At the first sign of sunrise, Sachiko left the room she shared with her brother, making her way as quietly as she could through the shrine grounds. It was comforting, being in this place, and one that felt familiar, like the warmth and glow her home used to have. She missed it, in truth. She missed her family, the little friends she had, and as odd as it might seem, she missed him. She missed the person her brother used to be, and she missed the dragon responsible for his change in demeanor. She would never tell her brother that, though. He would fly into a rage that not even she wanted to be the victim of. But was that so wrong of her? To miss something that once was? Perhaps, in some ways it was. She missed her people's murderer, her brother's murderer.
He had been her friend once too. She shook the thoughts from her as she descended the stairs that lead to the shrine, finding the cold comfort of rock against her bare feet soothing. She was never one for shoes, after all, and enjoyed feeling the earth on her feet as much as she enjoyed the air passing through her wings. The days of flight were long gone, but that did not mean she had to give up her other source of enjoyment. She paused, after walking a good distance from the shrine, and stared up at a rather large tree. A small smile crossed her lips as she pressed her hand against the trunk, closing her eyes momentarily just to feel it. She reopened her eyes and made an effortless jump to the nearest limb.
She proceeded to climb it until she was at the very top, standing at the tip and watching as the sun rose over the horizon. The sky began to illuminate in shades of pink and violet, the subtle hints of blue crossing through to the surface. She smiled and closed her eyes to it, enjoying the feeling of the sun as it washed over her. It did not provide the sense of vitality as it did for Kenji, but it did provide a sense of comfort. The sun was always an object of comfort to her kind, and perhaps it would remain to be so. She could feel the morning breeze pass through her, combing her crimson locks as she opened her eyes to take in the morning. "I miss the morning sun," what she meant by that, was not entirely something one could guess correctly.
Yukio had been up since just slightly before dawn proper, and had taken the opportunity to bathe before the baths were occupied by too many people. Having accomplished that goal, he now mostly wandered the shrine grounds absently, wondering if perhaps he should go see her after all. She of all people would be able to forgive his implicit deceptionâhis allowing her to believe that he was really dead. And surely she of all people would keep the secret that he in fact still lived. Yet⊠he found the idea of simply approaching her to be intimidating somehow, which was ridiculous because she was, without doubt, the kindest person he had ever met. Perhaps in some strange way, it was that which stayed him in place, moving about the grounds, helping under the guise of a human being but always staying well out of her perception. Heâd grown quite good at that sort of thing in recent years, though not so long ago, heâd been the opposite.
To be perceived as weak was already a weakness, and so there was hardly much point in concealing his strength. He wasnât that person anymore, though, at least not when he could avoid it. So for now he would wait, perhaps give things some time to settle. She didnât need a lot of shocks in such quick succession, after all. Muttering something incoherent to himself, he chose the base of a random tree and sat. He didnât bother to extend his senses very much here, because at times, Amayaâs power was overwhelming even to him, mostly because the nature of it was so different. It didnât hurt, by any means, but it was easy to lose oneself in her essence so near the center of her power. Also⊠sheâd warned him that Shiroâs spirit might react to his if he didnât keep himself in check. They were the same species, so he supposed it made sense in a way.
Crossing his legs lazily, he lit his pipe with a gesture and leaned his back against the rough, his wet hair dripping over one of his shoulders, darkening the front of his red haori. It wasnât like he much cared, anyway. Drawing deeply from the pipe, he exhaled just as someone else spoke, and he realized belatedly that there was another scent intermingling with the thick smell of sakura blossoms here. âThatâs a bit of a strange thing to say, isnât it?â he inquired conversationally. His tone was on the deadpan side of expressive, but it wasnât entirely flat. âItâs just as close as it was yesterday, no?â
"Perhaps it might sound strange to one who is not accustomed to being one with the sun," Sachiko replied simply, rolling her eyes slightly before making herself comfortable on the limb. She laid one hand against her knee, dangling her legs from the branch as she kept her eyes on the sun. "And no, it is not quite the same as it was yesterday," she added, glancing down to spot Yukio beneath the tree she was currently inhabiting. "It may appear to be so to you, but to me, it is growing further and further away. There will be a day when I can no longer reach out to it as I do now," she spoke, allowing her eyes to linger a bit longer on the dragon below. Kenji didn't like him simply because of the fact that he was a dragon, a fact he had spoken to her of when they had left.
