Fantasy mono no aware

[Aster]

• Kisara ❀ Fukami •​

The Ashuran joke was fortunately not completely lost, but had Kisara failed to pick up the teasing hint in Takara’s voice, she would’ve very well believed her relative’s murmurings on the strange Ashuran pastimes. As capable as Takara looked and proved (given what had happened at Ido Falls), the honey blonde couldn’t picture him fighting Aichirou, much less a mountain bear. He seemed much too refined, almost delicate and the idea of him in an arm lock with a bear concerned her.

She kept peace in watchful silence despite the storm which clouded jade. She's seen this look before many times in the past when the Fukami elders were weighing the decision on who to make heir. Though, it wasn't the elders who bore doubt; they were far too wise than to reveal such an emotion to the young candidates. But it was her brother who contemplated on stepping down for her sister's ambition (and his own lack of desire for additional responsibility).

She waited patiently as he tried to string his thoughts, quietly touched at his willingness to open up, to let her in. Maybe their marriage won't be a complete disaster.

Before Kisara could even open her mouth to reply, Takara had cut her off with an answer to his own question, closing the open-ended conversation. Mentally, it felt like a door peeking open only to be slammed in her face. She was piqued, but not enough to do little more than drop her lips to a pout.

"You!" her voice pitches in embarrassed heat, his words confirming that he had heard the full conversation. Her cheeks flare with color and this time, she fails to conceal it.
The unexpected boyish grin made her heart skipped a beat, and Kisara concludes that it must be some sort of technique used to prevent her from staying angry at him.

It works.

"Grey would make you stick out like a sore thumb in a cavalry," she retorts childishly at his back, implying her weak support for Raiva's blessing. She knows her tacit comment won't be lost on him and Takara already knew the truth on her opinion of ashen. With her pride too wounded to wish him good night, Kisara bids him with a light but off-putting remark.

"I'll think about it."

She accepts his peace offering of food and only breathes out once the door closes and his footsteps fade.

"As if I could sleep peacefully tonight," Kisara thinks, with her face in her hands. The picture of mischief burned into her mind setting loose a jackhammer of emotions Kisara mistakes as rage and shame. She spends the next hour finishing up half of the food given to her before leaving to encroach Aichirou's room. Anywhere would be better than there. Hanami would just have to learn to share.

That or maybe she could find some sleep darts.

Interactions: Takara Nano | Mentions: Hanami A Murder Of Corviknight | Mood: Eat out her emotions | Location: Ido Inn​

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

It was a good thing that Aichirou had his body drilled with intense lessons on body control. The natural reflex would have been to dodge when the two sharp objects came flying towards him but given the speed of the chopsticks, Aichirou knew he wouldn’t have time to. He stood frozen and unflinching, save for the slight narrowing of his eyes.

The two chopsticks sunk into the wood behind him with a clunk and amber moved to see them embedded only a few centimeters from him. Poker-faced (because even when shock, Aichirou’s visage still held perfect aloofness), he met Hanami’s glare.

“Ah, sorry if I interrupted your meal,” he said watching the ravenhead pocket the half-eaten rice ball. He nodded his head a fraction as thanks when she offered her guidance and made no other comment to the near death experience.

Her apology took him off guard but it was her little joke at the end which made him react.

“It’s okay,” he answered with a hint of laughter in his voice. Surprisingly, Aichirou picked up on Ashuran humor better than his sister. That, or maybe the thought of Hanami training with bears wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded.

“I’m sure it’s better than us Fukami. We’re forced to dine with snakes.”

It was a figurative comment comparing the Fukami to scheming and treacherous reptiles (even Aichirou had few he could trust) but the young prince wasn’t too concerned with Hanami taking his words literally.

Amused that her comment was taken as a mere joke, though her expression was still impassive, Hanami merely tilted her in acknowledgement at the Fukami prince. Like the wind, her mood shifted from irritation to amusement to quiet contemplation. She wasn’t dense and understood that it was meant to be a joke but her mind immediately fiddled with the idea. A part of her wondered if it would be an interesting and effective twist to training. Another very small part of her (that sounded suspiciously like her nagging bothersome mother), slapped at the idea with a big firm “NO”. Even to the average Ashuran, playing with snakes while eating would be considered a crazy and stupid idea.

But, strange as her mindset was, the Ashuran princess decided on a compromise and tucked that idea away for a later (and much less sensitive) time so they could get back to their room quickly.

Just as they rounded out and towards the corridor, a faint familiar scent of cherry blossoms permeated his senses; a scent which could easily be mistaken for the smell of flowers blooming nearby but Aichirou knew better. Even though he heard no footsteps and felt no presence, Kisara Fukami was more than adept in sneaking around places unseen.

When a sudden hand was gently placed on both of their shoulders, Aichirou could only turn, expressionless as ever but eyes swimming with worry. What did his sister want this time?

While Aichirou only turned, Hanami had to still her usual “maim before interrogation” reaction by keeping her hands firmly folded in front of her before turning her head slightly to side-eye the younger princess. Was it common Fukami behavior to be invasive? Casually but pointedly, Hanami removed her shoulder from under Kisara’s hand. She tilted her head at the blonde in greeting, using the strategic pause to remember her name, before politely asking, “...Kisara-san. Are you lost as well?”

The smile on Kisara’s face held nothing good and her hands withdrew with graceful ease. A shift in her eyes told Aichirou that she noticed the slight disdain in Hanami’s stoic features, but it seemed she was more amused than sorry.

“Good evening again, brother,” she said nodding once in Aichirou’s direction and another at Hanami’s, “Sister-in-law.”

Her brows rose at the mention of ‘as well’ but the honey blonde did not seem surprised. It was Aichirou after all, but his flaw a blow to the Fukami’s pride and thus her small smile hardened on her face.

“I’m not lost. I’m here to inform the slight changes in our living arrangements,” she explained, weaving a perfect lie, “It’s improper for an unwed couple to sleep under the same roof, especially before the performed ceremonies. As such, my brother will be taking my place with Takara-san.”

“I’m sure you know the way back, don’t you, brother dearest?” The smile on Kisara’s face widened as pointed words threw invisible daggers at the snow-haired male. While she may have gotten over her embarrassment with Takara, she was nowhere done with taking out her anger on Aichirou.

As though sensing this, the Fukami prince could only agree with the barest trace of discomfort. He nodded and gave a short bow, wishing the two good night before quickly scuffling out of sight.

With a light sound of agreement, Hanami watched the two siblings interact with all the sharp intensity of a curious crow. Her head tilted slightly, a tell that most who knew her well enough to take a very wary note of. Curiosity with the raven haired woman was typically never a positive, as it usually meant she was bored enough to actively look for a physical challenge.

Dark impassive-looking eyes searched for the smallest hint of a lie from the blonde. Something interesting. However, it wasn’t long before the intensity of her stare shed like the feathers of a crow. Whatever tell the raven-haired woman was looking for, she wasn’t able to find it in either of the Fukami siblings.

‘It’s fine,’ she thought without much disappointment, as she swept past the other woman to lead the way to their rooms. She wasn’t expecting anything interesting from Fukami. Rumors said that most of the Fukami were all bark and no bite. Which was disappointing, but Hanami could never even make an effort to seem surprised.

(Aster’s Note: Perfect example of Ashuran racism there Hanami)

Seeing how Hanami made no comment on the changes, Kisara took it as a sign that her plan had succeeded. She did not, however, made any attempt to converse with the ravenhead, having exhausted herself mentally with Ashuran affairs. From the meeting with Raiva to the exchange with Takara, the Fukami princess was more than ready to go home.

It grieved her to think that it would be days until they could return back to west Kai, and even when they will, she would not be able to stay there for long. Such thoughts were not dwelled on for long.

“Good night, Hanami-san,” was all Kisara had said before snuffing out the remaining flame which kept the bedroom lit.

-----​

Aichirou, on the other hand, was lucky enough to be able to find his way back to Kisara’s room (having just came back from there). He dreaded having to explain to Takara why he was there instead of his sister and he doubted that the male would believe the lie his sister used.

On the bright side, this arrangement cleared the unspoken discomfort of his sister sleeping alone with an Ashuran. While he knows Kisara is more than capable of taking care of herself, a part of him still worried. No matter how smart or cunning his sister is, in a battle of strength, Takara had a higher chance of winning.

The room was dim when Aichirou entered and the only light source was a flickering flame on a single candle seated on a nightstand. The folding partition which divided the sleeping quarters from the rest area was moved to form a clear split in the bedroom; something Aichirou was more than grateful for.

With Takara sleeping on the other side of the partition, he would have no way to tell who was on the other side, unless the ashenhead has x-ray vision. Relieved at the given arrangement, no doubt set up by Takara himself, Aichirou settled into his futon, letting sleep claim him shortly afterwards.

----​

The male was rudely woken up a few hours later with something tickling his cheek. Before dawn could break, Kisara ushered a drowsy Aichirou out of her room and just as he was about to reach his own, he ran into a maid who looked surprised to see him up.

“So where’s breakfast?” he asked, shaking the maid from her stupor. She looked confused for a moment, considering how no one in the right mind ought to be looking for breakfast at 4:30 in the morning, but shook it off as one of those ‘Fukami things’.

Bowing her head, she answered stiffly, “It’s being prepared, sir*.” And briskly scuffled away.

Embarrassed by his poor cover up, Aichirou too, wanted nothing more than to leave. Too awake now to fall asleep, the Fukami prince contented himself with finding a high elevated place in the inn to watch the sunrise.

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Hanami | Fukami Aichirou | Fukami Kisara
OBJECTIVE. Just get yourself to the next day already :c
MOOD. What why
NOTES. *...idk what that asterisk was for actually. Aster left me no note or comment. > w >;;;
TAGGED. Aster | Nano | Aster

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] Light jade bore into the wooden ceiling above. Time passed by like a sigh as his breath stilled into a tacit pattern of rise and falls. Should a passing servant have pressed their ear to the door, they would have figured he was long asleep, yet his eyes remained wide open. At least in a physical sense. These days, it wasn’t uncommon for him to lie awake in bed before the soft chirping outside lulled him to sleep.

Rolling like the ever stormy waves in his gaze were the parting words of the Fukami’s Princess. “Grey would make you stick out like a sore thumb in calvary,” was it? Though a reflection of his own thoughts, the more he repeated it, the further his frown unraveled into a light smile that played on his lips. Well, so be it. If being “different” brought attention, it only meant more opponents for him to cross arms with.

