woman says she is a woman, who would have a right to deny her claim?”

“Errr,” Sano hesitated. “I don’t—“

“Please, bear with me.” Kaoru smiled at Lady Kenshin and glanced over her shoulder towards the man whose manner had grown extremely awkward. “Sano, you are the Head of the Castle Guard. You know the laws better than anyone in this company, don’t you? So if you had to make a decision, right here and now, who would have the right to deny a woman’s claim of her gender?”

“Well, no one,” Sano grimaced. “Except, perhaps the head of her family, if said woman was minor, or suspected of not being in her right mind. For anyone else, they’d need to present proof. But over such a matter… any proof they could provide or demand would be considered harassment, especially if said woman was of noble caste, and at that point – it would come down to the royal ruling, as you all know. “

“That’s what I thought,” Kaoru nodded sagely. “And Miss Megumi, weren’t you present yesterday, when Lord Seijuurou introduced me to his only daughter, publicly declaring her as his heir and offered the proof of her adoption?”

Miss Megumi huffed softly and then smiled. “Yes, I was. I heard it myself.”

“But that’s like trying to turn oil into water!” Lady Yumi hissed, “It doesn’t work that way! A man is a man, and a woman is a woman, and there’s no changing it, no matter what delusions a person might get into their head.”

“Perhaps,” Kaoru said quietly, tightening her hold on Lady Kenshin’s hand. “But who’d claim otherwise?”

Lady Yumi looked at her, then opened her mouth-

“My ladies, My Prince,” Sano interrupted them. “As intriguing as this discussion is, you do remember that any disputes between nobles are solved with a Royal Ruling? Ever since Prince Kaoru reached his majority and King Koshijirou declared him to be his heir, his word has been the royal decree.”

Kaoru waited, tense – looking at Lady Yumi.

Lady Yumi’s expression was difficult to describe: fury, defiance, and frustration battled in her eyes. A moment turned to two, three, four…

And still, Kaoru waited, daring her to say the words.

At her side, Lady Kenshin was silent as a ghost.

Lady Yumi looked at Kaoru, then at Kenshin… and her expression grew sour. She gritted her teeth. But finally, ever so reluctant, she inclined her head and curtseyed. “Very well. If my Prince so decides to turn oil into water, then the oil must be water, even against all the evidence to contrary.“

Kaoru rose to stand, pulling Lady Kenshin up to her feet with her. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“Don’t thank me!” Lady Yumi hissed, her eyes dark and angry. “It’s not right, but against the Prince’s words… I cannot do more than state the truth.”

“Mother,” Miss Megumi whispered.

Lady Yumi raised her hand, to still any further words from her daughter and looked aside, about to walk away.

Kaoru struggled to held back her smile. That’s right, you rigid and vindictive-

Lady Kenshin wavered at Kaoru’s side, and she reached forward, whispering, “please-“

Just one word, too low for anyone but her to hear and Kaoru’s heart swelled. Even after being subjected to those harsh, abusive words, Lady Kenshin hadn’t broken down or given in to anger. No. Even now, Lady Kenshin was trying to mend her relationship with Lady Yumi. It showed maturity, the type of strength Kaoru had always struggled with and what her teachers and her father always tried to get her to consider.

And at that moment, it finally struck Kaoru that she couldn’t let this incident sour the relationship with Shishio clan either. Lady Shishio had acquitted because she had no other option left – but she was still a dangerous foe, both as a political player in her own right and as the wife of Lord Shishio Makoto, King Koshijirou’s most outspoken political opposition. If Kaoru left things like this, she would soon find Lady Shishio’s wrath in front of her, in front of Kenshin and their happiness together.

No, somehow… she needed to find a way to do damage control. And quickly! And the only way to do that would be to find a way to give Lady Shishio something she wanted more than the revenge.

Kaoru looked at Lady Kenshin, a thousand thoughts rushing through her mind: that maid’s dress, the mess things had turned here, even the relationship Lady Kenshin had with her father, Lord Seijuurou that was only given a chance to start healing now, over a decade after the fact…

No, as quick and dirty as it was, Kaoru couldn’t think but only one way how she could solve this mess in a way that would give all the parties with something they wanted.

“Lady Kenshin, I know this comes too soon, but…” Kaoru said, went on one knee and looked up the Lady Kenshin’s eyes, “marry me, please?”

“Ororo?” Lady Kenshin gaped, eyes as round as teacups.

“Kaoru!” Sano’s hissed at her left. “Your father’s going to kill me!”

“He won’t,” Kaoru said, determinately maintaining her smile, her eyes never leaving Lady Kenshin’s. “Please, my lady. The moment you walked into the ballroom, you had my heart. And then, you sealed the deal by laughing at my stupid jokes. Please, you are the one and only I want by my side.”

“That’s,” Lady Kenshin’s flushed red, and she looked aside. “Prince Kaoru, you really are too much.”

“Yet, hopefully not enough?” Kaoru suggested, letting a hint of humor to her tone. “My lady, please say yes already! My knees are starting ache!”