It didn't bother her. He wasn't the one responsible for the massacre of her race, but that did not mean she had to like him quickly either. She shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant fashion before returning her gaze to the sun. "Have you never wondered what it would be like to touch the sun? To just bathe in it's strength?" she questioned, and realized that perhaps that too sounded a bit strange to the man. Shaking her head, she sighed softly and allowed herself to fall from the tree, landing a few feet away from him and his pipe. She pursed her lips together at the smell. She never really did like the smell of smoke, but she had a choice to be there or not. Instead, she simply chose to sit down in front of him, crossing her legs beneath her as if waiting for his answers.
Yukio appeared unfazed by her counterpoint, and indeed simply shrugged. He might not have even said anything further, except she dropped down in front of him and appeared to be waiting for him to say something. With a slight snort, he tipped out the bowl of his pipe onto his hand, an action which would have surely burned an ordinary person. His skin, however, remained unmarred, even when he crushed the embers in his hands, then turned to the side and blew the ash away into the wind. It wouldnât pollute the ground, that way, but settle naturally and sink into the soil, where it would help new things grow. It was on a much smaller scale the same general principle as that of a volcanoâthe remains of what was nurtured what was to be.
âOne with the sun? Thatâs a lofty sentiment.â He felt some affinity to it as well, of course, being what he was, but it never seemed to be anything so spiritual in his mind. That was really more of Amayaâs thing than his, anyway. He opened one side of his haori, exposing part of an elaborate tattoo pattern of fire lilies, and tucked his pipe into an inside pocket before setting the garment back to rights. After that, he rubbed absently at the side of his jaw and glanced up at the great flaming orb in question. âBut I have to say I donât see the problem. If you want to hold it so badly, just reach further. Donât lament that itâs leaving, go after it and keep it close. Otherwise, youâve nobody to blame but yourself when itâs gone.â He raised a brow slightly in her direction, but then just shrugged.
That was the way heâd learned to do things after all. If he wanted something, he pursued it until it was his, and then kept it for as long as it took him to grow weary of it. If he was not initially capable of achieving or obtaining something, he worked harder until he was. People who thought they couldnât do that either lacked the ability or the drive to go after what they really desired. If they lacked the ability, well, he could understand, and that was unfortunate for them. But those who lacked only the drive had no right to complain. âAs for âbathingâ in it, no. I canât say Iâve ever had the desire to do that. Why would I want to borrow power from something else? If itâs not something I can achieve on my own, then Iâve no right to it and no interest in it.â He wasnât particularly critical of what sheâd said, just of a very different mind, it seemed.
Sachiko raised a brow in his direction. That... was an interesting way of putting it. She turned her attention back towards the sun, her face falling back into a neutral stare as she continued gazing at it. "I never said anything about borrowing it's power, just bathing in it is all. And perhaps you are right, that it is no one's fault but my own for not going after it," she replied. As much as she wanted to go after it, she could not risk any more exposure. She'd said too much to Rennoshin, and Amaya already knew what they were, of that she was certain. Maybe, once Masahiro was dead, she'd be able to spread her wings once more and chase after the sun as she once did as a child.
"Unfortunately, it's a bit hard to fly on clipped wings. Once they grow back, however, might be another story. We are all not so strong a creature as yourself, you know. To each his own thoughts," she spoke, rolling her shoulders in the process. She could feel her hand twitching slightly as she stared at the dragon before her, the scar along his nose causing her eye to twitch slightly. Really, this odd fascination with touching things was beyond even herself now, but she supposed it had a lot to do with just feeling something. Of feeling alive still. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she leaned forward, her lips pursing together as her brows furrowed.
Without so much a warning, her index finger touched the side of his scar slightly and traced it before pulling back, nodding in a satisfied manner. "Now that that's out of the way," she spoke, placing her hand on her knee and placing her jaw in the cup of her hand. "What brings you here to this small village? You did not seem so concerned with it that night," she spoke, raising a questioning brow in the process.
If the metaphor wasnât hint enough, everything made much more sense when she touched him. He wasnât nearly as sensitive to these things as the phoenixes themselves, but heâd have been a blind idiot if he couldnât sense the flame within her spirit. He didn't flinch away from the contactâit wasnât like he was afraid she was going to hurt him, and he could say without arrogance that women touched him fairly often. Though not usually in this fashion. Still, all he did was blink. At least now she had it out of her system, he supposed. âI understand now,â he muttered, more to himself than to her. Still, it wasnât like he cared much. What she did, what she was⊠none of it was any of his business.
