Generations pt 1

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The weather was unseasonably warm for this time of year, even for southern Dragon lands, and Mirumoto Kissaki was busy directing the servants and laying down the foundation for a karesansui (dry rock garden) to be completed during the spring. The peasants from the local village did not mind (like they would complain anyway), as it gave them something to do during what so far had been an extremely cold winter. This warm period was only expected to last a week or so anyway, according to the local priests, but a chance to get out of the house and do something was welcome by all. This particular garden was being built for a temple on Kissaki’s estate, which would one day be merged with the adjacent construction site (for a dojo, rumor has it), but for now it would be open for the peasants’ use once it was completed. There was eager talk of building a modest lake and stocking it with fish this summer, mostly bass and perch instead of the usual decorative-only koi, but this was just happy heimin speculation. The Dragon clan has always been a practical bunch, and the daimyo’s head gardener seemed to think it a good idea. The one thing the Shinpi province did not lack was available space, and as a relatively rural location, Kissaki’s estate was expansive enough to allow it, all things considered, and the nearby creek would be a convenient water source. Anywhere else such a thing would only be a luxury, but here it could double as a food resource.

The Iron Benten tea certainly didn’t hurt their spirits as they went about laboring in the bright afternoon sun, served by a half-dozen or so students from the Iron Mountain dojo, here to train with Kissaki-sensei, which made for interesting conversation. Thankfully for the laborers, the students presented the bulk of their questions to the local daimyo’s lead gardener, an older Hoshi woman named Akio (who did her best to confound the students with enlightening riddles, but thankfully gave straightforward answers to the laborers... well, as straightforward as a Tsurai Zumi can).

“Kissaki-dono,” one of the house servants said, quietly bowing. “You have a guest. One Mirumoto Uishi-sama. She is waiting in the Plum Blossom room.”

“Thank you, Kuchio-san. Please inform our honored guest that I will be with her shortly. Students, we will resume our training here after dinner.” Kissaki said, observing the obstacle course that Akio’s laborers had made before handing his tea cup off and following the young maiden inside.


--


The previous tenants to the residence had left an old 4-panel shoji screen painted with a vivid green plum tree that bore a single pink blossom in one of the rooms. Kissaki thought it was slightly overly extravagant (but could admit that his Dragon-esque aesthetic taste was spartan at best), but decided to keep it anyway, hence the Plum Blossom Room. The rest of the space was simple and functional; the low table held a simple tea set and one of the cushions held Mirumoto Uishi. She was an old woman, clearly almost to retirement age, but composed herself well. It was instantly clear to Kissaki that she was a trained courtier.

“Greetings, Honored Grandmother. Have you had rice?” Mirumoto Kissaki said, bowing deeply as Kuchio placed bowls of steaming rice and tofu on the table. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Uishi bowed deeply and took her bowl of rice, motioning for her servant to follow Kuchio into the kitchen to have dinner there. “It is you whom I should call Honored Grandfather, Kissaki-dono; I am your most direct living descendant, Mirumoto Uishi Fujiwara no Ryuu.” Uishi, of the Fujiwara branch of the Mirumoto family, of the Dragon clan.

Many carried the name Fujiwara throughout history, one of whom was Kissaki’s oldest son. Kissaki took a sip of his tea, pushing the thought away. Though he had been able to prove himself easily as a follower of Mirumoto and Hojatsu, the records of his family had been thought lost.

“I had been told that the last of my lineage had died long ago,” Kissaki said somberly.

“Records were uncovered in the Seppun archives. Ones which filled in the gaps. Your lineage is, in fact, about a sixth of the Mirumoto family,” Uishi smiled and bowed slightly, setting down her tea and withdrawing a small package from her sleeve, placing it in the center of the low wooden table toward the younger man. “I know it was your wish to not disturb the Celestial Harmony, but something has come up. What can you tell me of this, Kissaki-dono?”

Kissaki set down his tea as well, taking up the small object and carefully unfolding it from its silken wrapping. Very gently, he opened a small fan of rich brown wood and old paper. Studying it for a moment, he gave it a flick; a sharp realization crossed his eyes. “You... I... this was not someth...”

Kissaki paused, breathing deeply, turning the fan in the light. The paper was old, very old, the ink was neither new nor fresh, but a gentle crane in flight, under a light blue geometric border, was still in excellent condition. Even the silver sparkle was in good shape. “Forgive me. Of all the things in the world, this was not something I expected to see again.”

“I am glad to see you recognize it, Kissaki-dono, as it proves our research to be true.” Uishi said, bowing (as much to the fan as to him). “This has been passed down through our family, from mother to son, from husband to bride, for as long as we have written history.”

“Uishi-san, why are you presenting this to me? Should it not go to your son, to continue the tradition?” Kissaki asked curiously, his mind flooding with memories.