His mind’s venture into childish thoughts did not go unnoticed. Perhaps it was high time to turn in for the day. Regardless of when and where he made rest, it was a deeply ingrained habit of his to wake on the same time every day. Naturally, it was earlier than the average riser. Failing to manage his time had always meant falling behind, after all.

Settling further into the warmth of the futon, Takara finally succumbed to the lazy drone of sleep. He could have sworn his ears had caught the faint noise of rustling sheets beyond the partition, but the thought soon drowned within the whisper of his exhales.

---​

“Smells…”

Unfamiliar. Did something happen?

Like usual, Takara had risen at “ungodly hours,” as the other Ashurans frequently commented. Plainly said, it was before daybreak.

As expected, no indication of movement met his ears. The only sounds which remained in the room were the dying chirps of the fleeting night and the faint breathing of the person on the opposite side of the screen. Yet what assaulted his nose when his walk stalled at the end of the partition was a scent that he didn’t recall wafting from that pale-skinned blonde. Incidentally, from these clues he…

—managed to deduce absolutely nothing.

Nor did he have any intentions of following that train of thought. Whatever the Fukami had decided to bring into the room was not something in need of his concern. While she had indeed reacted rather flatly to his “offer” the previous night, it wasn’t like she’d truly go after his life over something so petty. The Fukami were described by his clan as viciously vindictive, but it wasn’t a healthy habit to succumb to rumors, right? Right.

Shrugging off the “smell”—as well as the potentially offensive word he had unknowingly left hanging in the air—and pushing it to the recesses of his mind, Takara continued on to the entryway to check if any servants happened to be loitering about the halls nearby. Spotting none, he gave up on the task of inquiring about breakfast with a sigh and returned to the head of his futon, above which his sword had remained throughout the night.

Lightly running his left hand across the cold steel, he bore into the silver as the reflection of his eyes challenged his gaze. He had known from stories, but it took experience to realize the gap between the “dangerous” wild animals that wandered the mountains and yokai such as the overgrown fish at Ido Falls. Mere mock fights and vigorous practice of techniques could only take him so far, and the points where he lacked had been pointed out rather painfully. However—

“Even if this happens to be yours,” he voiced to himself, “I’ll definitely become greater and prove them wrong.” Then perhaps he’d be able to meet them whose only connection was in his name. But he supposed some more discipline and conditioning couldn’t hurt before then.

With both his katana and tanto in tow, Takara gently (praying that the sleeping blonde wouldn’t wake) slid the doors to the gardens open. The familiar scent of the crisp before morning air was reminiscent of his usual routine. However, for the first time in a month, the once-ashen-haired man first removed his tanto from its sheath with a dull snap.

To say that the knife’s weight felt awkward in his hands was an understatement. As spectacularly displayed during its previous use, Takara’s skill in tantojutsu fell behind the general average of the highly combative Ashura. It only took a few more shakily executed forms for him to stare disappointingly at his hand. Twisting the knife this way and that was simple enough when it came to basic maneuvers, but he’d end up having to rely on physical strength again if that was all he could do. How had the others done it again? Thinking back on it, he had, on occasion, spotted that idiotic Shu practicing with a knife. No, it wouldn’t do to steal tips off of an idiot.

Sighing for the nth time that morning, Takara pocketed the tanto within the inner folds of his robe and altered his stance to that which was much more natural to him. For a brief moment, his unreadable expression turned almost childish. Other than a means to compete with his peers, swordsmanship was also a pastime that he had enjoyed throughout the blood and tears of his childhood. Though some might view it as a barbaric sport which existed merely to assist in maiming, to him, it was an art form in itself. From subtly angling the reflective blade so that it would blend in with the ground to the dance-like drawing of that sharp edge, every movement could be described as “elegant” when done properly, though he admittedly didn’t have much of an eye for beauty.

Drawing his sword in a perfect arc, Takara steadily went through a familiar form with sharp and precise movements. Though there were no targets in sight, his carefully halting steps gradually formed a series of fluid movements which blended in with the flow of his pure white sleeves. It was as if here were fighting an invisible enemy.

Once satisfied with his brief exercise, he returned his sword back to its sheath, this time with no intentions to practice drawing it once again.

The tinge of the day’s first rays of light stung his cold face. Takara blinked into the horizon. “It’s already morning. Should it be alright to ask about breakfast now?” Not that he really needed permission to do so, he supposed.

Grimacing at the reminder of that unfamiliar treatment, the Ashuran averted his attention by patting dust off of his clothes before proceeding to head back to the room. [/div] [/div] [/div]

#fukami kisara

Aster

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[Aster]

• Kisara ❀ Fukami •​

"Smells..." was one thing the Fukami princess never thought to hear said about her, especially from an unconscious Ashuran.

She stiffened in her place, offense taken out on the sheets which were crumpled in her fists. Was he implying that she smelled? Usually when one says that they mean it in a bad way don't they? A frown took place as the babe sniffed the back of her hand, taking cautious care not to make any sound (which isn't too difficult considering her experience in sneaking out and around Fukami grounds when she was younger). She didn't stink, from what she could detect, but maybe Ashuran noses weren't used to the scents she wore.

The Fukami princess usually masks herself in floral perfumes and was given a life of luxury at birth. Expensive oils were used to soften her skin and add a pleasant but subtle fragrance to her hair, often to compliment the flowers she weaves into them. Never had the scents she used been overbearingly strong for one to notice, but it was the underlying kind which intoxicates those who spends their time around her. They say certain smells can affect ones mood around you and that played a heavy factor on likability. Psychological tactics like these were not above the Fukami.

Still, she never had expected someone to comment negatively about it. The comment made her worried unnecessarily and she tried to shake it off as just a mere slip of tongue. Maybe Takara was sleep-talking. Judging from the silence which fell afterwards, Kisara assumed he was.

The honeyed brunette continued to lay in her futon, mind swimming through what was going to happen. Today would be the first day of the ceremonies. Once they've start, they'd continue until the last one is completed and that would mark their official marriage. The reality of it still hasn't sunken in for her but it was finally starting to set that there would be no turning back soon.

She remained in her place, even when she heard Takara rise. Though she remained awake, her body clung to the warmth the sheets provided in unwillingness to start the day so soon.

“Even if this happens to be yours, I’ll definitely become greater and prove them wrong.”

That line made her think and it almost felt wrong for her to have heard what was so private. It wouldn't be appropriate for her to rise now, especially if the Ashuran prince believes she's asleep so she continues to feign sleep until he leaves the room. Only then does she sit up, eyes following the direction he went. There wasn't any point in trying to sleep anymore. She's been trying since she entered.

While Takara went out to do Sans knows what, Kisara went towards the direct of the washroom and there she took her time to freshen up. Her hair was combed out and braided once again. It seemed lacking without new fresh blooms but that problem was adjusted as the babe plucked flowers which adorned their room in vases to use as replacement. It wasn't a flower found in West Kai but it was pretty all the same.

Having finished ahead of time, she followed after Takara out of curiosity. Maybe he had went to get breakfast. She was already hungry despite eating a snack late that night.

When she sees Takara with his sword in hand, she stops herself from approaching, choosing instead to spectate from a safe polite distance. His movements strike down every misconception she had about Ashurans fighting, how their fighting methods were brutish and relied on pure strength (/coughs Hanami) but this was like an art form in itself. Each drawing swing was swift and clear, like the dances she learns in West Kai. (Although, her dances were nothing of the normal sort. They were all killing techniques under the convincing guise of a dance.)

She had only intended to peek for a while before leaving but found herself watching until the ravenhead was finished. Even then, she had to stop herself from clapping in response. A good performance always deserved an applaud, but this was training and Kisara was intruding.

Their eyes met when Takara moved to step back into the room and she smiled in greeting, "Good morning. Did you have pleasant dreams?" she asked, the question intending to draw his thoughts of her watching him away.

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the front door and girl's voice called out greeting the two. "Breakfast is served in the main hall. I will leave the change of clothes for you two here."

The door slid opened a fraction to leave two neatly folded kimonos on the floor before closing. The footsteps indicated the girl's departure and the couple wasted no time getting to the main hall. Kisara had changed first, kicking Takara out of the room completely so she could have her privacy. Once they were dressed they walked towards the dining room where food was served. Along the way there, the Fukami princess made small talk, trying to subtly figure what Takara meant by 'smells'. It bothered her even now..

Interactions: Takara Nano | Mentions: None | Mood: Not be impressed by Takara's badass sword moves | Location: Ido Inn​

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] When his gaze met those amber hues, every fiber in his body seemed to reflexively stiffen. His expression grew wary. From mockery to scrutiny, nothing good ever came out of being observed. Various questions began to hurtle through his mind at mach speed.

How long had she been there? From the beginning? Just now? Rather, it wasn’t like him to fail in detecting an intruder’s approach. Just how stealthy was this person, and what were her goals? Could she be silently inspecting his weaknesses? Perhaps the elders weren’t joking when they claimed that the Fukami were capable of killing you in your sleep.

“Wh-” an unintelligible noise barely made itself out of Takara’s throat when he was promptly interrupted by the blonde’s greeting. He bit his tongue lightly in minor irritation. Regardless, whatever he wished to say was too late in the coming by the time the pair had been called for breakfast. Swallowing back his commentary, Takara settled for making a mental note that it might be a good idea to sleep with one eye open for the time being. Ashuran pride made taking advantage of people in their sleep unlikely, so he’d always snooze defenselessly unless it was the wilderness. However, the blonde currently made him feel as if he might find himself eating the words he had jokingly told her last night.

Fortunately, the two didn’t have to stick around alone for long, with Takara being promptly tossed out the door rather willingly after being given a change of clothes. The awkwardness aside, it took a suicidal Ashuran to indulge in their lustful fantasies. As a blatant trespass against their code of honor and respect, the punishments for peeping weren’t light. Being flayed by the person you offended was the least of your worries. As for the results of the duel that ensued...it wasn’t a thought that he enjoyed entertaining.

By the time the two were fully dressed, the tension had dissipated. At least, Takara hoped that the sudden ease wasn’t all just in his head. He complied with the Fukami’s small talk, regardless, and, in a similar fashion, breakfast was done and over with just as uneventfully. And all the while, the Ashuran Prince remained completely ignorant of his little outburst that continued to plague a certain brunette’s mind.

While the servants milled about to clean up their breakfast, one pulled the two princes aside. “The preparations for the the ceremony are complete,” he said, “so if you would please head this way.” And with a gesture, the ebony-haired man led the twosome towards the direction of Ido Falls.