Snorting softly, he folded both arms into his sleeves, cocking his head slightly to the side. The motion exposed his second eye, which happened to be a match for the other, sharing the same ruby coloration. âThe village is one thing. Itâs not really my business what happens to itâbut there is someone here I care about. I just wanted to be sure the Little Bird was all right. Thatâs all.â It wasnât difficult to guess who he referred to, and he didnât intend for it to be that obscure anyway. âSheâs just the kind of person who would make what happens to the town her business, and so by extension, it became mine for a little while.â
Sachiko snorted, not bothering to hide the fact that it wasn't exactly lady-like of her, however; what he said was a little amusing. "So it is true that a dragon can care for something other than itself," she stated, a grin spreading over her lips as she scoffed. "But I suppose it is understanding to think that way. Ama-chan tends to affect everyone differently, from what I can see. Though...," she paused slightly, shaking her head. She pursed her lips together as she pulled back from her leaning position. She did feel a little bad for Amaya, having to remain here and not having a real choice in the matter. Being born as she was, it was as if it were pre-ordained that her life would not be hers, and something inside of Sachiko felt like it had broke in twain. She sighed softly.
"I do not believe it is fair of them to cage her as they have. Perhaps, it is none of my business, and perhaps it is not her fault being born as she was, but she should have been allowed to fly... at least once. Every bird desires that, not a cage," even though the cage wasn't entirely a metaphor. The shrine itself was a cage, housing Amaya in it and giving her false hopes of seeing the world, but never truly being able to see it. "Her duties, I understand, are important to the world, but she shouldn't have to be hidden from it," she stated, her voice growing a bit deeper. She was never one to be angry, however; this caused her to feel just a little angry. It wasn't fair to Amaya, just because she was born a White Tengu did not mean she had to have something enforced upon her.
"She is a good person, though, and fully capable of making her own decisions. I will say nothing more for her on that," because it wasn't really her place to do so. Instead, Sachiko sighed, throwing her head back to glance at the sky as it continued to rise higher into the sky. The others would still be asleep still, and very little of them would barely be awakening to prepare the morning meals. She snorted softly as she recalled Kenji had become angry with a few of the monks for taking them breakfast. She didn't blame them, really, since Kenji was just that type of person. He might not appear to care, but he cared more than he let on.
"Couldn't say the same for you though," she stated, rubbing at her throat absentmindedly. He didn't hurt her nor crush anything that night, but the feeling of his foot never really left her throat. It felt odd sometimes, but she passed it off as just the fact that she lost to him. Sometimes, she really did not like losing.
His response to that was to laugh. Not at great volume, more a dark chuckle than anything. âAnd you caught me in one of my better moments, at that. On a different day, I might have insisted the fight be lethal.â He certainly didnât claim to be a good person, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he wasnât really all that concerned about good, or evil, or whatever names other people gave those things. Dragons tended to frame actions in terms of strength and weakness. What was strong was good, and what was weak was bad. That was about the long and short of it. He wasnât quite so simplistic in his views anymore⊠or perhaps heâd just come to understand that there was more than one kind of strength.
âFor once, Iâm glad I didnât though,â he mused thoughtfully, turning his eyes from the sky to the woman in front of him. âNot even Iâm such a bastard that Iâd want to kill the last of the phoenixes, after all.â He shrugged. The massacre had happened long before he reached maturity, and besides that, it had occurred outside the authority of the previous Dragon Prince. Most of those responsible had been executed for itânot for killing the phoenixes as such, but for doing such a thing without permission. Some still lived, though, because not all of the conspirators were known to the central government.
âI imagine thatâs not something you want anyone else to know though, so youâre going to have to give me something to call you that isnât âphoenix girl.ââ It wasnât like theyâd bothered with introductions as such when theyâd met, all things considered.