Lady Kenshin let out the most unladylike snort and covered her face in surprise. “We can’t have that, no can we?” She finally stated. “What are you, eighteen and in perfect health? And yet you still complain about bad knees?”

“Well, how else am I supposed to make you laugh?” Kaoru complained. “Come on, Lady Kenshin – say yes.”

“Fine,” Lady Kenshin looked up, a shy smile on her lips. “Yes, I’ll marry you – But! This one will get to say when we keep the wedding, that one will.”

“Deal,” Kaoru grinned, and kissed the back of her hand, “As my lady commands.”

“Y-you flatterer!” Lady Kenshin reddened, her blush deepening, “You do that on purpose, that you do.”

“I do,” Kaoru agreed easily. “But I can’t help myself, you blush so pretty.”

Lady Kenshin huffed, her embarrassment obvious.

A fond feeling curled at the pit of Kaoru’s stomach, but she knew she had to keep up with the momentum. She clasped Lady Kenshin’s hand more firmly, the only warning she could afford to give, and turned to Lady Yumi, “Lady Shishio, given that we seem to have royal wedding incoming – perhaps, you and your daughter would like to help in their planning?”

At Kaoru’s side, Lady Kenshin tensed.

Kaoru rubbed the back of her hand, running her thumb up and down in loose circles, and faced the Shishio women. “Of course, you’d need to work together with my lady fiancée, to make sure everything is like she desires, but I think – perhaps, it could even be good? A chance to mend bridges before they are lost?”

Lady Yumi’s eyes were hard as stone as she eyed Kaoru from head to toe – like she had never seen her before.

Miss Megumi thought, her gaze was locked with Lady Kenshin’s.

Finally, after a notable pause, Lady Kenshin whispered from Kaoru’s side, “T-this one would like that, truly. Lady Yumi offered this one a home and honorable work, a chance for one to have a good life when this one had all but lost hope. This one would like to repay that, if one could.”

“It’s a good opportunity,” Lady Megumi said, softly. “Please, mother – let’s accept it. We can turn it to our advantage.”

Lady Yumi’s expression grew cooler with each word. Finally, she sighed and curtseyed. “Thank you. We’ll accept.”

Then, she turned to Miss Megumi, “It’s your victory. Please, handle this opportunity with care.”

And she walked away, without looking back.

Miss Megumi looked at Kaoru and Kenshin, one soulful glance before she rushed after her lady mother, following her into the house.

“Huh,” Sano said and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “That was intense.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Kaoru agreed numbly.

“Lady Yumi is a strong woman,” Lady Kenshin murmured. “But today, you not only defeated her but then also stole her rightful revenge from her, so you did.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said. “But, I… it was the only way I could make sure she wouldn’t try to hurt us afterward!”

Lady Kenshin looked at her and tilted her head aside. “This one didn’t say you did anything wrong. If anything, you ensured that we could have a future, that you did.”

“But-“

“Prince Kaoru,” Lady Kenshin interrupted her, and bobbed a curtsey, “Thank you for your kindness.”

Kaoru stared at her numbly, before exhaling slowly. “Thank you, too. For understanding why I had to make that offer. Not many would have, after all the things she said to you.”

“Perhaps not,” Lady Kenshin agreed. “But, she was doing only as she thought was right. And as much as it hurt, she was right in one thing – this one should have told you the truth sooner instead of running away, that she should have.”

Kaoru paused, not quite sure how to answer to that. She didn’t necessarily agree. After all, everything had turned out more or less fine. But at the same time, if Lady Kenshin had just confessed earlier, perhaps some of this mess could have been avoided.

“I… it’s fine.” Kaoru finally said. “Just know that you can talk to me about anything, alright? I’ll promise I’ll listen. Always.”

“Alright,” Lady Kenshin agreed softly.

“And please, the next time you feel like running – give me a bit of a warning?

“Oro?”

“You see, I don’t mind chasing,” Kaoru explained, rubbing the back of her head. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask my father for a day off beforehand. The Crown Prince’s duties, you know?”

Lady Kenshin’s eyes sparkled, and she let out a laugh. “Gods, what’s with you? You are constantly trying to make this one laugh, that you are.”

“I hope you don’t mind?” Kaoru dimpled. “Because I warn you, I’m in this for the long run.”

“And that’s it, enough of your mushy stuff!” Sano interrupted them, waving his arm between them. “Seriously, shouldn’t we leave already? It’s getting late and still, you two flirt! Surely you can continue that at the castle?”

“Way to spoil the mood, Sano,” Kaoru said grumbled, looking up.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it.” Sano shrugged, ever the diplomat and headed back to their carriage.

“He is right, that he is,” Lady Kenshin murmured, stepping forward too. “Besides, we should probably go, before Lady Yumi becomes more upset.”

“Okay,” Kaoru said. “But… do you need anything? Personal possessions or something?”

Lady Kenshin looked at the house. “No, not really,” she decided after a moment. “Everything one truly needs, one always carries wherever she goes.”

“Even the things you need for…” Kaoru bit on her lip, before waving vaguely toward her chest.

