Nighttime was a period of relative peace and quiet in the Fujiwara household. Ordinarily, that was simply because the human servants were asleep. Now, they were joined by Akarui and his retainers, meaning that the difference was actually quite vast. Tatsuya preferred it when it was quiet like this; too much noise could make him feel overcrowded quite easily, especially when so many of the people were humans.
They couldn't help that they smelled like food, but they did. Particularly, like now, when he was still hungry.
He'd considered finding Reiko and asking if she felt well enough to offer him some of her blood, but she'd been unusually pensive and wan in the last couple of days. He didn't want to press the point when she was like that. He wondered if it was just Sayuri's situation that bothered her, or something else.
Perhaps she would recover now that Ayla was staying here. He hated to admit it on some level, but his sister did seem bolstered by the wolf-woman's presence. It was clearly mutual. Maybe a few months ago he would have been adamantly against allowing something like that to continue, against allowing Ayla into their home, but now he found that he didn't really mind. If she needed somewhere to be and Reiko wanted her around, he had no objections.
Settling his back against the tree, Tatsuya adjusted himself in the branches. It was a sakura tree, about to come into bloom early because it was in Reiko's garden and nothing in Reiko's garden ever really died, not even temporarily. He glanced at a slightly-orange gold sphere and frowned. Orange was anxiety. But it wasn't the dominant color; all of them had had at least traces of orange since they made that stupid bargain with Akarui.
It was snowing heavily now, but the air was still. Tatsuya actually found it quite pleasant; ice was his element, after all. His body ran cold and didn't suffer in the cold. Even if he shut his eyes, he could feel the flakes falling, bathed in a warm glow from the spheres.
Pushing a breath from his nose and observing it form a cloud in the air, he was about to draw something from his sleeve when he noticed something unusual.
Akarui was out of his room, pacing through the garden, accompanied by that weird advisor of his, the one that always seemed to be wearing a hooded robe. Apparently he was a priest or some shit. Tatsuya didn't care about human religion, but something about that guy made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He cocked his ear, picking up the sound of Akarui's voice.
“—leave soon? I think the blond one hates me. The younger one. Seems like he's everywhere."
“Has he said anything to you?" The advisor's voice was smooth, like oil, and just about as greasy, in Tatsuya's opinion.
They drew closer to his tree, apparently unaware of his presence, and Tatsuya consciously concealed it now, curious as to what exactly was going on between Akarui and Kentaro. His brother didn't waste energy or time on emotions like hate, and definitely would not interfere in the lord's business without a very good reason.
“No," Akarui replied. “But I saw him speaking with Risa the other day. What would he want with her?"
Tatsuya could practically hear the adviser roll his eyes. “Perhaps the same thing you usually want with her?"
Oh, so they thought this was about sex then. Risa must be one of Akarui's women. Most lords had several. But not while they were negotiating a marriage in the home of a host. That was pretty close to dishonoring Sayuri, and by extension, the rest of them. Tatsuya didn't give a fuck what he did, obviously, but it wasn't a wise move. Jirō might get offended by something like that.
But Kentaro didn't give a shit about any of that. Tatsuya wasn't sure he'd taken a lover since that time he and Tsubasa had practically forced him into an okiya a few hundred years ago. If he had, he'd done it much more subtly than Tatsuya ever bothered being.
So then why was he talking to Akarui's concubine?
“You think so? That fucking—"
"I don't suggest you bring it up," the adviser said dryly. "Lest your habits in this matter become the object of public scrutiny. You have not been faultless, Akarui-dono. It would be poor form to make that public knowledge, don't you think?"
They passed out of range of even Tatsuya's excellent hearing thereafter. Snorting, he shook his head. Whatever.
Withdrawing his shakuhachi from the sleeve of his gi, Tatsuya polished the bamboo on his shirt before raising it to his lips. After a few practice scales, he settled into a song, taking advantage of the fact that no one was around to bother him, for now.