Uishi smiled, but it was clear that it was a pained, forced smile. “My son was killed in the fighting with the Phoenix last year. It would have gone to his son, but Roji has joined the Togashi order...”

The old woman was alone, her family gone. She was too old to re-marry and, to Kissaki’s guess, was on the eve of retirement into a monastery. This was likely the last thread of her life that required tying. A fair amount of emotion hung behind her words. “It would please me greatly if you would take up the tradition, so that it may continue unabated.”

Kissaki bowed deeply, carefully thinking of his appropriate refusals.. “Is there not a cousin or someone who could carry it in my place, Grandmother?”

Uishi smiled. “There are, but they are all happily married already. Their children are all too young.”

“It is not my wish to impose, Grandmother. I cannot allow for my presence to disrupt the family or the clan.”

“Kissaki-dono, you could never be an imposition. Your lord, Kistuki Hana-sama, said you were pursuing a Crane bride, one Kakita Rei, and this is our family’s traditional marriage gift for such arrangements. I am quite sure Rei-san will honor such an auspicious gift properly.”

Kissaki smiled, closing the fan. “Then I am honored to carry on the tradition, Grandmother. Thank you.”


--


“You wish to present her with a fan.” Tsubasa said, grimly. Rei’s mother’s concern was tucked safely behind her On.

“I understand that, in the current time, such a thing can sometimes mark impropriety, but I assure you that any such accusations will be met and dealt with, Tsubasa-sama. This fan is most unique.”

Miu was first to speak as she poured tea. “Oh? How so, Kissaki-san?”

Kissaki opened the fan and laid it carefully on the table, neither close to the tea, putting it in danger, nor far from the tea, causing offense, in a way so that the artisan mark of the fan was clearly visible. “This fan was crafted by Lady Doji, from a feather given to her by O’Sarurun-no-Kami, the Fortune of Cranes, and was gifted to me by her. Its sister was given to Lady Shinjo, used by the Unicorn to reclaim their place in Rokugan after their long journey. In my previous life, I then presented this fan to a handmaiden of the Lady, whom I then honorably married. This fan has become a cherished heirloom of the Dragon, passed down for over a thousand years, and has recently been returned to me. To insinuate any impropriety would be an insult all involved, and such an act would be foolish beyond measure. I would present this to Rei-san with no reservations, save only for your permission.”

Tsubasa took up the fan, turning it over and inspecting it gently but sharply; the mark of Lady Doji clearly visible and stamped in bright red. He passed the fan to his wife, who observed it with great reverence. Miu smiled. “Kissaki-san, please tell me more of this fan, that I might know its history.”

“Miu-sama, this lady’s sensu fan was crafted from one of O’Sarurun-no-Kami’s smaller flight feathers, which was about seven shaku in length, longer than I am tall but yet weighed less than a slip of paper, and sandalwood from Lord Kakita’s own garden. It was painted using a brush and ink set given to her by Lady Seppun, flecked with powdered silver given to her by Yasuki-sama. Bayushi-sama taught her to press the feather into paper. It was presented to me by the Lady as thanks for introducing her to the Fortune of Cranes, likely knowing that I would in turn present it to her handmaiden, Akemi, as an engagement gift. After we were married, Akemi carried it with her always and said it reminded her of home on more than one occasion; of all the things that give it value, this is the one that is closest to my heart.

“I was not there to see Akemi-chan present the fan to our son, Fujiwara, as my karma had been fulfilled in battle, but he presented it to his bride, one Kakita Mizuhiko, who then gave it to her eldest son, and so on. It is said that all who have come to possess it have had great fortune and happiness in life, and as it has once again returned to me, I cannot but present it to Rei-san.”

Tsubasa’s frown did not lessen. “How did Kakita-sama react to his wife giving you such an intimate gift?”

“He challenged me to a duel.” Kissaki said flatly. “This was not an accusation of impropriety, because such a thing would be unthinkable, but simply his way of giving me his blessing. I lost, of course, but it was most instructional.”

Tsubasa nodded lightly, but if there was mirth behind his frown, he did not show it.

“Kissaki-san,” Miu said, folding the fan carefully. “You may present this to her with our blessing. Congratulations on your appointment as sensei, by the way. I am certain that you will bring the Dragon much honor, as certainly as you do our family.”

“There is one thing, Kissaki-san.” Tsubasa said. “If we are to properly observe tradition, then I must follow Kakita-dono’s legacy as well. I would not force you into a position to draw your blade on one who would be your father in law, but I fully expect to see you in the dojo first thing tomorrow.”

Kissaki bowed, carefully tucking the fan away into his sleeve. “Of course, sama. I am sure tomorrow will be a most instructional day.”