“Why do you think that is?” The dragon said, tilting his whiskered and maned head to the side.
The fox licked a paw thoughtfully. “I’m… not entirely sure. I will have to watch him some more. He’s very used to keeping his emotions hidden. Makes it harder to smell. Ahh, mortals and their endless desire to hide things from us.”
The dragon rumbled in amusement. “I highly doubt, my son, that young Shichiro is hiding his emotions for the sole purpose of making things difficult for you.”
The fox sniffed at that, but made no reply.
*****
Shichiro carefully and cautiously bided his time, waiting until the slow, peaceful hours of the afternoon before addressing his question.
“Hanako-hime?”
She immediately glanced up at him and smiled, her needle paused in the air, and Shichiro found himself unconsciously beaming back. “Yes, Honored Husband?” Hanako replied gently, looking back down to finish her stitch.
Shichiro paused and thought, picking and choosing his words like pieces from a shogi board. “I wonder… you said you were adopted, but how did that happen? And how did you end up in this pagoda?”
“Oh!” Hanako said, blinking rapidly, clearly blindsided. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story, and not particularly exciting, I think…”
Shichiro smiled his brightest, most persuasive smile. “Please, honored wife? We could make tea to drink while we talk.”
Hanako paused, eyed his bright, beaming smile, and then let a small smile of her own slip over her face before nodding. “If you wish to hear it, honored husband, then I would be pleased to tell it to you.”
Shichiro bowed his head in thanks and settled in to listen to her story. She coughed lightly to clear her throat, stared out the window, and hesitantly began her story.
“Some years ago now, on the day of the spring equinox, Mother told me she had a sudden desire to admire the blooming cherry trees, and stepped out to wander in the garden. As she walked, she heard a sudden cry, and searched diligently for it, finding it source at the foot of the oldest tree in the garden.” She blushed slightly and looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. “She found me there, and I was a tiny child, weak and sickly, which she discerned as soon as she picked me up. However, she had pity on me, and took me in as her own. She soon discovered that I was very, very ill, so ill that I would soon die.”
Shichiro blinked and stared at his wife. “I know that Princess Katsumi is very gifted in the healing arts, but it takes more than just great skill to heal an infant so ill. How—”
“She wanted very much to heal me, so she prayed hard and long—” Shichiro put all his efforts into not twitching, but the idea of Katsumi praying to anything but herself was, well, laughable.
“Finally, by the Grace of the Heavenly Emperor, she remembered a very rare patch of flowers that she grew and guarded carefully. They were called the Emperor’s Pearl flowers, and she plucked one bloom and brewed a tea from its petals, and fed me the tea. You see, the Emperor’s Pearl is rumored to have been a gift from the Heavenly Emperor himself to Miyatatsu Nagahara, the First Emperor of the Seven Realms, and if one drinks the tea brewed from its petals, their wounds or sicknesses will be healed. And… and the next morning, she checked on me, and found me perfectly whole and hale. Mother was very happy, but then rumors started to spread about her child, and Mother says I was nearly kidnapped once. She had nearly lost me once already, you see, so she panicked and sent me away to this tower, where I may grow up in peace and safety.” She smiled again, sweet and gentle, and smoothed a hand down her kimono (which was decorated with silver dragons and white roses).
“That’s where I got my name from, you know. Mother was so happy from my recovery, and so thankful to the mercies of the Heavenly Emperor, that she named me Hanako—flower child—in honor of the gift of the flower that saved my life, of the Heavenly Emperor who saw fit to spare me.” She finished, and by this time her cheeks were as red as the rising sun, and Shichiro would have laughed gently at her if his stomach wasn’t busy twisting itself in knots.
Shichiro wasn’t a fool, and there was something off about the story. Much of it seemed to be truthful, if perhaps convoluted and highly fantastical, but other bits didn’t add up, even if it seemed to be the truth.
Katsumi had named her adopted orphan daughter Hanako, in honor of the Heavenly Emperor and his mercies.