"Didn't know you could play that well," he wasn't alone for long, it seemed. "Don't mind me, I'm just passing through," she spoke, though she didn't make an obvious effort to leave just yet. She just stared at him for a moment, shook her head, and then took a step forward. "I take it that that was Akarui? she questioned. Her nose seemed to wrinkle, though, as she did. She probably didn't like the way Akarui smelled.
Tatsuya stopped playing, moving the flute down a few inches. He wasn't surprised at her presence; his nose was likely almost as good as hers, and she had a distinctive scent. But he hadn't expected her to address him.
Blinking, he shrugged. “And his spiritual adviser, or whatever that guy is. But yes. That was them." Tatsuya adjusted himself on his branch, but made no effort to climb down to speak. She could hear him just fine.
Someone had put her in a different kimono; one that had not been his at any point. He suspected Reiko and Sayuri. Reiko did not like to dress in that way, herself; she hadn't since their father had died. But she did enjoy treating other people like her dolls. Even him, sometimes.
“You look different," he said casually, turning his flute over a few times in his fingers. “Blue's a good color on you." If she'd been wearing white, she might well have faded into the snowy backdrop, like the yuki-onna from some of the old man's stories.
She scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes. "Your sister had something to say about that, actually. She wouldn't let me wear what I wanted to," she almost grumbled the last words. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, though. "I obviously have no fashion sense, or so Sayuri told me. But if it's comfortable, I'm going to wear it. If not, I won't. Simple as that," she continued, her words holding some truth.
"As for the color," she continued, glancing down at it. "It's not my favorite color. I'd much prefer something darker, maybe a red or purple. But like I said, I apparently don't have any fashion sense," she said, glancing off towards the side. Her eyes narrowed somewhat, as if she'd heard something he could not, before she directed her attention back to him.
“I don't know; personally I've found some of your sartorial selections to be rather inspired," he replied, arching an eyebrow. “But then, I suspect I'm not the only man who enjoys seeing a pretty woman in his clothes." He shrugged.
For a moment, Tatsuya flipped his flute around between his fingers, turning it end-over-end without really paying much attention. “I trust you're comfortable? My sister and that idiot Jirō would both be displeased if I did not do what a good host must and inquire after your well-being." Though... he found he didn't mind. Perhaps he would have, anyway. He wasn't sure what to make of that.
Ayla gave him a blank stare before she barked out a short laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure," she replied with a light shake of her head. "And I'm sure they also enjoy the thought of removing it as well," she spoke, though she rolled her eyes at that one. "I'm about as comfortable as I can be, I suppose. It's not... quite the same as home, but I can't quite complain," she answered, glancing back up at him.
"She doesn't need to go out of her way to accommodate me, though. I'm not exactly important to warrant such things," she spoke in a nonchalant manner. "I might be her friend, but still," she furrowed her brows at that and pursed her lips together. She probably didn't like the way she was being treated, although anyone else in her position might have been a little too overjoyed.
"But I'd probably just make her upset if I said that."
He shrugged. “Reiko doesn't rank importance with title. You know that. So to her, you're probably the most important guest we have. Besides, rank or no, you are a guest. That's enough for most of them." He paused. “Watch out for Daichi, though. He's a bitter little shit, especially recently."
Tatsuya supposed revealing family politics to her wasn't strictly decorous, but he didn't care, either. If Daichi was going to be a stupid prick, he deserved to have people know about it and avoid him accordingly.
"Oh? Is that concern I hear?" she spoke somewhat amused. She laughed softly, though. "Bitter little shit or not, I don't really have to watch out for much. You should know that. My bite is, after all, a lot worse than my bark. Trust me," she stated, perhaps in a confident tone. "Reiko and Sayuri keep me occupied most of the time, so I don't really have much to worry about. I think I've only really met Kentaro so far," she shrugged her shoulders to indicate she didn't really care.
"And you, of course. So, that makes two out of, what, eight?"
He wasn't saying it because he thought Daichi was going to assault her. So the relative power of her bark and her bite had nothing to do with it. But whatever. He was slightly off-put by the allegation that he was concerned, since he really wasn't but he let it pass.