Aichiriou, at best, appeared to be still in a daze. Takara, on the other hand, perked up at the mention of “ceremony.” If it was the cleansing ceremony, the two were to sit under the falls for quite some time. For a Ashura, it wasn’t much worse than a bearbite. That is, if it hadn’t been for “the incident” just the night before. Concern entangled his mind until he couldn’t resist turning towards the servant leading them to the falls.

“Would it be permissible to bring my sword along?” were the words that tumbled out of those loose lips of his. Almost immediately, Takara regretted his words. The servant before them looked no less than judgemental, as if he were reconsidering whether or not the Ashuran Prince’s hair color change meant much at all. His voice almost seemed to shake as he kept his tone even and respectful while promptly responding, “I do not believe that it would be appropriate to do so.”

With no better follow up than a simple “oh,” Takara chose to keep silent for the rest of the walk. His only thoughts were a silent prayer that the servant didn’t come to the conclusion that he was wary or afraid of mere fish.

Soon enough, the small party was standing beside the rumbling falls, close enough so that the early morning-chilled mist could tickle their faces. Gripping the ceremonial garments that they had just been handed tightly, Takara closed his eyes in short meditation. Of course, it was not to psych himself up for the endurance he’d need, but rather to calm his frayed nerves about floundering about in potentially yokai-infested water. It was nothing that an Ashuran couldn’t handle, right? Right. That fact didn’t even need to be said.

Takara slowly exhaled his worries along with his breath. That aside, there was something else that had been tickling his mind throughout the walk to the falls.

He trained a hard gaze on the white-haired Fukami beside him and studied him unabashedly. He hadn’t been able to tell before, but now that they were away from the obstructively heavy scents of food and perfume, Aichirou’s scent seemed to match with the “strange” scent that had been in their bedroom. Could it be...

“Do siblings often sleep together? If you do not find my question impudent, that is.” Though it wasn’t evident in the expression on his face, he took care to use a tone and phrasing that made him sound as polite as possible. Well, even if the Fukami refused to answer, it was fine as long as he got that question out of the way.

Waving his hand as a sign to not mind it if it was an uncomfortable topic, Takara continued, “Well, good luck to you during the ceremony.”

Hopefully, they’d be more fortunate this time around. [/div] [/div] [/div]

#fukami kisara--#fukami aichirou

Aster

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[Aster]

• Aichirou Fukami •​

The corners of Aichirou's lips twitched just a fraction when the Ashuran prince brazenly asked if he could bring his sword to the cleansing ceremony. As far as Aichirou was aware, the ceremony they were to perform was nothing of the violent sort, though it certainly wasn't going to be easy. To stand underneath a thousand gallons of crashing water sounded suicidal, if not insane, but if the Ashuran royals had completed this ceremony and lived long enough to produce offspring, then it can't be that bad. Or so, Aichirou reasoned.

Still, it was a curious request which perked the Fukami's interest. With a straight face, he asked in genuine honesty (which in retrospect, could be passed off as mockery) "What would you need a blade for? Do you plan to cut the waterfall with it?" He honestly meant no malice in his words. His questions were merely childish thoughts produced at the ignorance of an Ashuran's strength.

When given the odd question, Aichirou merely rose a brow, thinking carefully about his answer. He recalled the times he slept with his sister when they were young kids, but that was quickly put to a stop once they hit the ages of five and six. He hadn't shared a room with his sister since which made him answer with a shake of his head.

A rare, small smile was offered by the Fukami prince and with a small nod, he wished Takara luck too. Was luck needed in such a ceremony? He wondered and stepped into the river.

The water's biting temperatures shot right up his leg, soaking his thin, white yukata. His teeth gritted as he waded towards the waterfall. There were two priests on either sides of Takara and Aichirou, waving gold batons with talismans dangling from its protruding ends. Their chants did little to egg the Fukami on as the waters current grew stronger, threatening to push him down. He couldn't afford that to happen, in fear of hitting his head on the stones below, passing out and being drowned to death. Shame was the least of his concerns.

Fortunately, his natural poker face betrayed any signs of his hardship, fears and struggle. His impassiveness garnered him slight respect from the priests as he pressed on, coming before the looming waterfall. The spray of mist hit his face in light flicks and his dread for standing underneath it multiplied on an exponential scale. Once before it, he couldn't move further. Dead eyes stared with utmost unwillingness as his body refused to throw itself underneath the liquid weight.

Freezing in place, he turned to Takara, waiting for the Ashuran to move first; a poor attempt to stall the inevitable.

Interactions: Takara Nano || Mentions: None || Mood: x ​

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] Takara’s expression swirled with a familiar turbulence. Unlike the Fukami who (more logically) worried of their impending death by a waterfall, the Ashuran scanned the area for any signs of oversized fish—the sort that could make fish food out of humans.

The water was as clear as polished glass. If he peered into the water’s depths, he could even see the light’s refractions ripple across the lakebed. Thinking back on it, it didn’t appear deep enough for a large “fish” to swim around undetected. But it didn’t ease his worries. That sliver of doubt would stick around like a persistent itch so long as he didn’t have his trusted partner by his side.

A faint splash alerted the raven-head of Aichirou’s wading into the water. Determined not to be beaten, Takara hastily dipped his own feet into the water. The result was instant regret. A flash of pale jade scrawled his evident surprise as a frigid shock traveled up his legs. Unbeknownst to him, the river had retained its icy chill from the previous night. The water wasn’t so much unbearable while barely at his knees (he’d accidentally slipped on snow and fallen into a slushy pond at some point in his life), but several minutes of being completely submerged in it was a different story. He briefly entertained the thought of which masochistic ashuran came up with this tradition, but his distractive thoughts were quickly pushed aside.

If his father could do it, then so could he.

Takara didn’t know why Aichirou suddenly froze in place, but he took it as an invitation to be the first to take the plunge. Literally. The experience was, to say, less than enjoyable. Pressure from the water beating down on his shoulders provided a struggle to return to a “relaxed” posture. However, rather than the pressure, the temperature of the water was significantly more difficult to bear, chilling him to the bone and out.

In a vain attempt to take his mind away from the creeping numbness of his skin, the raven-head concentrated on the whispers within the water rushing past his ears. His breathing quickly evened out, and his body felt a little warmer (or was that wishful thinking?). In the end, however, the babbling of the waterfall warped into a taunting countdown of the seconds past—only each seemed to stretch itself longer and longer.

“So,” he suddenly spoke, “what are your impressions of my cousin?” His speaking was just loud enough to carry over the noise of the rushing water but controlled so that anyone not adjacent to him would fail to hear his words. As for the choice in topic, half was merely the first thing he could bring up to further distract himself from the slow passage of time. The other half was simple curiosity, lightly adding to his question with a subtle laugh as to not press for a gilded answer. “Her personality probably carries a lot of baggage even for a black-haired Ashuran.” [/div] [/div] [/div]

#fukami aichirou

Aster

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[Aster]

• Aichirou Fukami •​

There was an old proverb in Fukami poetry about how everything in existence contained properties of its opposite deep within. Ying within yang, darkness within light. The meaning now unraveled itself before Aichirou as the biting cold became so freezing that it almost felt... hot? That or he was losing his mind to the cold, his brain slowly numbing until he could look out into the cosmos.

He took his first step towards his impending liquid doom when Takara proved that it was physically possible to withstand the crushing weight of the waterfall. Upon his first step, teeth gritted as he forced his body to straighten against the crashing waves. The pressure reminded him of the time when his cousins and Kisara had tried stacking as many books as they could on him while he was asleep. He had a nightmare at the same time, where he was flattened to a pancake by the Fukami castle. Only this experience was worse, because not only was the water heavy, but it was also wet, cold and made things extremely difficult to breathe.

His mouth parted a fraction to gulp in air. He kept his teeth closed to filter out the water that threatened to seep in. Then he heard a sound to his right and he looked over to see that Takara was just half-way in the waterfall and not completely under it.

Which... actually made perfect sense. Standing underneath it was already hard enough. Why was he making his own life so difficult? He took a half-step forward, just enough for the front part of his face to stick out.

He had failed to catch the full question but he heard 'black-haired Ashuran'. Instead of asking for a repeat, he made a quick guess and replied, "Black hair looks nice."

Before he could say anymore, the priests seemed to notice their half-ass attempts in completing the ritual and pushed their chests back into the waterfall with their ceremonial rods. Unprepared for the sudden thrust, Aichirou had breathed in some water and began coughing. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he prayed to for the first time to dear San to end his misery soon.

With great self control and some considerable amount of hacking, the Fukami male stifled his pain into shudders and completed the rest of the ritual in silence. While his face remained straight and impassive, his eyes were clearly devoid of any life. His nose turned to the color of winter apples, rubicund and flushed against his pale coloring.

Somewhere in the near distance, Kisara watched from the temple bridge which extended above the waterfall. Fingernails dug into carmine wood as she saw his struggle, and she was half-tempted in tossing a well-aimed hairpin at the dingus who dared shove her brother.

Interactions: Takara Nano || Mentions: None || Mood: Get me out of here ​

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] “Black hair looks nice,” was the answer that fed his confusion. Times where Takara needed some time to think over his response were commonplace. Moments where he where he had absolutely no follow-up whatsoever, however, weren’t quite so frequent. This was one of those moments.

“Black hair looks nice?” How exactly this statement was related to the topic at hand was a mystery to the Ashuran. Last he checked, the Fukami considered “white hair” to be the most beautiful. No. Could it be? Did Aichirou have an unorthodox black-hair fetish of some sort? For some reason, the mere conjecture made Takara increase the distance between them by a few millimeters. However, that slight movement proved to be a fatal mistake. For Aichirou, at least.

With their sharp senses, the priests noticed the slight movement that the Ashuran Prince had made. Needless to say, they were less than happy to spot the two attempting to cheat their way through the ceremony.

Takara soon found himself being pushed further back into the waterfall. Well, to say “pushed” would be an overstatement. At the firm but relatively subdued nudging, it would be more appropriate to use the term “urged.” Aichirou, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have been offered the same grace. Could it be due to his hair after all? How luc- Actually, no. No it wasn’t.

Whatever the case, none of that spared him from the harsh cold that continued to bite at his joints. If this kept up, he didn’t doubt that he’d lose functionality of one or two limbs, severely impairing his progress towards his goals. Who was the idiot who came up with this tradition anyway? Surely they must be laughing at their plight from somewhere in the underworld.