That did not sound like the cold-hearted, calculating Princess Katsumi he knew. So why would she give her daughter such a name?
Of course, there was always the option that Hanako was the only name she could come up with, but Katsumi was far too intelligent to make that any sort of believable.
The only reason he could come up with was if, perhaps… Princess Katsumi was highly superstitious. if Katsumi had believed that by honoring the Heavenly Emperor, she could stave off his wrath over some action she had taken, she would undoubtedly do it.
And if that was the case, whatever had Katsumi so nervous was obviously connected to Hanako, and as Hanako’s one and only husband, it was his duty to get to the bottom of this.
Inwardly resolved, he brought up a smile on the outside and reached over to snag one of her hands again, and his smile became real when he felt out she squeezed back. Alright, it was barely even a squeeze, but he knew Hanako, and he knew it for what it was. “That was an excellent story,” He smiled and said, “I must admit that I am glad it happened.”
“Why is that, Honored Husband?” Hanako asked in confusion, and he grinned back at her.
“Well, without that story, you most likely would not have named Hanako, and I think Hanako is the best name for you, and nothing else will do.”
She blushed again, but her eyes sparkled, pleased and happy. Shichiro grinned happily back at her, before slowly getting to his feet and ambling into their bedchamber. Well, that conversation had all but convinced him of his theory that Something Was Up, and now he guessed it was time to settle down into finding out what exactly was up.
It would be a long, difficult job, but as long as it kept Hanako safe, he’d gladly do it, and more.
The next day as they sat down to breakfast, Hanako’s husband spoke. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to be gone for a short period of time. I have several pressing previous engagements that I wasn’t able to complete due to my being summoned. Therefore, Honored Wife, I must beg your leave for several weeks.”
Hanako blinked at her husband in surprise, setting down her chopsticks before she dropped them in surprise. “L-leaving?”
Shichiro smiled at her, bright and nearly blinding, but something about this smile felt like a mask. Hanako suspected there was something he was hiding, but whatever it was, she could not fathom it.
“Yes, but only for a little while. I intend to return as soon as I may. I trust that you don’t need me so desperately that you can’t spare me a little time?” He asked brightly.
“Oh…” Hanako bit her lip and fidgeted with her sleeve. She desperately did not want to disappoint her husband, and if he had previously promised to do something, may the Heavenly Emperor forbid her standing in his way! And she had her handmaidens, it was not as if she would be left all alone in the pagoda… not that the handmaidens were exactly what Hanako guessed ‘pleasant company’ to be. Even so… “I… if it were up to me, Honored Husband, you would go with my blessing and whatever help I could give you, but… I doubt that you will be allowed out of the tower.”
Shichiro’s eyebrows lifted slowly, and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head and propped it on one hand, his mouth twisting into a thoughtful frown. “Well, that would certainly make things more difficult, wouldn’t it?”
Hanako felt her cheeks heat in shame, and she ducked her head, allowing her bangs to fall forward in front of her eyes. “I… I am sorry, Shichiro-san.”
“Mm.” He grunted, displeased, and then faster than Hanako could even blink, he had straightened up and smiled at her. “Still, difficult is not impossible
, and either way, there’s no need for you to apologize!” His fingers reached out towards her and tilted her chin up toward the light, and with a sudden thrill Hanako felt him stroke his thumb gently along the line of her lips. “Hey, now, princess, there’s no need to look so sad. I want you to smile!”
Hanako, stared at him, feeling her eyes widen in confusion. He tilted his head to one side, and while a smile still lingered on his lips, his eyes were uncommonly deep and serious.
Shichiro glanced over her face, watching the trembling depths of her eyes and the hot, shameful blush on her cheeks, and the almost blank set of her mouth. He shuddered, slightly, at that look, and decided if he could do something about it, he would never see it again, not on Hanako’s face.