“Six. You'll run into the rest of us eventually," he said, quite certain of it. “There's Jirō, the idiot with the black hair. He's the oldest after me, and probably already knows who you are since he's a nosy shit who knows more than anyone needs to. You'll know which one he is because he dresses the fanciest. Tsubasa's the loudmouth usually carrying a spear. And he's bored easily. The two of you are kind of alike, actually."
Now there was an alarming thought. “You know Kentaro already. Daichi's a redhead, with a sour look on his face all the time. Takahiro's the blind one; his hair's the same color as yours."
She didn't bother hiding her amusement. She was laughing, as if he'd said something funny. Perhaps to her, it was. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to stay clear of everyone but Tsubasa, if we're so alike. Even if its the slightest bit," she replied. The amusement died down, though, and her face seemed to pull back into a passive stare.
"I won't keep you any longer. Thanks for the heads up about your family, I suppose. Don't take this the wrong way but..." she paused, a frown tugging at her lips. "If you need anything I can help with, I'll try. I doubt you'll need it, though, but the offer's there," she spoke, though it was uncertain of what she meant by that. Maybe she was just trying to be nice? "I told Reiko the same thing, so..." she trailed off there at the end.
It was Tatsuya's turn to laugh. The sound was deep and rich; he seldom heard it himself. “Yeah? And if I decide it's been too long since I got laid? You gonna volunteer to come to bed with me and help?" He grinned, well aware that that wasn't at all what she'd meant. “Don't ever give me an open offer, Ayla; I like pushing too much."
"Obviously," she replied, giving him a flat look. She didn't look as amused as he was, and her lips were pursed into a fine line. "If it's been too long since you last got laid, I'd suggest going back to Setsuka's. I'm sure she can arrange something for you. That, or you could find other willing subjects," she wrinkled her nose at that.
"But whatever, ass. All I meant is that if there was something you needed that doesn't require your bed, I'll try and help you," she pursed her lips, the amusement dropping from her face. "I don't exactly know how you all deal with that thirst, either. Can't be easy since you have so many humans around," she stated, her eyes narrowing somewhat. She'd know about that, of course.
"See you around, I guess," she stated, turning to leave and waving over her shoulder.
He snorted, shaking his head as she left and raising his shakuhachi back to his lips.
Teasing her was far too much fun.
They couldn't help that they smelled like food, but they did. Particularly, like now, when he was still hungry.
He'd considered finding Reiko and asking if she felt well enough to offer him some of her blood, but she'd been unusually pensive and wan in the last couple of days. He didn't want to press the point when she was like that. He wondered if it was just Sayuri's situation that bothered her, or something else.
Perhaps she would recover now that Ayla was staying here. He hated to admit it on some level, but his sister did seem bolstered by the wolf-woman's presence. It was clearly mutual. Maybe a few months ago he would have been adamantly against allowing something like that to continue, against allowing Ayla into their home, but now he found that he didn't really mind. If she needed somewhere to be and Reiko wanted her around, he had no objections.
Settling his back against the tree, Tatsuya adjusted himself in the branches. It was a sakura tree, about to come into bloom early because it was in Reiko's garden and nothing in Reiko's garden ever really died, not even temporarily. He glanced at a slightly-orange gold sphere and frowned. Orange was anxiety. But it wasn't the dominant color; all of them had had at least traces of orange since they made that stupid bargain with Akarui.
It was snowing heavily now, but the air was still. Tatsuya actually found it quite pleasant; ice was his element, after all. His body ran cold and didn't suffer in the cold. Even if he shut his eyes, he could feel the flakes falling, bathed in a warm glow from the spheres.
Pushing a breath from his nose and observing it form a cloud in the air, he was about to draw something from his sleeve when he noticed something unusual.
Akarui was out of his room, pacing through the garden, accompanied by that weird advisor of his, the one that always seemed to be wearing a hooded robe. Apparently he was a priest or some shit. Tatsuya didn't care about human religion, but something about that guy made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He cocked his ear, picking up the sound of Akarui's voice.
“—leave soon? I think the blond one hates me. The younger one. Seems like he's everywhere."
“Has he said anything to you?" The advisor's voice was smooth, like oil, and just about as greasy, in Tatsuya's opinion.