Takara’s cursing of his ancestors kept him distracted until the completion of the chanting. His gratitude at finally being released, however, was short lived. If he had to say, he was fairly adept at shrugging off injuries. Frozen joints and muscles, on the other hand, proved to be much more of a challenge. Forget walking as if nothing were wrong. It was difficult to even move forward at his usual pace. At the very least, the air was warm (a stark contrast to the frigid waters of the waterfall). He estimated that it would take just a few minutes for his body to regain its complete functionality. Unfortunately, this wasn’t soon enough.

Perhaps it was due to the cold having dulled both his reflexes and senses, but it wasn’t until he found himself near-face planted on the floor that Takara noticed the weight that had hit his back. A servant’s shouting of the white-haired prince’s surname soon answered his unasked question on the identity of his assailant.

Just barely managing to restrain the urge to kick Aichirou away, Takara “gently” rolled the man off of his back before standing up himself. A smile as frosty as the waterfall itself settled on the Ashuran Prince’s lips.

“I hope you will excuse my misconduct just then. Are you alright?” he asked while offering his hand. Though his words were polite, nothing hid his unexpressed rage. There was no need to.

Takara couldn’t recall the last time he had been shamed in such a way and in front of such an audience. Kneeling out of respect was one thing. Groveling or being forced to the floor was another altogether. He didn’t know it his values were simply skewed due to his childhood, but to him, there was probably no greater humiliation he had faced than just now. He wasn’t one to plot one’s demise for vengeance, but he didn’t mind starting now (though he’ll probably just forget about it eventually).

For now, he’d satisfy his anger by grasping the Fukami’s hand just a slight bit too hard. [/div] [/div] [/div]

#fukami aichirou

Aster

[/div] [/div]

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

The ceremony seemed to be just as boring in reality as it seemed on paper. It left her sighing quietly and to distract herself with subtly folding paper stars, turtles or cranes in her sleeves out of habit. They made good target practice for Ashuran children according to her mother. (Long story short, her mother got tired of her practically vibrating in place every time she got bored. Not to mention in worse cases of boredom, Hanami ended up absentmindedly shredding materials in her hands like an anxious wild animal. So her mother made her get into the habit of doing something productive...for once.)

Really, standing under a waterfall seems to be more mentally stressful than physically so.

It was only the distant splashing sounds and alarmed shouting that drew Hanami’s focus back to the base of the waterfall. The raven-haired woman tilted her head slightly at the sight. Not really paying attention to her sister-in-law only a few feet away, Hanami noted quietly to herself with a vaguely amused expression, “Fairly sure that’s supposed to be offensive… This might get interesting.”

“This is fine, I suppose.”

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Hanami
OBJECTIVE. Let’s go
MOOD. Bored to death. ANYTHING IS FINE
NOTES. Sorry for the short post. >=>;;;
TAGGED. Aster | Nano | Aster

 

[Aster]

• Fukami Post •​

If Aichirou thought standing under a waterfall was bad, falling on top of an Ashuran prince was ten times worse, especially when there were a group of religious numb nuts to witness. Fortunately, Takara had assisted him with a push---which would've been considered rough had Aichirou not been sturdy due to his size and build---and Aichirou got up to his feet with the help of a very tight hand. If his body wasn't so numb, he might have wondered if Ashurans always placed this much grip in their hands. Perhaps that's where the rumors of their brutish strength stemmed from.

"I'm fine." His answer was delayed and it was hard to tell how the Fukami male was feeling, given the blank expression on his face. Remembering his manners, he thanked Takara with a quiet abruptness. An attempt to smile was given (if one could count the slight twitch of his lips to be a smile), and the two princes were soon directed to their rooms to be changed from their wet clothes.

From thin white yukatas, the two were dressed in ceremonious black robes accompanied by a necklace of red beads and black feathers. The colors and the design of the robes seemed to be a tribute to the Ashuran's patron god, and it wasn't long until Aichirou and Takara were ushered into another secluded room for the priests to complete their prayers and chants.

The incense in that room stung Aichirou's eyes and he blinked a lot to keep them from smarting. When the ceremony was finally over, he was more than grateful than to be out of the room and free to roam until the next ceremony commences. To think that this was just one out of the many he still had to complete made him want to groan in dismay. He was already so done and over this.

Thinking about it only served to make him depressed and Aichirou had never been the kind of person to directly face his problems if he didn't have to, so the Fukami prince chose to shove all his grievances away and empty his mind with nothing but the colors of darkening sky. Dusk had already fallen. Daylight seemed so scarce in the North.

--------

After seeing Aichirou fall on top of her husband-to-be, Kisara made quick movement towards the Falls, stopping only once she overheard Hanami's unsettling comment when she walked by. The Fukami princess frowned, glancing back down as Takara aided Aichirou up. From the angle she was viewing them at, she could not have seen the strained look of ire on the Ashuran's face, nor even begin to suspect the offense the Fukami prince had caused from his carelessness. From her view, Takara was showing good view by helping her clumsy brother up and so, she shook off Hanami's words as nothing more than "strange murmurings".

Ashurans. She shook her head as she moved away.

--------

The Fukami princess was quite piqued when she learned that she could not visit her brother until the ceremonies were completely so she waited listlessly nearby until the two males finally emerged out from the doors. Her double take wasn't obvious but anyone who knew her well enough could tell that she was taken aback by the change of robes.

The black contrasted greatly against Aichirou's snow-white hair, and it would've done the same for Takara had his not been dyed the color of night. Something was off-putting, seeing her brother dressed in such garb. The colors were appealing and she had no charges against the design of robes but that did little to change the feeling of discomfort which lagged in her stomach. While Takara looked stunningly fine, as though the clothes were made for him, Aichirou was...

She couldn't put a finger on it. It was simply strange, especially when they were standing side by side, comparatively. It was like witnessing a cat barking or a dog meowing. And it wasn't as though Aichirou had never worn black and reds together. Maybe it was the feathers.

Whatever it was, Kisara chose to ignore it. She approached the two with a smile, casually asking how they were. Before they could fully answer however, the monks were already rushing her for the next ceremony and she was soon whisked away into a waiting room with Hanami. They too were forced to change and were asked to sit in quiet "meditation" until the second half of the arainaga ceremony could commence.

Her irritation was starting to grow. The stupid ceremonies were grating, but she swallowed it like a bitter pill and sat there in silence until the monks called on them.

Interactions: Takara Nano || Mentions: Hanami A Murder Of Corviknight || Mood: So Done​

 

[Quark]

Fukami Takehiko​

“Hm? What an unfamiliar road, are we heading there already?”

A white-haired Fukami commented to his companion, an attendant from the inner palace currently dressed more modestly, to appear just as one of many road travellers. Takehiko studied the valleys they had just left, his right hand using the fan to cool himself. The teenage boy, gave another look at the claimed Fukami prince, an adopted member in the inner royal family.

The attendant thought back to a few hours ago, when rescuers from the Fukami clan had found him locked in a basement, a hide out for the Orochi Occultists. Despite the cut he had on his left arm, Takehiko had given one look at the rescuers before doing his best to give an amused though rather tired smile. “Oh, you came. Looks like I still am useful after all.” [1]

… …
… …

As Aichirou and Takehiko secretly exchanged information secretly, the younger Fukami would have noticed the elder’s face stiffening a little.

“I see… this is troublesome. More than I thought.” Takehiko brought his hand up to hide his now lack of a smile. He had anticipated that the rituals would be cumbersome enough, and then devoting his attention to another person. However, this was…

Takehiko turned back to his younger brother, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, for the information and for posing in my stead. As expected of a Fukami from our family,” He commented back in a usual, casual tone. Though at the back of his mind, he wondered whether it was intentional that the Usagi had decided to not comment on the wrong person attending the initial meeting. “Your older brother will take it from here then. Oh, Aichirou, before you leave…”

From within his sleeve, he took out a folded piece of paper. “I recorded as much as I remember. I’ll trust you with it. Yoshirou as well…” He paused, as though about to enquire for something else, before simply shaking his head.

After the last few exchanges of goodbye, Takehiko pointed towards the east direction, where his escort from earlier was waiting. The latter would be able to tend to Aichirou’s needs as they would return to the palace in secret. Takehiko continued to smile and watch until his foster brother had left, before the light frown returned to his face.

Sneaking in and then making sure his behaviour was consistent as a Aichirou’s, was highly unlikely possible. He had doubts that the Ashura clan would risk sending a fool, or someone not as sharp. It was a matter of considering which would be worse, waiting to be caught or to simply confess about the matter. However, simply confessing that they had sent the wrong person at first would not be an option for his family.

This is really troublesome, he thought to himself, adjusting the black feathered haori despite the lack of wrinkles.

Damage control, damage control, eh, Takehiko thought as he headed towards the direction again. Pretending to have been lost, he asked a servant about directions where the other three were resting.

“Well, at least I didn’t have to stand under the waterfall,” Takehiko gave a quiet laugh. Being pounded by water falling from such a height… If he had just lost a moment of concentration, his neck could likely snap.

… …
… …

Making himself known, his eyes soon spotted his little sister. He gave a small nod of his head, then stepped in with the door sliding to a close behind him.

“Apologies about the disturbance just now.” His blue eyes were then studying the two from the Ashura clan. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?” He made sure to shift his eyes very slowly, for the three to see him glancing towards the attendants. His little sister, of course, would no doubt understand his hidden message. Sitting down with the others at the table, he gave another small nod of his head. As he picked up the chopsticks, without turning his head he studied the two Ashurans at the table.

Aichiriou had mentioned about the interesting change of the previously grey-haired Takara. However, black hair was something that Takehiko had been used to seeing, instead he found his eyes lingering just a second longer on the other’s clothing. Was it surprisingly light (in design) because of the black hair now?

He then shifted his gaze shortly towards the other Ashuran, Miu, he was informed. Was she related to Takara, just as Kisara and he were cousins? What were their relations in the Ashura clan. Though they were not answers he could find so soon in the meeting.

Those who are patient, will get the last laugh. As his father had taught him and Yoshirou.

The slightly tired look returned to his eyes as he took in a bit of the food. For now, enjoying dinner was just enough.

Notes
[1] He’s referring that he’s still of use to Fukami clan.

[2] He had just changed to a set of clothing exactly similar to Aichirou’s. Current items holding: a paper fan, omamori (for safety), some strips of paper (including a drawn portrait)

[3] Tagging: Aster | Nano | A Murder Of Corviknight

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] Fatigue set in to the very depths of his bones the moment Takara sat down at the dinner table. From raising children who fight bears^[1] to deciding that standing under waterfalls was good ceremonial practice, the Ashurans were truly insane. Then again, they were descended from a goddess who casually popped monsters like balloons and changed people’s hair colors as she liked. Of course they were insane. On that thought, the poisoned hairpin that Fukami Kisara had launched at the fish came to mind. He smiled wryly. If the Ashura were insane, the Fukami were dangerous.