"If you had desired the fight to be lethal, I would not have fought you. Kenji, on the other hand, would have done so regardless. I do not kill, Mr. Dragon. I have not killed anyone, in the entirety of my existence," which as true. She had never intentionally killed someone. Seen someone slain, yes, but never been the one to do the slaying. All of the bounties her brother and she found were either slain already, or Kenji did it. "Since you know what we are, then you should not be afraid of killing us, unless you intended to use your flames. If you did, then perhaps I shall agree with you on that," she continued, scoffing slightly in the process. Phoenixes were not so easily killed, and even if they were, they would just rebirth themselves. The only way a phoenix could perish forever, was through the flames of another, stronger creature such as the dragons.
"Phoenix girl?" she echoed, a hint of amusement lacing her voice. "No, I suppose that wouldn't really do. You could have just said Tori, I'd be okay with that," she stated, shrugging her shoulders in a care-free manner. Truthfully, he could call her phoenix girl for all she cared. Hiding wasn't something she liked doing, and she hated constantly hiding because of him. She pushed the thoughts from her mind, studying the dragon before her as her eyes narrowed. She sighed softly, though and leaned back on the palms of her hands.
"To be honest, I do not care if others know what I am. It is not a life I wish to live, however; it is because my brother believes it will keep us alive long enough until he can be found," she spoke, her eyes faltering. She raised them back up to meet the dragon's, and pursed her lips together. "Sachiko, if you must call me something," she finally stated, giving the dragon her name in response. "The other one is Kenji, or Ken to some. I just call him Ji-Ji," she stated in a nonchalant fashion. It wasn't like anyone would call him that other than her, though. She'd be surprised if someone did. Probably a little amused as well.
âSachiko,â he repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue. It seemed a little⊠girlish, for someone like her, but then it wasnât like he really had much of an opinion on the matter. Shrugging slightly, he figured he could at least return the courtesy. Though heâd gone by âYukioâ in a large number of villages to this point, it was not his actual name. âCall me Yuu. Mr. Dragon is my father.â He cracked a grin at that, actually. His name probably wouldnât have been all that recognizable even if heâd given her the full one, but he was a little too careful to provide his real surname. The given one, though, wasnât likely to ring any bells, as such, so he sometimes used it as well.
As to who the mysterious he was, Yuu could only assume that she referred to the instigator of the phoenix massacre, considering. He didnât know the identity of that person, else heâd have had him executed himself, in accordance with the judgement of the previous Dragon-Prince. Likely, though, he was still in court somewhere, fighting viciously for position like the rest of them. Well, whatever the case, it wasnât his business.
âIf you want to find a dragon,â he offered offhandedly, âmost of them will be gathering in the capital in a few months. Theyâll be holding a tournamentâanyone who still considers themselves part of the hierarchy will be there. Hard to get into, but if you can⊠youâll probably be able to find him.â
Sachiko laughed, the sound coming out nothing as she appeared to be. It wasn't obnoxious, nor boisterous, but it was neither soft or melodic. It was simply there. She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she raised an amused brow. "And here I just thought you were a happy man, not someone who appeared to be tender. You don't look like a very tender person. Chewy, perhaps, but not tender," she chided, though the meaning of his name Yuu could have meant something else entirely, she did not care. She furrowed her brows at his last statement though, and sat back in a proper posture. A tournament, for dragons? She did not care what happened to Masahiro, but her brother would want to know of this. It was still a few months away, however; they couldn't just leave either.
"I do not wish to see my brother head to something so drastic as that. Perhaps, once Hidenori has been dealt with, I will mention the tournament to him. For now, however, I ask you this," she stated, staring Yuu straight in the eye and holding his gaze. "Do not mention it to him. He will get himself killed trying to find him. You understand that I cannot allow my brother to die quite yet, but I do not desire anything to befall Ama-chan, either. Kenji may be strong, but he is not strong enough that he could kill a dragon. Ama-chan... this place needs us more than Kenji's revenge," she asked, lowering her gaze slightly. She, perhaps, was asking a lot, but she cared too much for her brother to throw his life away so carelessly. And she cared enough to want to keep this place safe from the Bakeneko.
Kenji was strong, perhaps, but Masahiro was stronger. One day, Kenji might be strong enough that he could succeed in his revenge, however; as was his duty to find Masahiro, Sachiko considered it her duty to keep her brother alive for as long as possible. For now, she just wanted life to continue to flourish. She was, after all, a creature who loved life.