They drew closer to his tree, apparently unaware of his presence, and Tatsuya consciously concealed it now, curious as to what exactly was going on between Akarui and Kentaro. His brother didn't waste energy or time on emotions like hate, and definitely would not interfere in the lord's business without a very good reason.
“No," Akarui replied. “But I saw him speaking with Risa the other day. What would he want with her?"
Tatsuya could practically hear the adviser roll his eyes. “Perhaps the same thing you usually want with her?"
Oh, so they thought this was about sex then. Risa must be one of Akarui's women. Most lords had several. But not while they were negotiating a marriage in the home of a host. That was pretty close to dishonoring Sayuri, and by extension, the rest of them. Tatsuya didn't give a fuck what he did, obviously, but it wasn't a wise move. Jirō might get offended by something like that.
But Kentaro didn't give a shit about any of that. Tatsuya wasn't sure he'd taken a lover since that time he and Tsubasa had practically forced him into an okiya a few hundred years ago. If he had, he'd done it much more subtly than Tatsuya ever bothered being.
So then why was he talking to Akarui's concubine?
“You think so? That fucking—"
"I don't suggest you bring it up," the adviser said dryly. "Lest your habits in this matter become the object of public scrutiny. You have not been faultless, Akarui-dono. It would be poor form to make that public knowledge, don't you think?"
They passed out of range of even Tatsuya's excellent hearing thereafter. Snorting, he shook his head. Whatever.
Withdrawing his shakuhachi from the sleeve of his gi, Tatsuya polished the bamboo on his shirt before raising it to his lips. After a few practice scales, he settled into a song, taking advantage of the fact that no one was around to bother him, for now.
"Didn't know you could play that well," he wasn't alone for long, it seemed. "Don't mind me, I'm just passing through," she spoke, though she didn't make an obvious effort to leave just yet. She just stared at him for a moment, shook her head, and then took a step forward. "I take it that that was Akarui? she questioned. Her nose seemed to wrinkle, though, as she did. She probably didn't like the way Akarui smelled.
Tatsuya stopped playing, moving the flute down a few inches. He wasn't surprised at her presence; his nose was likely almost as good as hers, and she had a distinctive scent. But he hadn't expected her to address him.
Blinking, he shrugged. “And his spiritual adviser, or whatever that guy is. But yes. That was them." Tatsuya adjusted himself on his branch, but made no effort to climb down to speak. She could hear him just fine.
Someone had put her in a different kimono; one that had not been his at any point. He suspected Reiko and Sayuri. Reiko did not like to dress in that way, herself; she hadn't since their father had died. But she did enjoy treating other people like her dolls. Even him, sometimes.
“You look different," he said casually, turning his flute over a few times in his fingers. “Blue's a good color on you." If she'd been wearing white, she might well have faded into the snowy backdrop, like the yuki-onna from some of the old man's stories.
She scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes. "Your sister had something to say about that, actually. She wouldn't let me wear what I wanted to," she almost grumbled the last words. She shrugged her shoulders lightly, though. "I obviously have no fashion sense, or so Sayuri told me. But if it's comfortable, I'm going to wear it. If not, I won't. Simple as that," she continued, her words holding some truth.
"As for the color," she continued, glancing down at it. "It's not my favorite color. I'd much prefer something darker, maybe a red or purple. But like I said, I apparently don't have any fashion sense," she said, glancing off towards the side. Her eyes narrowed somewhat, as if she'd heard something he could not, before she directed her attention back to him.
“I don't know; personally I've found some of your sartorial selections to be rather inspired," he replied, arching an eyebrow. “But then, I suspect I'm not the only man who enjoys seeing a pretty woman in his clothes." He shrugged.
For a moment, Tatsuya flipped his flute around between his fingers, turning it end-over-end without really paying much attention. “I trust you're comfortable? My sister and that idiot Jirō would both be displeased if I did not do what a good host must and inquire after your well-being." Though... he found he didn't mind. Perhaps he would have, anyway. He wasn't sure what to make of that.