⁠—but no warning signs could win over his pettiness.

A loud snap resounded throughout the room. His resentful gaze moved from the doorway where the newly arrived Takehiko^[2] stood to the now-broken chopsticks in Takara’s hand. As the Fukami Prince gave his greetings, the raven head coughed awkwardly while muttering some random excuse about weakened wood. The attendant adjacent to him raised a brow, but nonetheless went to fetch an extra pair of utensils without further comment.

Peridot eyes tinged with a trace of wariness lingered on the Fukami Prince’s figure for another three seconds until Takara finally gave up to focus on the food while it was still warm. Though the man had committed a first degree offense^[3], there was a time and a place for everything. It just wasn’t now. As much as his adoptive mother harshly scolded him for being a vindictive troublemaker, he wasn’t going to potentially spark a war over his own grievances. His own honor couldn’t live with that. At the very least, he’d wait until all of the ceremonies were over with. There was still the issue of his future spouse’s protectiveness of her sibling, but he’d figure something out.

With an expression that had mellowed out considerably, he turned to observe his cousin directly across from him. As per usual, she was unreadable in a very Miu-esque fashion. Unlike the pair of Fukami, Miu and he were neither too close nor too distant. Though there was a great enmity between her younger brother and him, Miu herself had nothing to do with Shu’s actions. Additionally, she was one of the few Ashura who weighed values with an unbiased eye. He therefore couldn’t help but give her a light warning.

“Keep an eye out during the last half of the arainaga ceremony,” he said carefully. Thinking that the warning appeared suspicious, he quickly added with a wry smile, “Maybe someone like your little brother might come crashing in again.”

It wasn't often that he personally brought up a topic concerning Shu, so hopefully she'd catch on? Thankfully, even if she didn't, Miu had instincts as sharp as a well-whetted knife, and her prowess in unarmed combat was admittedly leagues beyond his. If something did happen, she was already well-equipped to defend herself. Besides, he doubted any youkai of significance were still sticking around after Raiva’s intervention. It was simply that he couldn’t shake off the final words of that overgrown fish. Namely, the motsukana had mentioned “Orochi.” The books which dared mention that name described him as an entity who would curse the world to come to an end, but wasn’t it a mere fairy tale in the end? It was something that parents came up with to scare children into behaving, yet Raiva acted as if the name held some significance. Even if that weren’t the case, as long as someone or something believed that Orochi was real, there was no telling what such a cult would do to supposedly “revive” their “god.”

Well, no matter. Ashura Miu was someone who fought and ate mountain bears for breakfast. One or two assassins were nothing but a side dish.

- - -​

[1] Hanami/Miu.
[2] Sorry if I’m using the wrong name here. Just thought it’d be safe to assume that they used Takehiko’s name while Aichirou was taking his place.
[3] Referring to Aichirou tripping on top of Takara.
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Aster A Murder Of Corviknight Quark

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[A Murder Of Corviknight]

Just when Miu was about to get up to follow the monks to the waiting room with the Fukami Princess, what Takara said startled her out of her reverie enough to make her pause and sputter out a quiet short laugh that she immediately covered up with a cough. She was quick to make her expression as solemn as you would be at a family member’s death-bed as a monk rushed her to continue along her way. She gave her cousin a slight nod as she breezed past the two princes but still puzzled over his words as she was settled with Kisara for “meditation”.

Did it have something to do with his hair? Surely her cousin wouldn’t bring up the most recent faux pas of her brother in front of an audience without a purpose? As much as the two...disliked each other, Takara admittedly has much more tact than her brother and wouldn’t bring up something this sensitive in front of outsiders.

...Unless her brother really did piss Takara off that much. As they say, an Ashuran that wasn’t at least somewhat petty was a dead one.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the latter. Not out of concern for her younger brother, the boy could handle himself fairly well even if he was just a tad bit foolhardy (he hasn’t learned the phrase “take shit get hit” yet me thinks). No, she was just...itching to do something more than waiting for days.

She wasn’t even asking for a mythological legend to come and challenge her. Even a light walk (aka a hike in Miu terms) would be nice…

Thankfully she didn’t have to wait too long with her thoughts and the silence weighing in on the room. The monks soon came back to take them to Mizuha to start their half of the arainaga ceremony.

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Miu
OBJECTIVE. Finally moving to the pools next I think?
MOOD. itchy
NOTES. I have so much rust on my writing hands that it’s flaking off like dander
TAGGED. ???

 

[Aster]

interactions: Miu A Murder Of Corviknight Takehiko Quark Takara Nano
mentions: None
location: "Meditation room" > Mizuha
mood: On guard & curiosity

• Kisara ❀ Fukami •​

So, sitting in quiet meditation did not quite work out the way the Ashuran priests had expected; but then again, it was foolish to think that a Fukami and an Ashuran could sit together in a room doing absolutely nothing for over 3 hours. By the second hour, Kisara---who had grown tired of wasting anymore precious time---decided to gently coax Miu into having a meal with her before their cleansing ceremony. To her relief, the ravenhead had no objections. In fact, she seemed just about ready to leave as Kisara was.

This chain of events was exactly what led the four to be dining together, having a light meal before the final part of the aranaiga ceremony. While Kisara had wanted to have a private talk with Aichirou, just to double check whether he was alright after that fall beneath the Ido waterfalls, she noticed that her foster brother, Takehiko, had finally arrived on scene, successfully replacing Aichirou without (hopefully) anyone's notice. With him back, Kisara could relax more, trusting in Takehiko's abilities a tad more than Aichirou's. It wasn't as though Kisara wished the ill fate of having to marry an Ashuran on Takehiko. In fact, she would not have wanted to wish this on anyone. But if anyone could survive or handle being married to an Ashuran, it would be Take-nii.

Seeing how neither Miu nor Takara had any visible reactions to Takehiko's appearance, Kisara figured the switch had been successful. After all, Aichirou and Takehiko looked frightfully similar, the only difference being their eye colors.

The snap of Takara's chopsticks had her sighing internally. Ashurans and their brutish strength...

The four had very little exchange during their short meal, though Kisara had commented idly that Takehiko looked fitting in his new black haori, with Takehiko responding back in a not-so-modest question ("I look good, don't I?"). "Of course," Kisara had replied, a small smile hidden as she raised her tea cup for a sip. "You are my brother after all." The exchange between the two Fukami's spoke volumes of their close relations.

Unlike Miu who seemed to miss the meaning behind Takara's words, Kisara had picked up in understanding, quietly amused and yet confused, as to why Takara would liken his own flesh and blood to a yokai. Perhaps it was an Ashuran way of showing affection? Did Ashurans particularly liked being called a yokai? Such thoughts preceded her understanding.

Soon enough, it was time for her to go. The Ashuran priests seemed particularly flustered and troubled to find that the princesses had left their mediation room, albeit Kisara did her best to convince them that they had been mediating (by eating), and that their future spouses had came in to offer their prayers (and food, but that was left out). Being a Fukami, lying and persuasion came as naturally as breathing. Without much fuss, Miu and Kisara was brought towards the lake where they were asked to strip completely for the ceremony.

"Completely?" Kisara repeated with a faint dip between her brow. Surely they would be given a towel or something for modesty won't they? Unfortunately, the priests seemed adamant on this. No fabrics or external materials ought to touch the sacred pool. It was almost as though they were regarding the water within as holy.

With a sigh, Kisara subjected herself to complete vulnerability (even the pins in her hair had to be taken out) and she slipped into the pool with Miu. They had to bathe within the light of the full moon, which required the two to swim out a bit towards the center of the waterhole.

Such a stupid ceremony.

The water was freezing and it was dark out. Kisara did not understand how long she had to bathe here for or if she ought to be doing anything else. A little way off, the priests were chanting and sprinkling something that looked like salt? into the waterhole. Fortunately, all seemed well so far and Kisara did not sense any disturbance, but that did not mean she could afford to lower her guard. What bugged her though was how defenseless she felt. Without any clothes nor weapons, there was much hindering her from what she could do.

"At least I'm not the only one here," Kisara thought with little comfort. Her eyes had skimmed over Miu's strong and toned figure. Kisara had no idea Miu was packing such strength underneath those feminine clothes. She was almost envious at how built the Ashuran was, her body a balance between muscle and femininity, grace and power. While it wasn't like Kisara was weak, she seemed much more willowy and slender than Miu was.

"So Miu... since we're out here just waiting anyways, why don't we get to know each other more? What do you think of Takehiko?" Kisara asked, striking up a conversation before she could have silly thoughts of envying an Ashuran.

 

[Quark]

.

Takehiko | 武彦

Takehiko gave a brief but friendly wave as he saw Kisara and Miu exit the room, wishing his little sister good luck.

As the servants had gathered up the finished dishes, he allowed himself to contemplate on how to pass the time with the Ashuran prince. Soon an attendant came in and placed a tea set with accompanied snacks. At that moment, Takehiko politely interjected that he’ll serve the tea himself. [1] “Instead, please tell the Ashuran priests at the ceremony to be on extra alert. I’ve been hearing several stories of yokai appearing [2], and I’m sure that my worried brother-in-law would appreciate extra security as well for his cousin.”, he said, piggy-backing off Takara’s “be-careful” remark earlier as an extra layer of precaution. Even if the attendants here weren’t willing to listen to him, they could not disregard any of Takara’s concern.

As the door slid shut softly, Takehiko began pouring tea for the two of them.

“Well then, if you are not occupied for the moment, honoured brother-in-law, “ he said, as he gestured to Takara’s cup before picking up his own. “would you like to accompany me for a while?”

Enjoying the first sip of the tea, the aroma in the air was very soothing. Now would perhaps be the perfect time to “test” his brother-in-law a little, and to clarify a particular question he had after speaking with Aichirou.

“Though… “he suddenly changed to a more apologetic tone, but his face definitely seemed more lightly amused instead. “I’m afraid I’m not great entertainment for small talk over tea, compared to my little sister. Instead, how about a game?”

“A simple game of exchanging question for question, what do you think? If you would be happy to start by asking me a question, I’ll answer, and then ask a question of my own. After you answer we repeat, until one of us does not or cannot answer. “ He explained, putting down his tea while glancing over towards the refreshments on the side of the table. “A rather relaxing game, with no loser nor winner, no?” [3]


Notes
[1] Takehiko implying that he’ll serve the tea as a gesture of friendliness and courtesy. Takara is free to guess how sincere he actually is though.