âYou think any dragon would name her son anything about tenderness?â Yuu retorted lazily, raising a brow. Nevertheless, he snorted, slightly amused by her amusement, perhaps. It faded shortly enough, however, and he shook his head slightly. âI donât plan to tell himâit has nothing to do with me, after all. Do as you like.â She didnât have to worry about Amaya so much, though. As long as he was around, nothing bad would happen to the Little Bird. He would make damn sure of that much.
He had been her friend once too. She shook the thoughts from her as she descended the stairs that lead to the shrine, finding the cold comfort of rock against her bare feet soothing. She was never one for shoes, after all, and enjoyed feeling the earth on her feet as much as she enjoyed the air passing through her wings. The days of flight were long gone, but that did not mean she had to give up her other source of enjoyment. She paused, after walking a good distance from the shrine, and stared up at a rather large tree. A small smile crossed her lips as she pressed her hand against the trunk, closing her eyes momentarily just to feel it. She reopened her eyes and made an effortless jump to the nearest limb.
She proceeded to climb it until she was at the very top, standing at the tip and watching as the sun rose over the horizon. The sky began to illuminate in shades of pink and violet, the subtle hints of blue crossing through to the surface. She smiled and closed her eyes to it, enjoying the feeling of the sun as it washed over her. It did not provide the sense of vitality as it did for Kenji, but it did provide a sense of comfort. The sun was always an object of comfort to her kind, and perhaps it would remain to be so. She could feel the morning breeze pass through her, combing her crimson locks as she opened her eyes to take in the morning. "I miss the morning sun," what she meant by that, was not entirely something one could guess correctly.
Yukio had been up since just slightly before dawn proper, and had taken the opportunity to bathe before the baths were occupied by too many people. Having accomplished that goal, he now mostly wandered the shrine grounds absently, wondering if perhaps he should go see her after all. She of all people would be able to forgive his implicit deceptionâhis allowing her to believe that he was really dead. And surely she of all people would keep the secret that he in fact still lived. Yet⊠he found the idea of simply approaching her to be intimidating somehow, which was ridiculous because she was, without doubt, the kindest person he had ever met. Perhaps in some strange way, it was that which stayed him in place, moving about the grounds, helping under the guise of a human being but always staying well out of her perception. Heâd grown quite good at that sort of thing in recent years, though not so long ago, heâd been the opposite.
To be perceived as weak was already a weakness, and so there was hardly much point in concealing his strength. He wasnât that person anymore, though, at least not when he could avoid it. So for now he would wait, perhaps give things some time to settle. She didnât need a lot of shocks in such quick succession, after all. Muttering something incoherent to himself, he chose the base of a random tree and sat. He didnât bother to extend his senses very much here, because at times, Amayaâs power was overwhelming even to him, mostly because the nature of it was so different. It didnât hurt, by any means, but it was easy to lose oneself in her essence so near the center of her power. Also⊠sheâd warned him that Shiroâs spirit might react to his if he didnât keep himself in check. They were the same species, so he supposed it made sense in a way.
Crossing his legs lazily, he lit his pipe with a gesture and leaned his back against the rough, his wet hair dripping over one of his shoulders, darkening the front of his red haori. It wasnât like he much cared, anyway. Drawing deeply from the pipe, he exhaled just as someone else spoke, and he realized belatedly that there was another scent intermingling with the thick smell of sakura blossoms here. âThatâs a bit of a strange thing to say, isnât it?â he inquired conversationally. His tone was on the deadpan side of expressive, but it wasnât entirely flat. âItâs just as close as it was yesterday, no?â
"Perhaps it might sound strange to one who is not accustomed to being one with the sun," Sachiko replied simply, rolling her eyes slightly before making herself comfortable on the limb. She laid one hand against her knee, dangling her legs from the branch as she kept her eyes on the sun. "And no, it is not quite the same as it was yesterday," she added, glancing down to spot Yukio beneath the tree she was currently inhabiting. "It may appear to be so to you, but to me, it is growing further and further away. There will be a day when I can no longer reach out to it as I do now," she spoke, allowing her eyes to linger a bit longer on the dragon below. Kenji didn't like him simply because of the fact that he was a dragon, a fact he had spoken to her of when they had left.