Ayla gave him a blank stare before she barked out a short laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure," she replied with a light shake of her head. "And I'm sure they also enjoy the thought of removing it as well," she spoke, though she rolled her eyes at that one. "I'm about as comfortable as I can be, I suppose. It's not... quite the same as home, but I can't quite complain," she answered, glancing back up at him.
"She doesn't need to go out of her way to accommodate me, though. I'm not exactly important to warrant such things," she spoke in a nonchalant manner. "I might be her friend, but still," she furrowed her brows at that and pursed her lips together. She probably didn't like the way she was being treated, although anyone else in her position might have been a little too overjoyed.
"But I'd probably just make her upset if I said that."
He shrugged. “Reiko doesn't rank importance with title. You know that. So to her, you're probably the most important guest we have. Besides, rank or no, you are a guest. That's enough for most of them." He paused. “Watch out for Daichi, though. He's a bitter little shit, especially recently."
Tatsuya supposed revealing family politics to her wasn't strictly decorous, but he didn't care, either. If Daichi was going to be a stupid prick, he deserved to have people know about it and avoid him accordingly.
"Oh? Is that concern I hear?" she spoke somewhat amused. She laughed softly, though. "Bitter little shit or not, I don't really have to watch out for much. You should know that. My bite is, after all, a lot worse than my bark. Trust me," she stated, perhaps in a confident tone. "Reiko and Sayuri keep me occupied most of the time, so I don't really have much to worry about. I think I've only really met Kentaro so far," she shrugged her shoulders to indicate she didn't really care.
"And you, of course. So, that makes two out of, what, eight?"
He wasn't saying it because he thought Daichi was going to assault her. So the relative power of her bark and her bite had nothing to do with it. But whatever. He was slightly off-put by the allegation that he was concerned, since he really wasn't but he let it pass.
“Six. You'll run into the rest of us eventually," he said, quite certain of it. “There's Jirō, the idiot with the black hair. He's the oldest after me, and probably already knows who you are since he's a nosy shit who knows more than anyone needs to. You'll know which one he is because he dresses the fanciest. Tsubasa's the loudmouth usually carrying a spear. And he's bored easily. The two of you are kind of alike, actually."
Now there was an alarming thought. “You know Kentaro already. Daichi's a redhead, with a sour look on his face all the time. Takahiro's the blind one; his hair's the same color as yours."
She didn't bother hiding her amusement. She was laughing, as if he'd said something funny. Perhaps to her, it was. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to stay clear of everyone but Tsubasa, if we're so alike. Even if its the slightest bit," she replied. The amusement died down, though, and her face seemed to pull back into a passive stare.
"I won't keep you any longer. Thanks for the heads up about your family, I suppose. Don't take this the wrong way but..." she paused, a frown tugging at her lips. "If you need anything I can help with, I'll try. I doubt you'll need it, though, but the offer's there," she spoke, though it was uncertain of what she meant by that. Maybe she was just trying to be nice? "I told Reiko the same thing, so..." she trailed off there at the end.
It was Tatsuya's turn to laugh. The sound was deep and rich; he seldom heard it himself. “Yeah? And if I decide it's been too long since I got laid? You gonna volunteer to come to bed with me and help?" He grinned, well aware that that wasn't at all what she'd meant. “Don't ever give me an open offer, Ayla; I like pushing too much."
"Obviously," she replied, giving him a flat look. She didn't look as amused as he was, and her lips were pursed into a fine line. "If it's been too long since you last got laid, I'd suggest going back to Setsuka's. I'm sure she can arrange something for you. That, or you could find other willing subjects," she wrinkled her nose at that.
"But whatever, ass. All I meant is that if there was something you needed that doesn't require your bed, I'll try and help you," she pursed her lips, the amusement dropping from her face. "I don't exactly know how you all deal with that thirst, either. Can't be easy since you have so many humans around," she stated, her eyes narrowing somewhat. She'd know about that, of course.
"See you around, I guess," she stated, turning to leave and waving over her shoulder.
He snorted, shaking his head as she left and raising his shakuhachi back to his lips.
Teasing her was far too much fun.