[2] I don’t know if Takehiko would have heard any sightings of yokai while coming over, but he’s under the assumption that the other candidates in the Ashura-Fukami marriage might also be in danger of being kidnapped by the occultists. (I don’t think he knows the details about what happened with Shun though, even if Aichirou briefly told him about it)

[3] If Takara understands the other implied meaning here, Takehiko is saying that this is a window of opportunity for the Ashuran to ask him whatever he wants, including a challenge of “If you are curious why the “Takehiko” during dinnertime is acting strange, now would be the perfect time to ask.”

[4] Tag: Takara Nano , Kisara Aster , Miu A Murder Of Corviknight

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] ⁠For a brief moment, Takara’s eyes flashed with an indignant glint. Having the adjective “worried” attached to his name aside, it didn’t sit well with him that the Fukami Prince seemed aware of the situation with the youkai. As far as he knew, Kisara and he were the only two at the lake that night. Though they had taken care to report the situation with haste, he doubted an Ashuran would have been willing to freely disclose an issue that had occurred on Ashuran soil to a Fukami, regardless of status. Thus, he could only assume that Takehiko had been filled in by Kisara herself. As for how much she told him, he could only dread. If his defeat was spread, blessing or no blessing, he’d certainly be met with a myriad of troubles the moment he returned home.

Nevertheless, he responded to the Fukami Prince’s invitation to a chat over tea with a strained smile. “I would be most honored to.”

Accepting the offered cup, Takara took a quick whiff of the piping hot liquid. Unexpectedly, the steam that wafted up to his nose smelled quite, well, ordinary.

Of course. What noble is bold enough to poison someone in such an obvious manner? The ravenhead promptly scolded himself. This wasn’t back home where people were out for him, or rather, it would have been impossible for him to detect whether or not his tea had been tampered with. As much as he prided himself in his sharp senses, it wasn’t like he’d ever smelled poison before. That is, if poison even had an odour.^[1]

Appearing as if he were simply admiring the aroma of the tea, Takara covered his slip-up with a graceful—at least by Ashuran standards—sip. Still, his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as he trained his gaze on the Fukami Prince. He knew that the Fukami were excellent actors if need be, but he couldn’t put his finger on why he felt so perturbed. Why did the man who had acted so distant prior to dinner suddenly felt the need to pry into his matters? With a simple shift to using phrases such as “honoured brother-in-law” and going as far as to suggest a “game”, it was as if the entire ambience of the man had changed.

His motives for doing so were beyond him, but it didn’t take much for him to realize that the man had inquiries and was willing to trade information for the sake of his goal. Unfortunately—or fortunately—Takara wasn’t a particularly high-ranking individual from his clan. He possessed neither personal secrets nor confidential information about his clan. Though he did not have much to gain from the deal, there wasn’t much for him to lose either.

“What a coincidence,” he replied, “I had feared that I was the only one troubled by such matters.”^[2]

Takara tapped his finger thrice upon the side of his teacup both to relieve tension and indicate that he was thinking. Finally he spoke without further hesitation. “Then, shall we get right to the point? Between now and the waterfall, at which point were you acting?”

Admittedly, the fact that this was likely the question that the Fukami most anticipated him asking left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet as much as he disliked being manipulated, there wasn’t much logic behind beating around the bush like how the Fukami do. At the same time, he suspected that the prince wasn’t likely to give a straight answer for his every inquiry. As a result, poking at the more sensitive matters first allowed him to gauge what level of word plays he’d be forced to decipher. Of course, being given straight answers was preferred, regardless.

- - -​

[1] Takara never had to worry about being poisoned since the Ashura would rather duke it out with a brawl rather than using “underhanded” methods like poison. As a result, he never bothered to learn how to detect poisons in spite of all the grudges of others that he’s cultivated over the years.
[2] Just in case it wasn’t clear, he’s referring to how he’s not always the best conversation partner in these kinds of situations.
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Quark

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[Quark]

.

Takehiko | 武彦

His eyes lingered on the snacks, enjoying the colour of the refreshments before turning to Prince Takara. From the start of when the attendants had left till now, it appeared that Takehiko didn’t notice at all the indignant look, or the subtle eyes of suspicion. Maintaining that rather relaxed pose, his eyes had mild confusion before returning to a light smile of realization at Takara’s question.

An act…? Ah… I see. Well, it’s not the first time….

“You have my gratitude to wait and ask that now, honoured brother-in-law. I have been worried of uninvited or unwanted people knowing…[1]” He answered as he placed down the tea cup, while looking at straight Takara in the eyes. Unlike Aichiro’s gold, it was a crystal-like blue. “To answer your question, neither my little brother and I were acting.”

“I should thank you for accompanying my brother Aichirou, until I had arrived just about an hour ago,” he began explaining, while slowly folding back his right arm’s sleeve. “Originally, I was the one to arrive to Tengoku Temple with my little sister to meet Princess Miu… unfortunately I had encountered… hm…. evidently troublesome people?” While explaining with an everyday casual tone, he lifted his arm. On the dominant right arm that he used to pour tea earlier, evidently fresh bandages were wounded below the wrist, and a little further lower was the bruise with the outlines of a bruise in the pattern of a hand print. No doubt it wasn't a serious injury, but was not one that a royal Fukami could get in any well-maintained palace.

“As you may have guessed, I had ended up somewhere unknown, and it had taken some time for me to get the help I needed to get here….” His face twisted to a smile again, though this time there was no amusement or curiosity in his eyes in the pause that followed in the room. [2]

“Please do excuse my late formal introduction… My name is Fukami, Takehiko. You’re welcome to verify this with any other royal member in the Fukami clan, I am a mere orphan fortunate enough to be adopted into the royal family head in the Fukami Clan. Thus, while I am a prince, I am not in the line of succession.”, he said while smoothing his right sleeve to hide the light wound again. “In the equivalent Ashuran hierarchy, you would be the one of a higher position. Therefore, please feel free to just call my given name without any titles, honoured brother-in-law.”

Would he be disappointed? That this was the true Fukami Takehiko. Behind the cup he was sipping from, Takehiko felt his lips curling back to the usual relaxed manner.

“I hope that had answered your question. I trust your decision to inform Princess Miu, though I do owe her an apology myself regarding the unexpected trouble. [3]” Ending the polite answer, he returned to their current “game” with a more cheerful and expectant tone. “I suppose I’ll start my turn then. Hm, what are some good and important questions to ask Kisara’s fiancé…. Ah, let’s see… Tell me about the training or lessons you’ve taken since you were a child?”

A standard question to ask of your family’s spouse, though normally it’d probably be the father asking this at a betrothal discussion.

But both Mother and Father[4] are not here. So for now, let me….



Notes

[1] As of this moment, he is considering the possibility someone being an imposter or spy, who may alert the occultists that Aichirou and Takehiko had been swapped.

[2] I wasn’t sure the best way to write in the pause, but it’s more of a window of time for in case Takara needs to react towards that kind of answer. But probably let’s just say Takehiko needed to pause to catch his breath since he does speak quite a bit in this post?

[3] He means that he will be explaining the situation personally to Miu later. Takehiko considers that it’s probably not proper to not be transparent to one’s fiancé, and wants to make sure Takara doesn’t misunderstand about him keeping it discreet from the attendants.

[4] Formal term “Mother” and “Father” for Kisara and Aichiro’s biological parents. Though it would be simply “Mum” for his and Yoshirou’s biological mother.



[5] Tag: Takara Nano , Kisara Aster , Miu A Murder Of Corviknight

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

Unlike Kisara, Miu barely batted an eye when the priests asked them to strip for the ceremony, as she knew they would ask for them to for arainaga. Though, maybe she should have warned the Fukami princess about the custom but she had honestly forgotten that the other woman might have not known about the finer details of araginaga.

'Ah...oh well, it's too late now,' Miu mused to herself.

So, the Ashuran princess obediently stripped down before handing off her clothing, her weights and the minimal armor that she had on to a nearby priest. Ignoring the priest that nearly fell over due to the weight of her possessions, she slipped into the pool along with Kisara and moved to the center of the waterhole. She subtly watched the younger woman as they waded to the center of the waterhole to make sure she wouldn't slip or injure herself. She did hear that Fukami were more physically delicate than those of her own family, afterall. Not to mention, Miu secretly thought as she looked over Kisara from head to toe. The Fukami princess was so tiny under her clothes. No build and so skinny. Did they just starve their children? Even young string bean Ashuran children like her brother had some definition of young muscle...

Satisfied on making sure that Kisara wouldn't fall over and die under her watch (whether due to physical injuries or severely damaged pride), Miu quietly turned to look at the moon that was watching over them while turning the idle thoughts in her head. Or maybe it was concern? Admittedly, it was strange to think about as she never really...cared for much outside of her own family before?

Before she could dwell on it any longer, she was startled out of her own thoughts by Kisara's question. Her hair annoyingly logged down by water shwished behind her like a long black tail as she turned. Flicking a rebellious wet lock behind her with a wet plop, she turned towards Kisara to give her proper eye-contact, not realizing the lighting made her eyes give off an unnerving red glare instead of her soft red-orange hues. As for her thoughts on Takehiko...

Well, she couldn't exactly call her fiance weird to his sister's face could she? She likes to think that she definitely has more tact than her brash younger brother.

"Takehiko-san...seems like a good person," she started with after carefully feeling for the right words to say to her future sister-in-law. She hoped it didn't sound like a question like it did in her head."You two seem like you get along as well as I do with my younger brother."