Shichiro dropped his grip on her face, and reached for her hands instead, grasping them gently. Hanako’s exotic blue eyes darted down to gaze at her hands in his. He tugged on her hands, drawing her gaze back to his own, and began.
“I want…” His tongue went dry, and mentally he cursed at his weakness. He was a swordsman, a samurai, and was supposed to be above things like that. He paused and swallowed, and went on, “I want you to promise me something, love.”
Hanako’s eyes widened at the endearment, and her flush faded into a pretty pink color, which Shichiro infinitely preferred to the scalded shade she had been sporting a moment earlier. “Y-yes?”
“I want you to promise me that you’ll always smile, Hanako-hime. No matter what. Do you promise me?”
She bit her lip and searched his face, for what, Shichiro wasn’t entirely sure. After a long, long moment, she nodded, and a trembling smile slowly spread its way across her mouth, and Shichiro felt a smile of his own sneak across his face in response. “Excellent! I’ll hold you to that, you know. Now, with that out of the way, why don’t we begin to plan how I’m going to sneak out of here without alerting the stone statues your mother calls handmaidens.”
For a moment, Hanako stared at him in shock, before his wife suddenly tugged her hands out of his grip and flew to cover the lower half of her face with her sleeves. But before she could completely stifle the sound, Shichiro caught the beginnings of a giggle, and grinned. Success.
They spent hours plotting, but by the end of it, Shichiro was quite well-satisfied. There was, of course, the chance of it backfiring, as all plans might, but that had never stopped Shichiro from enacting a plan before!
(He tried to ignore the voice in in his mind—which sounded suspiciously like Ichiro—pointing out that might be the reason Shichiro ended up in so many difficult or half-insane situations)
He grinned and stood up, solicitously holding out a hand to assist his wife to her feet. “Thank you, Hanako-hime, for all your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Hanako looked at him for a moment, before she did as he asked and smiled gently. “I am very glad I could be of assistance…” She paused for a moment, before smiling brighter and adding, “Dearest husband.”
Shichiro’s heart surged with warmth and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and he was quite pleased when he felt small, slender fingers nimbly slip into his hand of their own accord.
That night, however, all his contentment left him, as he lay on the futon and stared up into the darkness of the ceiling.
Shichiro, child, I… I want you to… promise me something. You must give… me your most solemn vow.
His eyes were wide and dry from staring into the dark without blinking, and he rubbed at them restlessly.
Yes, Mother. What? What is it? I’ll do anything!
The lone cry of a nightingale sang from the forest outside, but it failed to lull Shichiro back to sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut, tired of staring at darkness.
I want you to p-promise that… that you’ll always smile, no matter wh-what… may happen. If you do, then when I look down on you I’ll be able to see and know that you are happy, and I… will be … at peace. Do… you promise me?
He rolled to one side and breathed, in and out, deep and even, but sleep eluded him until the golden tinge of the rising sun gleamed beyond his eyelids.
I promise.
*****
Late that night, they put the Plan into action. They took one of Shichiro’s sleeping yukatas and stuffed it with a blanket the placed it on a spare futon in the room Shichiro had stayed in previously. The plan was to say that Shichiro had fallen horribly sick, and that Hanako had placed him in seclusion while she tended to him. Hanako had been trained in the arts of healing and herblore by her mother, so it would make sense that she would heal him, and it would hopefully keep the handmaidens from poking around where they had no business looking.
Meanwhile, Shichiro would be wandering the roads of Akiyama in search of answers.
Hanako stared unhappily at the small pack she had prepared for her husband, and weighed it carefully in her hands. “I wish I could send you off with something to eat.” She murmured.
Shichiro liberated the pack form her hands before she could brood anymore, and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been wandering this long, after all, and I’ve never had to rely on boxed lunches.” Hanako’s shoulders twitched unhappily, so he smiled at her, hoping it would calm her. “Relax, Hanako-hime. I know how to take care of myself, and I swear I won’t starve.”