It didn't bother her. He wasn't the one responsible for the massacre of her race, but that did not mean she had to like him quickly either. She shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant fashion before returning her gaze to the sun. "Have you never wondered what it would be like to touch the sun? To just bathe in it's strength?" she questioned, and realized that perhaps that too sounded a bit strange to the man. Shaking her head, she sighed softly and allowed herself to fall from the tree, landing a few feet away from him and his pipe. She pursed her lips together at the smell. She never really did like the smell of smoke, but she had a choice to be there or not. Instead, she simply chose to sit down in front of him, crossing her legs beneath her as if waiting for his answers.
Yukio appeared unfazed by her counterpoint, and indeed simply shrugged. He might not have even said anything further, except she dropped down in front of him and appeared to be waiting for him to say something. With a slight snort, he tipped out the bowl of his pipe onto his hand, an action which would have surely burned an ordinary person. His skin, however, remained unmarred, even when he crushed the embers in his hands, then turned to the side and blew the ash away into the wind. It wouldnât pollute the ground, that way, but settle naturally and sink into the soil, where it would help new things grow. It was on a much smaller scale the same general principle as that of a volcanoâthe remains of what was nurtured what was to be.
âOne with the sun? Thatâs a lofty sentiment.â He felt some affinity to it as well, of course, being what he was, but it never seemed to be anything so spiritual in his mind. That was really more of Amayaâs thing than his, anyway. He opened one side of his haori, exposing part of an elaborate tattoo pattern of fire lilies, and tucked his pipe into an inside pocket before setting the garment back to rights. After that, he rubbed absently at the side of his jaw and glanced up at the great flaming orb in question. âBut I have to say I donât see the problem. If you want to hold it so badly, just reach further. Donât lament that itâs leaving, go after it and keep it close. Otherwise, youâve nobody to blame but yourself when itâs gone.â He raised a brow slightly in her direction, but then just shrugged.
That was the way heâd learned to do things after all. If he wanted something, he pursued it until it was his, and then kept it for as long as it took him to grow weary of it. If he was not initially capable of achieving or obtaining something, he worked harder until he was. People who thought they couldnât do that either lacked the ability or the drive to go after what they really desired. If they lacked the ability, well, he could understand, and that was unfortunate for them. But those who lacked only the drive had no right to complain. âAs for âbathingâ in it, no. I canât say Iâve ever had the desire to do that. Why would I want to borrow power from something else? If itâs not something I can achieve on my own, then Iâve no right to it and no interest in it.â He wasnât particularly critical of what sheâd said, just of a very different mind, it seemed.
Sachiko raised a brow in his direction. That... was an interesting way of putting it. She turned her attention back towards the sun, her face falling back into a neutral stare as she continued gazing at it. "I never said anything about borrowing it's power, just bathing in it is all. And perhaps you are right, that it is no one's fault but my own for not going after it," she replied. As much as she wanted to go after it, she could not risk any more exposure. She'd said too much to Rennoshin, and Amaya already knew what they were, of that she was certain. Maybe, once Masahiro was dead, she'd be able to spread her wings once more and chase after the sun as she once did as a child.
"Unfortunately, it's a bit hard to fly on clipped wings. Once they grow back, however, might be another story. We are all not so strong a creature as yourself, you know. To each his own thoughts," she spoke, rolling her shoulders in the process. She could feel her hand twitching slightly as she stared at the dragon before her, the scar along his nose causing her eye to twitch slightly. Really, this odd fascination with touching things was beyond even herself now, but she supposed it had a lot to do with just feeling something. Of feeling alive still. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she leaned forward, her lips pursing together as her brows furrowed.
Without so much a warning, her index finger touched the side of his scar slightly and traced it before pulling back, nodding in a satisfied manner. "Now that that's out of the way," she spoke, placing her hand on her knee and placing her jaw in the cup of her hand. "What brings you here to this small village? You did not seem so concerned with it that night," she spoke, raising a questioning brow in the process.
If the metaphor wasnât hint enough, everything made much more sense when she touched him. He wasnât nearly as sensitive to these things as the phoenixes themselves, but heâd have been a blind idiot if he couldnât sense the flame within her spirit. He didn't flinch away from the contactâit wasnât like he was afraid she was going to hurt him, and he could say without arrogance that women touched him fairly often. Though not usually in this fashion. Still, all he did was blink. At least now she had it out of her system, he supposed. âI understand now,â he muttered, more to himself than to her. Still, it wasnât like he cared much. What she did, what she was⊠none of it was any of his business.