Lady Kenshin looked at her strangely. “Whatever this one wears should be enough, and for anything else – well, this one can sew, that she can.”

“Alright,” Kaoru said. “Well, after you, my lady.”

“Charmer,” Lady Kenshin smiled.

“I do try,” Kaoru admitted and followed Lady Kenshin to the carriage. Sano had climbed next to the driver at the front, leaving the carriage for them. Was it because he was being uncommonly gentlemanly? Or was he spooked? Or perhaps, maybe he had simply gotten his fill of Kaoru’s and her new fiancée’s ‘flirting’ as he had so delicately put it.

They climbed on, and without a further word, the driver spurred the horses and drove them off from the townhouse driveway. Lady Kenshin looked out of the window, watching its gates fade away in the distance.

It struck Kaoru suddenly, that Lady Kenshin had effectively just lost her home, her job – all the vestiges of normalcy she had obviously worked so hard to build for herself.

Kaoru felt sorry for her, but at the same time, she couldn’t regret how things had turned out. Lady Kenshin deserved so much better than a life as a maid for a vindictive woman with a vile tongue and no respect for Lady Kenshin’s words or requests. The way Lady Yumi had forced Lady Kenshin to confess her birth gender, how she had ignored Lady Kenshin’s obvious distress and then went on to insist that despite all the evidence on the contrary, Kenshin was a man… Kaoru drew her hands to fist, digging her nails into the skin of her palm. Grr! Sometimes I hate being the Prince! I’d have loved to say my piece to that woman!

Seriously, if she hadn’t needed to consider the ramifications to her future happiness with Lady Kenshin and to her father’s rule, to the kingdom – she would have. No one had the right to trample on someone’s wishes like that, least of all over something as insignificant as gender.

Besides, Lady Kenshin passed so well as a woman, in manner and looks both, that even now, when Kaoru knew what she was hiding, she couldn’t see it.

Well, there was that shoe size… but there were women with large feet, weren’t there?

And okay, Lady Kenshin’s voice was a tad low in tone, but from the very first time Kaoru had heard it, she had thought it sexy, the sort of soft timbre that went straight to her libido.

Really, from her short stature and lean build to her long vibrant hair, large eyes and pretty face, to the narrow waist and slight curve of bosom her dress hinted, Lady Kenshin looked female to the bone, seemingly effortlessly.

Honestly, Kaoru was a little jealous.

Even when it had been announced to everyone in the kingdom that a prince had been born to the King – even now, when people met the Crown Prince for the first time, they had to take a second glance. If Kaoru were a little taller, a bit thicker in build or if her face was a bit rougher, her life would be so much easier.

Not then again, given how faultless Kenshin’s looks were, maybe she could have a tip or two on how Kaoru could try to improve her own disguise? Kaoru wetted her lips, about to make a comment, when she suddenly remembered one tiny little thing she had forgotten to mention….

She paled.

“Oro, Prince Kaoru? What’s wrong?”

Lady Kenshin, the woman she had just asked to marry her, had agreed to marry a man.

Oh, gods, what should she say? How could she make this right? She couldn’t take Lady Kenshin at home and introduce her to her father, not when she didn’t know what she had agreed to! Kaoru stared at Lady Kenshin in horror.

Lady Kenshin leaned forward, her worry obvious.

Kaoru shied away, her hand clasped in front of her mouth in shock – her words, her charm, all her great explanations grumbling to dust before she could verbalize them.

“Prince Kaoru,” Lady Kenshin asked, “Please-”

Kaoru inhaled sharply, and then, the words just bubbled out, without her say so. “I, I’m so sorry! I asked you to marry me, without even telling you what you were agreeing to! And then I even had the gall to criticize you for running away and not telling me your secrets, when I, I – when I was doing the same thing, all the damn time – gods, I’m such an idiot, a selfish idiot-“

“Oro?”

That cute habit of Lady Kenshin’s, this time it made Kaoru feel even worse.

“I can’t even explain this thing right, can I?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself. “That’s me, the ditsy Kaoru, always making a mess.”

Lady Kenshin stared at her, befuddled.

Kaoru looked up, smiling wanly. “I, ah… I need to tell you something. But first, for whatever it's worth, I am sorry. I have made you a great injustice by withholding a pretty big secret from you. I… I understand if you want to break our engagement because of this, and obviously, you don’t need to come to the castle with me, either. I’ll tell Sano to take us to the hotel Lord Seijuurou is staying, or if you’d prefer someone else, we can do that too.”

“But why?” Lady Kenshin paused, but instead of fear, her eyes narrowed with – anger? “What is it? Why would you suddenly decide such a thing on this one’s behalf?”

Kaoru blinked, startled.

“Um,” She hesitated. “I… I’m not a prince. Err, not where it matters.”

Lady Kenshin froze, her gaze becoming utterly unreadable.