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Miu
OBJECTIVE. Get through this convo without insulting the Fukami unintentionally
MOOD. Worried, deeply concerned about her future sister-in-law’s noodliness, clueless
NOTES. Yes, it’s confirmed that Miu has a six-pack
TAGGED. Aster | Nano | Quark

 

[Nano]

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[div class=header] ashura takara;

[div class=subheader] convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies [/div] [/div] [div class=basicsR] [div class=box] ⁠When Takehiko's gaze purposefully bore straight into Takara's eyes, the Ashuran tensed. The meaning behind that stare was different from the arrogant manner in which his clan challenged others, but he was nevertheless filled with a sense of unease—as if those clear, blue eyes were a testament to some revelation completely divergent from his own conclusions. His thoughts briefly moved towards the offhand remark that the Fukami Clan appeared to share a rude hobby of staring, yet the white-haired man's reference to a "little brother" drove home just what had been bothering him: had the man before him always have blue eyes? That is, the more important question was, why had the Fukami Clan resorted to such deceit? Were they truly so willing to offend the Ashura Clan? No, a god?^[1]

Takara had no sooner ruminated on that thought than Takehiko’s explanation for Aichirou’s appearance. His verdant eyes constricted as they focused on the Fukami’s display of the evidence to back his words. In fact, the man had no need to prove his words to the ravenhead. Whilst the two shared neither a bond nor trust, the Motsukana’s words and Shu’s trespass were proof enough that there were many willing to sabotage their respective marriages for one reason or another. Additionally, the Fukami were rumored to be opportunistic liars. Given that the Usagi had not mentioned a word about the swap, there were likely few and far between amongst the Ashura who would have noticed had Takehiko capitalized on Takara’s misunderstanding. They were, after all, the sort who would make the same mistake even if the two individuals were only sixty percent similar, granted the pair was not Ashuran. Perhaps the Fukami were more attentive to such details, but his clan was not the type to differentiate between stray dogs of similar coats.^[2]

Amidst the silence following Takehiko’s account of his difficulties, Takara made no immediate move to speak, his mouth creased firmly into a taut frown. He had no conflict with the man before him, as the misunderstanding was due to a lack of his own vigilance. However, his expression soured as a sole thought crossed his mind:

He dared to humiliate an Ashura and run away. Commendable, truly.

“In that case, I hope you send your brother my regards and well wishes on his journey back,” he finally said hollowly, as if he were troubled by the aforementioned “troublesome people” rather than his petty grudges.

However, he immediately straightened up at the man’s official introduction, in turn offering one of his own. “Though you are already aware of this fact, I am Ashura Takara. Belated as this is, it’s a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, and I offer my condolences for your troubles.”

“I…” Takara paused, and his eyes trailed back down towards the teacup in his hands. Currently, a man with seemingly similar circumstances sat right across from him. Yet something continued to fill him with a sense of unease.

Something is different, he thought.

Was it because he was a Fukami? Was it his relaxed mein? Or was it his carefree manner of speaking of his status? Whatever the case, Takara’s throat constricted at the thought of divulging the private information of his status and home life as openly as the Fukami Prince had.

“‘Honoured brother-in-law’ is too stuffy for the likes of me. In exchange for calling your name devoid of titles, feel free to refer to mine without any pretenses,” Takara explained in a casual manner, though his expression darkened a hair as he couldn’t help but sarcastically think to himself, being addressed by name is already an honor…

Takara’s mood failed to improve by the time Takehiko threw a question of his own his way. Rather, a familiar bitterness was wrenched forward by the announced topic. It was as if the man had a penchant for asking casual and ordinary questions that just so happened to be a minefield for the Ashuran Prince. The worst part was, he was obligated to answer it.

“I don’t suppose our routine is particularly interesting,” he said with a hint of a strained tone. His grip on the teacup unconsciously tightened, though fortunately not enough to break it. Nevertheless, he recalled the typical repertoire of the average Ashuran child and continued. “A vast majority of the basics from reading to hunting are the responsibility of the child’s parents, but children are assigned to formal teachers for martial arts training once they come of age.”

“But I...err...you could say I was a bit of a problem child,” Takara said while touching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Both Miu-san and I were, in fact. She never controlled her strength and always broke her training weapons while my preferred style is largely unpopular amongst my clan. To the Ashura, if the problem is a boulder, the answer is to crush it with brute force. I, on the other hand, would consider worthless questions such as ‘what’s the swiftest way to cut every piece congruently?’ and ‘at what angle must I strike to best bring out the beauty of my sword?’ Quite evidently, no one wished to take in such a wayward disciple, be it when I was five or fifteen years of age.”

Suddenly realizing that he was, perhaps, off topic, Takara awkwardly coughed once. “Apologies for the tangent. In any case, my…” When he found himself trailing off once again, the Ashuran frowned slightly. “My mother was the same, influencing my decisions. However, she was the harsh sort who believed that knowledge was only for those who are worthy. It didn’t matter if you were a mere five-year-old. If you wished to hold even just a wooden sword, you first had to successfully run around the entire Ashura Manor five laps^[3] without breaks. Even then, it was two years of basic swings with a training sword and running up and down the mountain. To receive a proper sword, perfect the basic forms. To challenge a peer, you must first challenge a mountain bear.” Reminiscing about that particular memory, Takara’s elbows ached. An adult fighting a bear was one thing, but he really couldn’t tell what Ashura Nozomi was thinking when she sent a mere child on the task. Rather, what was it with the Ashura and their obsession with fighting bears?

“If you wish to know about things other than swordsmanship training, there isn’t much to say other than various types of wilderness survival training,” he sighed, “The elders loved to withhold permission for the smallest of things, so there wasn’t much to do around the manor.^[4] Be it the kitchen, vegetable fields, or the forge, there were a lot of things considered off limits. At the very least, there were books to read whenever it wasn’t time to train, though some contained strange topics such as the best way to cook bear meat.”

A disheartened laugh followed that statement. Out of curiosity, he had once dared to try out said book’s recipes. Perhaps due to the lack of proper ingredients and his manner of cooking over a campfire due to being unable to obtain permission to use a kitchen, the dish had been disgustingly fishy and tough. As a result, he had promptly passed the book on to more capable hands, though a certain roach had once again thrown a fit about approaching his dearest sister as a result.

Takara wore a slightly amused smile as he reminisced about the roach’s impulsive hostility as well as his little rebellion from the previous day. The things siblings sometimes did for each other was definitely on the front page of his mental book of weird. That said, his thoughts had aided in forming his next inquiry: “If that answer was not sufficient, feel free to ask for any clarifications. As for my next question...I happen to be an only child, so I’ve always wondered, what was it like to grow up with younger siblings?”

- - -​

[1] The Usagi
[2] Takara’s logic is that an Ashura comparing Fukami Clan members is like a person comparing dogs. If the dogs aren’t yours and they have the same fur color, pattern, and general body shape, you aren’t likely to pay such close attention to them that you’ll notice that they were switched.
[3] I’m not entirely sure of the size of their house, so I put a random number that I felt was significant but still feasible assuming you kept at it like your life depended on it.
[4] Takara purposefully says this in an ambiguous manner, so this can be interpreted as him either being very sheltered or shunned. Also, if Takehiko is sharp enough to pick up on it, he’s free to speculate on why Takara specifically mentions only the manor and not their territory outside.
[5] Changed main img bc Birb kept bugging :v
[/div] [/div] [/div]

Quark

[/div] [/div]

 

[Aster]

interactions: Miu A Murder Of Corviknight
mentions: Takehiko Quark Takara Nano
location: Mizuha
mood: Curious and pettily disturbed

• Kisara ❀ Fukami •​

When it came to the Fukami, the usage of words was a walking paradox. At times taken too seriously, resulting in spiteful jabs spoken behind sweet smiles; while other words are spoken with weight as light as a fleeting spring petal. Context meant everything and there was much more dialogue in the unspoken than the spoken.

Perhaps Kisara read too much into things. Surely Miu meant no offense in meeting her own gaze. After all, Miu held a similar status to her, despite being of Ashuran blood*. The clear red glare was unsettling, reminding Kisara of the bedtime stories told on the Ashurans. She stared back head on, unwavering.

Her fondness for her brother, however adopted he may be, created an undisguised veil of bias. Seems? Kisara bristles internally behind a smile she pulls upon her face. "Takehiko is a good person," she says simply in correction, unable to hold back. The words were uttered in light casual grace, but there is an edge in her voice which warns Miu against saying otherwise.

There were a good deal of females back in her clan who would throw themselves at her brothers' feet. Whether it was their attention or the promise of an elevated status they were after, they would fight and scheme, going to the extent of attempted murder should things get serious, all to vie for her brother's affection. Takehiko had no shortage of admirers. It was a shame Miu did not see just how lucky she was to be paired with a man such as her brother. Sooner or later, she'd see. Or so Kisara hoped.

Needing to take her mind off their conversation, Kisara cupped up some of the crystalline clear water with her palms and rinsed her face with it. The biting, cold water reminded her just where she was. It would not be wise to pick a fight over such a petty comment.

"You have a younger brother?" Kisara asked, her smile turning more genuine as she forced her mind on more positive things. If Miu was to really become Takehiko's wife, she should at least make some effort to befriend her. "I don't suppose it's Takara," Kisara guessed, based on their appearances. Not only was Takara's coloring completely different, but they shared no resemblances in their visage, save for their eyes.

"What is your brother like? Do Ashurans normally not get along with their siblings?" Her questions conveyed her genuine curiosity. Her ignorance of Ashurans could hopefully excuse her from creating any offense towards Miu*.

[1] In the Fukami clan, it is rude to make direct eye contact with the royal family if you come from a lower status. Unless the Fukami royal initiates first, prolonged eye contact is made with discretion.
[2] Referring to her second question. Based on observation on Miu and Takara's interactions, Kisara assumes familial relations are formal.

 

[Quark]

.

Takehiko | 武彦

“… too stuffy for the likes of me. In exchange…”

Takehiko’s eyebrow rose in mild confusion at Takara’s wording in his request. A sinking thought flashed through his mind, but he merely nodded in response to Takara. It is still too early for predictions, he reminded himself. “I understand. Very well then, Takara-kun.”

As Takara answered in a clear disheartened look on his face, the Fukami prince made no effort to stop him from speaking. Instead, Takehiko nodded every now and then in acknowledgement. While it was the format of a casual chat, in a test he wasn’t obliged to ease the atmosphere if the other didn’t ask.

Hearing how strict the training was, confirmed even more of his dad’s had once said about Ashuran’s diligence in honing their combat skills.

“I see. I’ve heard about how training for Ashuran children here and there, but hearing from you really does show how different it is for Fukami children.” He analysed, mind straying for a moment. “Well, I suppose it all depends on what’s required. I can see how survival training would be important in Eastern Kai. [1] Thank you for answering, “, he said, despite finding the answer’s format a little odd. [2] “Sounds like you’ve been given many high expectations and had to work hard in a lot of areas, Takara-kun.”

… …

Takehiko held out his hand for the other to pass over his cup to refill his tea. He had placed down the tea pot just as it was the start of the other’s turn to ask a question.

“Hm… what an unexpected question.” He started, genuinely showing surprise of the question, then his eyes softened to warm joy before being replaced by a glint of pride. “Ah, right, right, you’ve probably seen how adorable Kisara and Aichirou both are. Anyone would be curious, of course, of course!”