Snorting softly, he folded both arms into his sleeves, cocking his head slightly to the side. The motion exposed his second eye, which happened to be a match for the other, sharing the same ruby coloration. âThe village is one thing. Itâs not really my business what happens to itâbut there is someone here I care about. I just wanted to be sure the Little Bird was all right. Thatâs all.â It wasnât difficult to guess who he referred to, and he didnât intend for it to be that obscure anyway. âSheâs just the kind of person who would make what happens to the town her business, and so by extension, it became mine for a little while.â
Sachiko snorted, not bothering to hide the fact that it wasn't exactly lady-like of her, however; what he said was a little amusing. "So it is true that a dragon can care for something other than itself," she stated, a grin spreading over her lips as she scoffed. "But I suppose it is understanding to think that way. Ama-chan tends to affect everyone differently, from what I can see. Though...," she paused slightly, shaking her head. She pursed her lips together as she pulled back from her leaning position. She did feel a little bad for Amaya, having to remain here and not having a real choice in the matter. Being born as she was, it was as if it were pre-ordained that her life would not be hers, and something inside of Sachiko felt like it had broke in twain. She sighed softly.
"I do not believe it is fair of them to cage her as they have. Perhaps, it is none of my business, and perhaps it is not her fault being born as she was, but she should have been allowed to fly... at least once. Every bird desires that, not a cage," even though the cage wasn't entirely a metaphor. The shrine itself was a cage, housing Amaya in it and giving her false hopes of seeing the world, but never truly being able to see it. "Her duties, I understand, are important to the world, but she shouldn't have to be hidden from it," she stated, her voice growing a bit deeper. She was never one to be angry, however; this caused her to feel just a little angry. It wasn't fair to Amaya, just because she was born a White Tengu did not mean she had to have something enforced upon her.
"She is a good person, though, and fully capable of making her own decisions. I will say nothing more for her on that," because it wasn't really her place to do so. Instead, Sachiko sighed, throwing her head back to glance at the sky as it continued to rise higher into the sky. The others would still be asleep still, and very little of them would barely be awakening to prepare the morning meals. She snorted softly as she recalled Kenji had become angry with a few of the monks for taking them breakfast. She didn't blame them, really, since Kenji was just that type of person. He might not appear to care, but he cared more than he let on.
"Couldn't say the same for you though," she stated, rubbing at her throat absentmindedly. He didn't hurt her nor crush anything that night, but the feeling of his foot never really left her throat. It felt odd sometimes, but she passed it off as just the fact that she lost to him. Sometimes, she really did not like losing.
His response to that was to laugh. Not at great volume, more a dark chuckle than anything. âAnd you caught me in one of my better moments, at that. On a different day, I might have insisted the fight be lethal.â He certainly didnât claim to be a good person, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he wasnât really all that concerned about good, or evil, or whatever names other people gave those things. Dragons tended to frame actions in terms of strength and weakness. What was strong was good, and what was weak was bad. That was about the long and short of it. He wasnât quite so simplistic in his views anymore⊠or perhaps heâd just come to understand that there was more than one kind of strength.
âFor once, Iâm glad I didnât though,â he mused thoughtfully, turning his eyes from the sky to the woman in front of him. âNot even Iâm such a bastard that Iâd want to kill the last of the phoenixes, after all.â He shrugged. The massacre had happened long before he reached maturity, and besides that, it had occurred outside the authority of the previous Dragon Prince. Most of those responsible had been executed for itânot for killing the phoenixes as such, but for doing such a thing without permission. Some still lived, though, because not all of the conspirators were known to the central government.
âI imagine thatâs not something you want anyone else to know though, so youâre going to have to give me something to call you that isnât âphoenix girl.ââ It wasnât like theyâd bothered with introductions as such when theyâd met, all things considered.
"If you had desired the fight to be lethal, I would not have fought you. Kenji, on the other hand, would have done so regardless. I do not kill, Mr. Dragon. I have not killed anyone, in the entirety of my existence," which as true. She had never intentionally killed someone. Seen someone slain, yes, but never been the one to do the slaying. All of the bounties her brother and she found were either slain already, or Kenji did it. "Since you know what we are, then you should not be afraid of killing us, unless you intended to use your flames. If you did, then perhaps I shall agree with you on that," she continued, scoffing slightly in the process. Phoenixes were not so easily killed, and even if they were, they would just rebirth themselves. The only way a phoenix could perish forever, was through the flames of another, stronger creature such as the dragons.