And Kaoru scrambled, trying to explain. “Um, you see – a bit like you, I have to disguise my body because unlike everyone thinks, I wasn’t born a man, and I’m not really a man at all. Um, I just dress like a man, to keep up the role because it’s better for everyone thinks my father has a male heir. It creates this illusion of starting the dynasty, and stabilizes his rule, you see.”

“Ah,” Lady Kenshin’ stated, her tone strangely… dry? ”So, that’s why.”

What? What was with that lackluster reaction? Kaoru stared, taken aback.

The silence dredged between them.

And finally, Kaoru couldn’t take it anymore. “Why aren’t you shouting at me?”

“Should this one be?” Lady Kenshin asked, tilting her head aside. “Not that this one isn’t a tad… annoyed, but that’s because you said you’d cast this one aside, and break off the engagement, just like that, like it would be easy.”

“No! No, no, never think that!” Kaoru sprung across the seat, her hands on Lady Kenshin’s shoulders. “I… it breaks my heart, but I can’t expect you to marry me, not when you fell for a man, instead of a woman in disguise. Even if we would like each other, I can’t give you what you want. Worse, the minute after we step into the castle, everyone will know you are mine. Even if we called the wedding off, that reputation would follow you anywhere you went! I can’t that to you, not to you – never to you.”

Their faces were so close, that Kaoru could see nothing but Lady Kenshin’s beautiful violet eyes, wide in shock and–

A hand slipped behind Kaoru’s neck and pulled her off-balance, and suddenly, her mouth was on Lady Kenshin’s, their lips molding against each other's, tongues meeting in the middle… and finally, Kaoru realized that Lady Kenshin was kissing her.

What? Why? She wanted to ask, but she had no breath to form questions and really, questions were rather pointless, weren’t they?

Lady Kenshin was kissing her.

And gods, what a kiss it was! She gasped for breath and dove back in, kissing her back with all her passion, her fears and doubts bleeding away from her with each consequent meeting of their lips.

How long they kissed, she couldn’t tell – but finally, the need to breathe become too pressing. She pulled back, drawing air to her burning lungs, trying to make sense of to the world she had turned upside down with a single act.

Lady Kenshin covered her reddened lips with her hand, an enchanting blush on her cheeks.

“Uh, not that I minded that, “Kaoru said, “but, um?”

“It was the fastest way this one could come up with to explain,” Lady Kenshin said, avoiding her gaze. “Um, the thing is, this one has never cared for men… romantically, that is. And um, one knew about you, that one did.”

“Huh?” Kaoru blinked, not quite sure she had heard right. “You knew? That I was a woman?”

“Yes. Since the ball, that one did.”

“But,” Kaoru gaped. “But how? Is there something missing in my disguise, or what?”

“Err,” Lady Kenshin hesitated, “This one can sew, as she told you. When one knows what to look for, one can see notice the padding and hidden seams in your clothing. And your voice, it’s light – like it has never broken.”

“Damn it,” Kaoru cursed. “I should have known it’s the damn voice that would give me away. I just can’t seem to keep it low enough.”

“It’s tricky, to learn to control one’s voice,” Lady Kenshin agreed, her lips curving to a little smile.

“Anything else?” Kaoru asked, honestly curious.

Lady Kenshin pointed upwards, at her neck. “Err, your neck-scarf, too. You tugged it loose before we headed for the gardens. It’s what clued all the pieces together, that it was.”

“Wait a minute!” Kaoru paused. “You didn’t figure it out before I gave it away myself! You little minx! You were totally fooled when we were dancing! That’s why you were so stiff and hesitant! You thought you were dancing with a man, weren’t you?”

“So one did,” Lady Kenshin agreed, smiling, “a cute man with the most charming smile. This one was all but starting to doubt oneself, furious for being so easily shaken. But then… well, it was a relief, to learn the truth.”

“Oh?” Kaoru grinned. “So you were interested, but just played coy? You truly are a minx, aren’t you? Playing hard to catch, letting me do all chase…”

Lady Kenshin reddened. “Don’t read too deeply on it!”

“But it’s the nicest thing you have said to me all day!” Kaoru grinned and held her hand to her chest dramatically. She had always loved romantic plays and the words of her latest favorite character came to her mind, “Oh my Princess, what tales they will tell about our love, how our hearts were shaken from the first sight, gravitating towards each other, locked in eternal dance-“

“Wasn’t it bad enough to be forced to listen to Hiko’s bad poetry for years?” Lady Kenshin pouted.

Kaoru stopped, but wasn’t deterred by the least. Lady Kenshin didn’t dislike her words, not really – she just said she did. Her blush gave her away there. Kaoru smiled, utterly charmed. “Well, if my lady so wishes, I guess I must figure out some other way to express my fondness.”

Slowly, Kaoru leaned closer and pecked the softest kiss on Lady Kenshin’s lips.

Lady Kenshin tilted her head, leaning back slightly, all but pulling her in – and the one kiss turned to two, three, four…

Oh, well – reciting romantic dramas has never been my forte. Maybe it would be better to leave that for the professionals, Kaoru decided, burying her hands to Lady Kenshin's’ hair, keeping on kissing.