He nodded at his conclusion in a satisfied manner, as though he was lost in his own thoughts.

“Hmm, where to start…” He pondered.” My biological brother, Yoshirou, and I were adopted when we were children, so you could say that we grew up together with Kisara and Aichirou. As you know with a lot of families in royalty, parents tend to be a bit busy.”

“Since we have small age differences, we’ve spent a lot of time playing and studying together. Since I’m the eldest, it’s my duty to worry about my siblings and spoil them. And in return, I get the privilege of being told I’m a good elder brother.” He explained. “Of course, my little brothers and sister are all hard-working and kind, so I never had much to worry about watching them grow…. except when one of them wants to hide secrets. A bit cute and naïve of them, of course I’d eventually find out if my younger brothers and sister are in trouble.”

He stifled a laugh, thinking about the time when Yoshirou so proudly told him he had finally beaten a second cousin at training. Takehiko had found out himself about they were not getting along much earlier than when Yoshirou finally told him how he retaliated back.

“We had a lot of fun travelling together as well, like when we visited San’s temples. Yoshirou always loved discovering new places so he’d show me the maps he’d marked. It was also good for me to browse local stores for books and souvenirs. I’m not that knowledgeable about female fashion but taking time in choosing a hair accessory for Kisara really makes one happy. “

“Back at home, Kisara and Aichirou would make time to come visit us to play. [2] They’re both very considerate, as you’ve probably seen. Enjoying tea with family is always relaxing. We tend to play a lot of games or tell stories or just chat over tea.” He chuckled. “Overall, there’s a lot of silly moments, but I’m very fond of them.”

They were priceless memories, but they were worth all the troubles we’ve had thus far.

He wouldn’t need to ask his younger siblings, but he knows that they would feel the same. Leaving behind the recollection of the nostalgic childhood, he turned back to Takara.

“While we’re on the note of family... Including your mother, tell me a bit of your close family and affiliates?” he asked. Family had an important influence on a person’s character, therefore another evaluation point for Kisara’s fiancé. Perhaps he should also come up with an additional excuse, for good measure.

“You probably already know this,” he continued. ”but for tea giving ceremony we’d be serving tea to each other’s family elders. It’d be rude of me not to formally greet my brother-in-law’s family.”



Notes

[1] He’s referring to the geography.

[2] Refers to how Takehiko probably would have answered the same question a little differently, especially in a conversation of trying to gauge/probe the other person. I would say the way that Takara so openly referred to himself as a “wayward disciple” isn’t exactly something he would say.

[3] Aichirou and Kisara lived at different residence from Takehiko and Yoshirou.

[4] Tag: Takara Nano , Kisara Aster , Miu A Murder Of Corviknight

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

“...Was that not what I said?” the Ashuran woman replied in confusion. Don’t most people take the compliment with happiness when it’s about their family member?

Puzzled at Kisara’s reply that sounded vaguely offended, Miu looked over at the other woman again just to make sure there was no water in her ears. Maybe Fukami were just that bad at hearing?

But then again, there was also that rumor that a Fukami can hear gossip from the other side of a village...

Thankfully, before her thoughts could derail any further, Kisara pulled her back to reality. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her expression turned mildly disappointed as she answered, “Ah, yes and no. Ashura Takara...we’re not. It would be impossible for us to be siblings, unfortunately.”

Which was a shame. Shu and Takara-kun get along like a catastrophic house on fire due to her brother’s personality but a great motivator for her brother. All the good qualities a good training partner should have honestly.

“My little brother and I are close. Not all Ashuran siblings are as sticky as him, thankfully, she blinked up at the moon thoughtfully, trying to think of how to describe Shu nicely. “He’s strong but rash and mischievous. I am still hoping that he will eventually grow out of it.”

She mindfully didn’t mention that they’ve already seen Shu before but the smile that appeared on her face as she talked about her brother was still fond. He definitely should brush up those lessons on his common sense but he was still her brother. A part of her still wanted to teach her disobedient brother a lesson but it wasn’t the time or place to air out her brother’s “dirty laundry”. Plus, Shu always seemed to remember her warnings and lessons more when she personally handled him. Only the gods know what goes on in that boy’s head to only listen when she dishes out the discipline.[1] Honestly, it was a terrible habit.

Shu was...to put it bluntly, awfully dependent for an Ashuran his age.

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Miu
OBJECTIVE. try not to slander the name of your reckless bro
MOOD. amused
NOTES. [1] It’s because Miu unintentionally always puts the fear of gods into Shu’s very soul and body
TAGGED. Aster | Nano | Quark

 

[Aster]

interactions: Miu A Murder Of Corviknight
mentions: Takehiko Quark Takara Nano
location: Mizuha
mood: Neutral

• Kisara ❀ Fukami •​

She takes in the little Miu shares, catching the unspoken words in her eyes and gestures. The genuine disappointment for Takara, the affection and concern for her brother. None of it goes unnoticed by the Fukami princess and Kisara idly wonders just how old Miu's brother might be. Perhaps he could be a good ally, if not leverage should Miu ever step out of line in her treatment of Takehiko.

"I'm sure he'll grow out of it eventually," Kisara says in empty comfort as the priests change their chanting to something else. The ringing of multiple bells catches her attention and her lips twitch just a fraction of a frown when the priests motion for them to come over. Do all Ashurans regard nudity this casually? This was another question she was tempted to ask.

It was little comfort to know that the Ashuran priests conducting the ceremony were wearing masks that restricted most of their vision. Kisara found it more bothersome that she couldn't see their eyes however. A lot could be said about someone's eyes. The crow-like masks, though pretty and sleek in design, made her uneasy. She could barely tell the gender of the priests by sight alone. Their clothes and figure made them indistinguishable.

It shamed her to think that so many other people*, aside from her maids, would see her like this before her husband. Not that she believed Takara would be a man to care about such trivialities but because she felt she ought to be the best he deserved.

"Ah well," she thought to herself in idle comfort as the priests touched both her shoulders with their bell-like instrument. "If there's anything to blame, then they ought to blame their stupid ceremony."

Patiently, she waited for the priests to complete whatever it was they had to do. To the Ashuran's the ceremony likely has a great deal of significance but as someone brought up with little knowledge (and little time) to read up on the meaning and history behind the wedding ceremony, to Kisara, she was merely following through the actions of this meaningless ritual.

A few more things were done. A vow was said aloud in the presence of the priests and confirmed with her signature (again, why does she have to do this nude?)* After a bow, the articles were taken away and the priests asked the two to wait once more as they finished up the ceremony.

Kisara sighed internally to herself and as she was about to wade back towards the center of the lake, something small darted in her peripherals. Something... like a very small child?

She blinked and saw nothing. Maybe it was a trick of the light.

"So Miu, where were we in our conv---"

Before she could continue, a sharp pain struck through her entire body and the emptiness she felt was so sudden and abrupt, it was almost as though her soul was forcibly ripped from her. In a strangled cry, she doubled over---too caught up in her pain* to realize that Miu was experiencing the same exact thing. Despite having a formidable pain tolerance, Kisara doubled over and would've drowned if not for the lake's shallow depth.

Still, that didn't stop her from falling over into the water and re-emerging as someone other than herself.

The pain which lasted only seconds (but felt like long minutes) gradually subsided and Kisara could feel her lungs expand for air as she looked over at...

Herself.

Red eyes widened as she fell backwards in splash, her face paling. "You--! What is this sorcery?!" Kisara couldn't help herself as she whirled to see the priests' confused and frantic as well. They never expected the royals to collapse in suddenly and it was improper for them to stop the ceremony halfway, let alone help* even if they were drowning. But seeing how they looked fine now, the priests only peered worriedly to see if they were fine.

She glared, despite herself, as she quickly regain her composure in Miu's toned body. It wasn't like a Fukami to lose their composure so simply but this was no ordinary matter.

[1] She means outsiders in this line. Her personal maids are considered her own.
[2] It's done nude to represent the vulnerability of the bride entrusting her entire body as pure and set aside for her husband only
[3] The pain is excruciating for both parties, irregardless of their pain tolerance levels.
[4] Because they were naked and royalty

 

[A Murder Of Corviknight]

Perhaps it was the hunger speaking but as Miu was heading back to the middle of the pool with Kisara she saw a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. An animal? A small child? Maybe even a nice fat fish that jumped out of the water. However, before the woman could fully turn to see what it was, sudden and sharp pain caused her to fall over into the water with a startled hiss of pain.

Once the pain subsided, Miu was quick to pull herself back out of the water with murder (or maybe just hunger for a fight) in her eyes. It was rare that someone actually managed to get such a crippling hit on her. Surely, the attack was a challenge.

However, as she absentmindedly catalogued herself for injuries, she quickly realized that she, or at least her hands, seemed...to have gotten smaller? And so smooth? Did the Usagi curse her and deage her for her brother’s crime? No, these hands were too large for a child’s hands. And--...

Miu became even more puzzled when what looked like Kisara’s hair slid into view in front of her face. What--

"You--! What is this sorcery?!"

At the disturbingly familiar but outraged cry and the sound of more splashing, Miu looked up. Instead of answers, though, she only gained more questions when she saw an Ashuran, herself, instead of the Fukami she was expecting.

‘...Ah. Maybe I hit my head on the way down.’

Quickly, hoping she was wrong, Miu looked down into the water to see who would look back. …Only to see the vague but still recognizable reflection of Fukami Kisara’s face looking back. The face staring back at her looked as bewildered as she felt.

Something about seeing someone else’s face in what should be your reflection was deeply unsettling to Miu. With an unfamiliar uncertainty, Miu made eye contact with...who she hoped was Kisara in her body.[1] She honestly doesn’t know what she would do if it was…

Golden eyes glanced at the priests with (ironically) suspicious eyes before glancing back down at familiar red eyes. This…

Miu mentally shook her head before helping the familiar stranger in her body up. She hoped it was a mutual and simple swap.

“Maybe if we kill whatever did this we can reverse it...” Miu absentmindedly mutters while looking around with her eyes for anything out of place.

------------------​

NAME. Ashura Miu
OBJECTIVE. 1. Who is in my body? 2. Why am I in Kisara’s body? 3. Who do I need to beat up to reverse this disaster?
MOOD. what the fuck is going on
NOTES. [1] She’d ironically rather Kisara than a priest. At least a Fukami likely wouldn’t try to stay in an Ashuran’s body LOL
Also, forget blessed pool. This pool is cursed already. 8D
TAGGED. Aster | Nano | Quark