"Phoenix girl?" she echoed, a hint of amusement lacing her voice. "No, I suppose that wouldn't really do. You could have just said Tori, I'd be okay with that," she stated, shrugging her shoulders in a care-free manner. Truthfully, he could call her phoenix girl for all she cared. Hiding wasn't something she liked doing, and she hated constantly hiding because of him. She pushed the thoughts from her mind, studying the dragon before her as her eyes narrowed. She sighed softly, though and leaned back on the palms of her hands.
"To be honest, I do not care if others know what I am. It is not a life I wish to live, however; it is because my brother believes it will keep us alive long enough until he can be found," she spoke, her eyes faltering. She raised them back up to meet the dragon's, and pursed her lips together. "Sachiko, if you must call me something," she finally stated, giving the dragon her name in response. "The other one is Kenji, or Ken to some. I just call him Ji-Ji," she stated in a nonchalant fashion. It wasn't like anyone would call him that other than her, though. She'd be surprised if someone did. Probably a little amused as well.
âSachiko,â he repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue. It seemed a little⊠girlish, for someone like her, but then it wasnât like he really had much of an opinion on the matter. Shrugging slightly, he figured he could at least return the courtesy. Though heâd gone by âYukioâ in a large number of villages to this point, it was not his actual name. âCall me Yuu. Mr. Dragon is my father.â He cracked a grin at that, actually. His name probably wouldnât have been all that recognizable even if heâd given her the full one, but he was a little too careful to provide his real surname. The given one, though, wasnât likely to ring any bells, as such, so he sometimes used it as well.
As to who the mysterious he was, Yuu could only assume that she referred to the instigator of the phoenix massacre, considering. He didnât know the identity of that person, else heâd have had him executed himself, in accordance with the judgement of the previous Dragon-Prince. Likely, though, he was still in court somewhere, fighting viciously for position like the rest of them. Well, whatever the case, it wasnât his business.
âIf you want to find a dragon,â he offered offhandedly, âmost of them will be gathering in the capital in a few months. Theyâll be holding a tournamentâanyone who still considers themselves part of the hierarchy will be there. Hard to get into, but if you can⊠youâll probably be able to find him.â
Sachiko laughed, the sound coming out nothing as she appeared to be. It wasn't obnoxious, nor boisterous, but it was neither soft or melodic. It was simply there. She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she raised an amused brow. "And here I just thought you were a happy man, not someone who appeared to be tender. You don't look like a very tender person. Chewy, perhaps, but not tender," she chided, though the meaning of his name Yuu could have meant something else entirely, she did not care. She furrowed her brows at his last statement though, and sat back in a proper posture. A tournament, for dragons? She did not care what happened to Masahiro, but her brother would want to know of this. It was still a few months away, however; they couldn't just leave either.
"I do not wish to see my brother head to something so drastic as that. Perhaps, once Hidenori has been dealt with, I will mention the tournament to him. For now, however, I ask you this," she stated, staring Yuu straight in the eye and holding his gaze. "Do not mention it to him. He will get himself killed trying to find him. You understand that I cannot allow my brother to die quite yet, but I do not desire anything to befall Ama-chan, either. Kenji may be strong, but he is not strong enough that he could kill a dragon. Ama-chan... this place needs us more than Kenji's revenge," she asked, lowering her gaze slightly. She, perhaps, was asking a lot, but she cared too much for her brother to throw his life away so carelessly. And she cared enough to want to keep this place safe from the Bakeneko.
Kenji was strong, perhaps, but Masahiro was stronger. One day, Kenji might be strong enough that he could succeed in his revenge, however; as was his duty to find Masahiro, Sachiko considered it her duty to keep her brother alive for as long as possible. For now, she just wanted life to continue to flourish. She was, after all, a creature who loved life.
âYou think any dragon would name her son anything about tenderness?â Yuu retorted lazily, raising a brow. Nevertheless, he snorted, slightly amused by her amusement, perhaps. It faded shortly enough, however, and he shook his head slightly. âI donât plan to tell himâit has nothing to do with me, after all. Do as you like.â She didnât have to worry about Amaya so much, though. As long as he was around, nothing bad would happen to the Little Bird. He would make damn sure of that much.