After all, with this woman, a hundred kisses, no – not even a thousand kisses would be enough.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was strange, how life could change so quickly, so thoroughly – that even now, after having lived through every spin and turn, Kenshin could hardly believe it.

She frowned thoughtfully, taking a good look at her mirror image.

He face was clear and youthful, no signs of her true age visible to the casual observer: no crow’s feet, laugh lines or even a hint of a shadow under her eyes. Her hair was dressed into loose curls, the long tail tumbling over her shoulder in a mass of fiery waves. It had taken the hairdresser better part of an hour to create that effect: the impression that beauty was effortless. Her dress, too, was deceptively simple – but when one looked closer, one could see the most beautiful details embroidered into it and should she walk, it would flow like a dream made of finest silks and lace.

If she had seen the woman in the mirror at the street, or an event or a gala, her first instinct would be to curtsey. Only people, who wore such finery and took such care in their looks, were the highest of high.

Kenshin looked aside, an uncomfortable feeling curling at the pit of her belly. She reached upwards, her fingers finding the curled ends of her hair to play with as she struggled to wrangle that ugly feeling into submission.

It was perfectly normal to feel awkward and nervous, she knew that.

Miss Kaoru had told her so time and time again. She had kept insisting to her that these feelings were not a weakness, that as long as they were true to each other and talked about these things, it would be okay.

And yet, yet – when Kenshin looked at the mirror, she still had trouble seeing herself instead of a stranger wearing the clothes she had picked for the day.

It was stupid, but…

In all the many roles she had been in her life; a maid, a seamstress, a cleaning lady, a cook and a waitress, a noble’s heir and even before all that, just a poor rice farmer’s third child, never once had she felt so out of the water. Like she was an imposter in her life and all these great people around her hadn’t simply realized it before. That if she made a misstep, a mistake, it would all fall down like a deck of cards and she’d lose everything, again. Kenshin shuddered, then determinately turned around and walked away from the damn mirror.

She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Then she repeated the motion, again, and again. She forced herself to breathe deeply, to reign in her jumpy heart into a calmer rhythm.

Miss Kaoru had said it was okay. That people knew and loved her, that even if she made a mistake, it would be okay.

And Kenshin trusted her. She did. And because of that, she would fight these fears lurking in the back of her mind for the hope that one day, she too, could believe in those daring words, and learn to accept that a woman like her could deserve a life like this.

A gentle knock cut through her morose thoughts.

Kenshin tensed and then drew a smile on her lips, and called out: “Come in, please.”

It was Kaoru’s father, King Koshijirou.

Instantly, Kenshin fell to a deep curtsey, “My king, how may this unworthy one help you?”

A notable silence followed before King Koshijirou cleared his throat. “It will take some more time before they are ready at downstairs. So I was thinking, that maybe now would be a good moment for us to talk, just the two of us.”

Kenshin swallowed, her throat gone dry. But somehow, she managed a faint little nod.

Footsteps echoed on the marble floor. “Be at ease.” The King said. “And if you’d join me, please?”

“Aa,” Kenshin agreed numbly.

The King was gazing out of the grand windows, watching the people bustling on the yard, quests and dignitaries, plus all those servants dashing back and forth, making sure everything was ready in the gardens.

“They call it the event of the century already,” King Koshijirou mused out loud. “No wonder why, it’s grander than any celebration we have had during my rule, or during the old dynasties. Just the flower arrangements alone have made an army of gardeners busier than ever before in their lives. And don’t even mention the food. I’m sure Mrs. Tae will be ready to take a month’s extended holiday after this is over.”

“Lady Megumi had a grand vision to start with, but then Hiko dismissed it and challenged her to think even bigger,” Kenshin murmured quietly. “This one tried to say no, but… even Prince Kaoru found their fighting too hilarious to step in, that she did.”

“Well, it’s certainly something else to see my old friend Lord Seijuurou to get so invested in anything.” King Koshijirou huffed. “Besides an event of this magnitude has a way of bringing people together. I don’t believe I have ever seen my nobility so keen on trying to outdo each other in displays of generosity.”

“They have been very kind, that they have,” Kenshin agreed.

“It has nothing to do with kindness.” King Koshijirou smiled wryly. “It’s a game of one-upmanship, a way to showcase their status.”

“Aa,” Kenshin agreed blandly.

King Koshijirou’s brows rose, just a hint. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“Oro?”

“You see far more than you let on, it’s obvious when I stop to think about it. Even Kaoru has said to me as much.” King Koshijirou stated. “And yet, I must confess to having trouble reading you. My eyes tell me one thing, but my mind tells another.”

Kenshin looked aside, her stomach lurching with guilt and something far worse – fear. Was this the moment when King Koshijirou told her that the play was over? That he wouldn’t suffer to have a person like her so close to his dear daughter? That Kenshin should pack up her things and leave, never to return?

“I… I, ah,” Kenshin hesitated, trying to find the words, “If this one has offended-“

“What? No,” King Koshijirou said. “Why ever would you think you have done something wrong? No, it’s nothing of the sort. If anything, you have taken everyone by surprise with how well you have adapted to the court life. And with how well you handle yourself among all these seemingly benign requests, attempts at one-upmanship, in-fighting, and lobbying that’s constantly going on in this place.”