“…Very well.” She conceded at last, but her mouth was twisted unhappily. Seeing that, Shichiro reached forward and gently tapped the corner of her mouth with one finger.
“Hey, now, honored wife, did you forget your promise already? Smile! Everything’s going to be fine.”
At that, Hanako’s shoulders relaxed, and she sent him a smile. It was small and pale, but still there, and Shichiro grinned brightly at his victory. “See, now was that so hard?”
She shook her head, and together the walked to the engawa. The moon shone down brightly on the slick tile, and Hanako looked out beyond into the dimness of the moonlit mountain below. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to climb down with him, to feel the grass beneath her feet and the fall of leaves upon her face… so she stepped back and turned to face her husband.
“You will be all right?” She asked quietly.
He nodded solemnly, and reached out to grasp her hand. “Yes.”
“Good.” She breathed, swallowed, and spoke a little louder. “Be careful, stay safe, and return to me as soon as soon as you can. I wish many Heavenly Blessings upon your journeys.” She finished with a smooth, deep bow, and straightened up only to find her husband staring at her strangely.
“W-what is it?” she asked, suddenly stuttering in her nervous surprise.
Shichiro started and shook his head, trying to shake his errant, rambling thoughts out of her his head. “Ah, it’s nothing! Just that… it has been a long, long time since I had someone waiting for me at the end of a journey.” He smiled at her, small and solemn. “It is… a very nice feeling. Or so I think.”
At that, Hanako’s smile brightened, and she squeezed his hand happily. “I am glad, and I promise to wait patiently until you return to me.”
“And that,” he responded with a smile of his own. “Is far more than I could ever ask for.”
He reached into his pack, withdrew the handy rope Hanako had given him a long time ago, and looped it carefully over a spur of the roof.
“Goodbye then, Hanako-hime, and promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, as well?” He said. Hanako nodded shyly, and he grinned. “Excellent! Don’t want you catching a cold from your patient, now do we?”
And with that, he dropped over the side, the black silk rope following gracefully a minute later.
Hanako sighed, feeling suddenly lonely as soon as the faint noise of his departure faded away.
Quietly, she made her way back inside and to bed, attempting (and failing) to ignore the newfound loneliness and cold of her empty futon. She needed her sleep, for Hanako had a feeling that tomorrow would be a day when she would need to be as awake and alert as she cou
ld.
*****
Normally, Shichiro would have traveled through Akiyama by foot, as he always did. However, it tended to be rather slow, because of the mountains that gave the realm its name. So Shichiro had to figure out some other way (and wasn’t it a strange thing that he was worried about the time a journey would take? Normally he wandered wherever the wind desired, but now he had a duty, and an important one. Masaki, Nagisa, Manami, Isao, Daisuke, Hanako…
Hanako, who was waiting for him at home.
He was going to get this job done, and he would get it done fast, and he would return to her.
So with that thought, he took the only mode of travel that worked best and was practical—travel by boat. Akiyama’s omnipresent mountains were split and sectioned by rivers, and there was one not far from where Hanako was being kept. There was of course some waterfalls and rapids, as could be expected in a mountainous region, but the rivers were generally safe and easy to traverse, as long as one knew what to look for.
Shichiro had hired the first boat he could find at a reasonable price (despite being married to a princess and being the seventh son of a Shogun, he was rather strapped for funds at the moment), and who seemed to have a reliable owner. He was the sturdy, quiet type, and was intelligent enough to answer no questions or ask them in return, whether or not there was a small sack of gold hovering temptingly in front of him.
They were traveling upstream, which made it take longer, but they had only had to portage twice (an experience that Shichiro thoroughly detested and vowed never to participate in again if he could help it, especially since his perpetual bad luck had decided to kick in again with a vengeance.
It was a good thing that there was no one he knew around, for his entire backside of his gi and hakama were coated in thick, dark mud. If Isao was here, Shichiro’s humiliation would know no bounds (or no end, if Isao’s freakishly strong memory had anything to do with it).
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