Kenshin blinked, looking up – King Koshijirou was smiling at her?

“No, what I was trying to say,” King paused, hesitating for just a moment. “I didn’t give you the best welcome, and I’m sorry for it. If you would allow me the chance, I would like to redeem myself to you.”

But that – that was…. that didn’t make any sense!

King Koshijirou had reacted like any father would have, when he heard his only daughter had decided to propose to a stranger, who wasn’t even a proper woman, not like people had grown to understand the gender, after knowing them one day. If anything, King Koshijirou’s reaction had been tame. He had just said he thought Kaoru had made a reckless decision, and then walked away, without shouting once.

Kenshin twisted her hands. “It… It was your right. You were only concerned, that you were. ”

“Perhaps. But as a reaction for the kind of man, the father I want to be? It was narrow-minded.” King Koshijirou’s gaze softened. “You see, even if I don’t understand you and the sacrifices you make to live as you do – I need to be able to accept that it isn’t my place to question your or my daughter’s choices.”

“Oh,” Kenshin swallowed, stunned.

King Koshijirou continued, “Kaoru is my beloved daughter, the sunshine of my days – and I love her dearly. I trust her, and because of that, I need to also trust and value her choices, her judgment. That’s how it works. You can’t expect trust, not without giving it in turn.”

There was something constricting Kenshin’s throat, a feeling so overwhelming that it was almost painful.

King Koshijirou placed his hands on her shoulders, “My daughter thinks the world of you. I have watched her look at you with such an eager attention that anyone would be jealous. I have watched how you have made her laugh, how you have brought joy to her days, no matter how long or arduous her duties. I have seen her grow calmer, and learn to think before committing to the reckless decisions she would have once made without a second thought.”

“But, my King,” Kenshin whispered. “T-this one hasn’t done anything, really–“

“Kenshin, just being here and living with us, you have already changed everything.” King Koshijirou said to her, his eyes serious. “Thank you.”

And he hugged her closed, wrapping his arms around her.

Kenshin stared blindly at the solid chest her face was pressed into, her mind blank in shock –

“And given that you are going to be marrying my daughter today,” King Koshijirou said softly, “Could you please drop the titles and start calling me father? Or if it is too much and makes you feel uncomfortable, could you at least address me as something else than the King? I, too, am just a man, a father – and I’d like to enjoy that when I can.”

Drawing a breath, Kenshin let herself to relax into the warmth of the hug. “T-this one will try to remember that… father.”

King Koshijirou straightened and shot her a pleased smile. “Thank you, my dear.”

Kenshin looked down, feeling the heat on her cheeks.

“My, my, no wonder Kaoru fell for you so fast!” King Koshijirou laughed. “I dare say the bards are going to be singing nothing but praise about our new Princesses’ beauty and grace quite some time. Not something I can fault them in the least.”

That wasn’t about to make Kenshin any more coherent! She sputtered. “But this one… is it truly okay for you? That is to say, that one like this,” Kenshin waved at herself, “would be a Princess?”

King Koshijirou paused. “Why wouldn’t it be? You are who Kaoru chose to stand beside her, in the good and the bad.”

“But…” Kenshin tried again, “It’s such a grand title, for one born to a status so low, and-”

“Kenshin,” King Koshijirou interrupted her. “Do you not want to become the Princess of Kingdoms Yamato and Ezzo?”

“N-no! I, this one- one means yes, one guesses, but,” Kenshin grimaced. “Isn’t it too much?”

King Koshijirou hummed, thoughtful like he was actually listening to her. “For most young women, to become the princess would be a dream come true. They would accept the title without a second thought. But you, even after living with us and being engaged to my daughter for almost a full year, you still question it?”

Kenshin bowed her head, chastised. “It’s just that, it’s such a heavy responsibility, that’s all. People hear that title, and consider this one’s words, as if expecting wisdom and the right to make a decision on the spot, that they do.”

“So they do,” King Koshijirou agreed. “A princess’ word is a word only another member of the Royal Family can question. And though people wouldn’t come to you with matters concerning the state, the ruling, the well being of the people – at least, not directly – it’s still a powerful thing to have that sort of weight in your every word and action.”

Kenshin nodded, wringing her hands. “People look up to this one, come asking for this one’s opinions, about gardens, fashion, decorations, servant’s performance… A whole lot of things and if this one indicates one way or another, they take it as an order. Like the time they suddenly decided to redo the great dining room curtains because this one said Miss Kaoru enjoyed blue over purples.”

King Koshijirou burst into laughter. “So that’s why we got the new curtains! I had wondered if the purple offended your sensibilities, or if you simply wanted to make your mark on the castle. Which would be your right, most certainly.”

“Oro?”

“This is your home, the same as it’s mine or Kaoru’s.” King Koshijirou explained. “Besides, I wouldn’t know anything about aesthetics. And Kaoru, as wonderful as she is, she has taken her role to the heart. Her interests are rather – ah, well – masculine. I’m afraid she doesn’t have much interest in refining her feminine viewpoint. So really, I would appreciate if you took time and reviewed the decorations. The castle is not only our home but serves a role as an official residence of the King. We wouldn’t want to be seen as lacking in taste, or look like We are old-fashioned, you see. So please, do change things as you see fit.”

Not quite sure what to say to that, Kenshin paused and offered a curtsey. “As my King commands.”

“Please, just father – or Koshijirou, if you would.”

“Yes, father.” Kenshin smiled.

“And about your hesitance to your suitability to bear the title,” the King mused, “the fact that you realize the weight and responsibilities the title grants makes you a hundred times more suitable to the role than any youth seeing only the privileges of the position. So instead, having seen and lived through the hardships of my people, wouldn’t you say it makes you more adept at giving suggestions on what we could do to improve their livelihoods?”

“Oh.” Kenshin blinked. “This one… One hadn’t thought about it that way, that she hadn’t.”

King Koshijirou smiled. “So you see, even discounting the emotions, there are a great many logical reasons why you are not only good enough but perhaps even better suited to the role of the Princess than the other young women Kaoru met and evaluated before she fell in love with you.” He raised his hand to her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “No, you’ll make a fine Princess to my kingdom – I’ll have no doubt about that.”

“I…” Kenshin hesitated. “Thank you, father.”

“There we go.”

A loud knock on the suite’s doors startled them both. “My King, Lady Seijuurou,” Mrs. Tae’s voice called out. “Lord Seijuurou told me to let you know that everything is ready for you.”

“Ah!” King said. “Thank you, Tae – we’ll be with you shortly. Please, let Lord Seijuurou know that I shan’t make his daughter late to her own wedding.”

“As you wish, my King,” Mrs. Tae said.

King Koshijirou offered his arm to Kenshin. “Shall we? After all, I did make quite a hefty promise to your lord father just now. It would be grounds for war, should I betray my word on a matter like this.”

“We couldn’t have that,” Kenshin huffed fondly, and reached to take the King’s arm for the very first time.

The King inclined his head, pleased and then escorted her out of the sanctuary of her suite.

As they walked side by side, their pace respectful of the pace Kenshin could manage to keep up with her high heels and the long, impressive train of her wedding dress, Kenshin couldn’t feel even a hint of her earlier fears or doubts bothering her.

No, for the first time in this year she had lived in the grand castle, being stared and watched no matter where she went, what she did – she felt calm, at peace with her choices.

As Mrs. Tae had warned them, Hiko was pacing in front of the castle’s grand doors. That door would open to the castle’s garden, the avenue for the wedding that had been chosen to celebrate the scene of Prince Kaoru’s and Kenshin’s first meeting and the fantastic love story that had spurred forth from that moment.

“Finally,” Hiko scowled. “Wasn’t it supposed to be a little chat, not an hour-long private meeting? Your damn son has sent me a dozen messages already, asking what’s the hold-up and don’t even let me get started on Megumi’s comments-”

“So it was,” King Koshijirou said. “But sometimes, some discussions need to be given the time they need, no matter what important things are held up as result.”

“I see,” Hiko stated, his voice so dry that it could have seen as an insult.

King Koshijirou merely laughed it out. “I’ll leave your daughter to you and be off, to let Kaoru know that we are ready.”

“You do that,” Hiko said, his voice full of snark.

Even for Kenshin, it was unprecedented to see Hiko this frazzled and she had to look aside, lest she insult him by showing her amusement. Ever the perfectionist, Hiko’s high esteem of his own capabilities and his sincere attempt to try to get to know Kenshin once more, had ended up with him being far more invested in the wedding arrangements than anyone would have expected.

Though perhaps Miss Megumi had something to do with it, Kenshin mused. After all, even at his most temperamental, Hiko had never been quite as abrasive as he was with Megumi on daily basis. It was almost like it was on purpose…

“Kenshin,” Hiko cut her thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Kenshin said – and to her own surprise – she really meant it. “This one is good, that she is.”

Hiko’s brows furrowed, but he nodded. "Very good.” After a moment’s silence, he cleared his throat pointedly and offered his arm to her. “Let’s get this thing over and done with.”

Seeing how uncomfortable he seemed, Kenshin couldn’t hold back her smile any longer. She took his arm, this strange warmth spreading inside her chest. If even her adopted father, the man who couldn’t stand the presence of people for long periods of time, who had never felt at ease with showing affection – he, too, was trying to overcome his discomfort for Kenshin’ s sake.

“Thank you,” Kenshin said. “For everything.”

Hiko raised his brow. “The hell if I know what’s going on in that head of yours,” he finally scoffed. "But you’re welcome. Now, draw a pretty smile to your lips and keep it up, because if you don’t, I’ll guarantee someone will decide it means you dislike them.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenshin said, straightened her back and drew her best, polite smile as instructed.

“Good girl,” Hiko muttered, and then pushed the doors open.

The sun was blinding, but Kenshin didn’t allow herself the luxury of looking aside and blinking. The hundreds, no thousand faces turned towards them, watching their every step, their expressions, noting the slightest detail in their dress. No, in her. They were all looking at her, Kenshin realized.

The men and women, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters of noble blood, all the richest and most privileged people in the country, the representatives of all the great houses in kingdoms of Ezzo and Yamato, they all were here and they were looking at her.

There was Shishio family, the bandaged and much suffered Lord Shishio and by his side, Lady Yumi and their adopted children Soujiro and Megumi. The Shishios’ expressions were tight, almost blatant with tension, well everyone’s but Miss Megumi’s.

It was perfectly understandable, Kenshin told herself.

They walked forward. One step after another.

There was the family, whose son Hiko had once pushed Kenshin to try to befriend, in hopes of teaching her to network among her new caste.

There was the family, whose daughter Kaoru had introduced her, hoping that she’d have some more friends…

Hell, there were even the Kamiya’s greatest rivals, the heir of Makimachi clan, the honorable lady Makimachi Misao and her companion, Lord Shinomori Aoshi. They too were here, watching her.

Kenshin forced her back straighter, trying to make sure that she didn’t slouch by mistake or stumble and fall and make a fool of herself in front of these great people.

Thankfully, the pathway was even, the sand swept until not even the oldest participant could stumble on it.

And there… there was Kaoru. Kenshin gasped in wonder, admiring her wife to be.

Miss Kaoru was waiting for her next to the altar, a most charming smile on her lips, hair brushed until it shone and tied at the nape of her neck with an indigo ribbon, wearing her best uniform… God, she took Kenshin breath away. No matter what Miss Kaoru wore, the uniforms and tall boots as befitting of her status, or the few times she had donned the most feminine lace gowns in the privacy of her rooms, Miss Kaoru had that effect on her, every single time.

Then they were there, and Kaoru bowed slightly and offered her hand–

Hiko nodded, giving his approval.

Kenshin smiled shyly and took Miss Kaoru’s hand, slipping her fingers between Kaoru’s and stepped to stand beside her at the altar.

The archbishop inclined his head respectfully and cracked the great old book in front of him open, addressing the crowd behind them with grand words. Frankly, his archaic speech was overstated and needlessly grand, but it served its purpose. And besides, there would have been a great many people who would have gotten apoplexy had Kenshin put her foot down and said what she thought about this particular part of the ceremony.

Miss Kaoru smiled at her, amusement glinting in her gaze. Most likely, she knew exactly what she was thinking.

Kenshin glanced aside, feeling a tinge of heat rising to her cheeks. Sometimes, it was like Miss Kaoru knew her too well. But then again, perhaps it was only a good thing. These days, there rarely were things left unsaid between them. No, more often than not, Miss Kaoru knew what was bothering her, or at least had good enough inkling about it and knew what to say to her.

The same, of course, worked in reverse.

While Kenshin had never been the best with words, this past year had been enough that nowadays she could see when Miss Kaoru was troubled, stressed or otherwise bothered. And more often than not, she could figure out a way to invite Miss Kaoru to discuss it or offer a suitable distraction.

“Do you, Prince Kamiya Kaoru swear to stay steadfast in your faith, and love Lady Seijuurou Kenshin in sickness and in health, come good or evil?

"I do,” Miss Kaoru said, her voice strong and sure.

“And do you, Lady Seijuurou Kenshin hereby swear to stay steadfast in your faith and swear loyalty to Prince Kamiya? Do you swear to love him from this day onward to forever more? Do you swear to give up all ties and bonds that would conflict with the wellbeing of the good people of kingdoms Yamato and Ezzo? And do you accept your role to support Prince Kaoru in his duties and loyalties and stand by his side as the Princess of the kingdom?”

Kenshin’s stomach lurched, shivers racing down her spine, the last vestiges of her fears and doubts raising their ugly heads. She drew a deep breath and met Miss Kaoru’s beautiful blue eyes, softened with sheer emotion of the moment.

Her heart swelled by the sight.

“I do,” Kenshin said, and realized that she meant it.

“Then, with the authority granted to me, I hereby declare you wed in the eyes of the law and the gods!” The Priest declared with a booming voice. Then he nodded and raised his hands in celebration. “Prince Kamiya, you may kiss the bride.”

Miss Kaoru turned to Kenshin, clasped her hands in her own and rose to her tiptoes to kiss her.

It was a simple touch, their lips pressing against each other like they had done hundreds of times during the past year, but this time, it felt electrifying – and it was over too soon.

Miss Kaoru’s eyes sparkled with good humor and she directed her to turn around. Together, side by side, they faced the crowd awaiting them.

Kaoru raised their hands, entwined. “Ladies and gentlemen, please meet my wife – Princess Kamiya Kenshin.”

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The end. :)

#Rurouni Kenshin #kenkao #Kenshin Himura #Kaoru Kamiya #Kenshin x Kaoru #Samurai X #ruroken #fic:Cinderella #Rahmakapala's fics

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