Eiji and Katsue (Harpy) are alone in a VIP viewing room. Screens are set around the room out round moon windows: right now, the 'window' screens are displaying different video angles of an ongoing fight between a man with a sword and a woman with a pair of metal fans. Eiji pours a drink for Katsue, the bottle prominently displayed nearby with a very expensive label.
"Are you going to drink with me?" Katsue watches one of the screens, but not very attentively, eyes meandering from the screen to Eiji's face as she brings the sake cup to her lips. There's a large swath of white gauze peeking out from under the collar of her clothes, looking as though it might be spread over her entire shoulder, but the movement of her arm doesn't seem any shakier or at all impeded.
"I would never decline a request from my betters, Katsue-kun." Eiji smiles at her as he puts the decanter back down beside the bottle, and takes his seat nearby hers.
"Eiji-san is always so courteous." There's a thinness to her smile, even though she doesn't seem or sound mad at him, exactly. Her eyes go back to the fight, but - "Ah, it's over." It's not actually over. The fight is still going.
He glances up and over at a screen as well. "We had him 9-2," he offers.
Even though those are terrible odds, Katsue answers, "Ehhh, that's generous. Did he do better in sparring tournaments? He's too weak mentally."
Eiji laughs, his eyebrows raised above his glasses. "I'll be sure to give your feedback to the book-maker. The competitor didn't do very well by the standards expected of his family name, you see."
"Involving myself with gambling is a bit..."
"I wouldn't be nearly so forward as to use your name without permission, of course. An anonymous tip, from an aficionado."
Katsue laughs. "It isn't really about how it looks, but aren't I close enough with Eiji-san that the source would be an obvious guess anyway?"
He hums and then shrugs. "I suppose that's true. There's no helping it then. I'll have the man fired for his poor assessment."
"It's fine either way. But I guess it matters more to Eiji-san than it does to me if the numbers are right or not. Hey, Eiji-san, what were my odds on the last fight?"
"Extremely short odds as always, Katsue-kun," he assures her. "You've been breathing so long I think the audience can scarcely imagine you stopping." He looks over at her bandaged shoulder. "Not when you've overcome such trials already."
She blinks owlishly at him, setting her emptied sake cup back down- "Eiji-san, are you calling me old? I'm still not even twenty."
"For as often as you fight in the ring, it may as well be thrice that." She laughs, dipping her head to him as he takes her cup and tops her off.
"Thank you." In the fight on the screen, the man they discussed like he was already dead gets disarmed, and a sweep of a fan slices his head clean from his shoulders. Katsue smiles at Eiji and doesn't even bother to watch. Eiji smiles back, bowing his head in an acknowledgment of her gratitude as he finishes pouring, then puts the jug aside again and looks up on hearing the distinctive shing of metal into flesh and is momentarily absorbed by the events on the screen. She takes another sip and lets him watch the other competitor heft the man's head up by the hair, but once it no longer feels like an interruption, she goes on, "It was my victory, but I’m sure Eiji-niisan must have made another profit while I've lost money again, right?"
"Are you in need of a loan?" he asks warmly. "Of course, I'm always more than willing to help."
She answers, still smiling, "If I paid off my debt with a loan, then I would just be in debt again."
"The desire not to be chained by such earthly things is a virtuous one," he lauds philosophically. With the fight properly over and done with, he turns the windows opaque with a flick of his wrist, dimming the room slightly as he dispenses with the distractions.
"Yes." She laughs again, thin and soft. "Although I should be striving to rid myself of all attachments, instead I am striving to attain one. But then, perhaps attaining that attachment is a necessary step towards freeing myself of it, in turn. Or is that nonsense?"
His lips quirk, and he quotes at her, "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful." Her smile goes out. He finishes the quote, and then resumes his more natural speech pattern to go on, "Would you not say the same applies to one's attachments in the world?"
For a deafeningly silent, drawn out moment, she stares down at him, unmoving, with a face of stone.
And then she tilts her head, eyes going round. "Sorry, I don't think I get it. Eiji-niisan, sometimes you say things as difficult as the guidance of a monk."
"I apologize to you most humbly as well. I have an unfortunate disease, where I am overly literate and can hardly disregard the opportunities to share such knowledge with the world. I meant no offense, and I hope I have inflicted none."
"No, not at all. I have always admired Eiji-san's wisdom."
"As have I always been fond of Katsue-kun's earnestness."
A preteen boy stands at the foot of a tree in a courtyard, peering anxiously up at an article of clothing caught in the branches.
"What's wrong?" He jumps at the sound of a voice. Katsue (Harpy) - a bit older and taller than the boy, but not by much - trots right up to him and squints up where he's looking. She has a louder, rougher way of talking than 'Harpy' does, and a lot more unnecessary movements, scuffing a foot like she can't stand still.
The boy stares at the ground, shoulders hunched, but comparatively still. "Ah... It's..."
"Is it stuck up there? Want me to get it?"
"That wouldn't be necessary..."
"You sure? It'd be weird to just leave it there, right? Are you gonna get it?"
"Th-that's..." His eyes flick up to her, then to the clothes, then back, an increasingly mortified expression on his face. Katsue grins at him and shoves up her sleeves.
"Don't worry, don't worry, this is no big deal for me!" She hops right up and scales the tree with ease, tugging the fabric free of the branch and dropping it to the ground, herself following suit after. She brushes the sand and twigs off of it and folds it in half, offering it out to him. "There, piece of cake!"
"Th-thank you, Katsue-san..."
"It's nothing. We're going to be family from now on, so Jirou-san can rely on me any time, okay?"
"Ah... Yes."
As he reaches out to carefully accept the offered item - a Japanese-style coat - she goes on, "By the way, how did your haori end up in the tree?" He freezes, looking down at the ground again. "Jirou-san doesn't wanna say?"
"... because I'm too weak-willed..." he mumbles.
She studies his face with a frown, and he shrinks back a little under the scrutiny. "You think so? Well, we're family now, like I said. There's no shame in it if I'm the one who helps you out." He says nothing, but a bit of the tension does leave the line of his shoulders. Katsue goes on, "There's a big tear in that haori now, though. Want me to fix it?"
"Eh? No, that's... It's fine."
"No way, Jirou-san's not gonna wear it like that, are you? I'm good at sewing, you'll see. It'll be just like new!"
"Katsue."
A woman's voice cuts through the courtyard, silencing Jirou's reply. A tall and striking figure with a clear resemblance to Jirou stands in a doorway, sleekly and elegantly dressed, and carrying a beautifully shaped mug of steaming tea. They both straighten up their posture as they look over and bow, greeting her simultaneously with "Haha-ue."
"Come here," she says, and Katsue goes to her.
"Yes?"
"Speak properly," the woman says.
Katsue had already started using more formal wording the moment she shows up, but a little guilty jump still goes through her shoulders. She swiftly drops her head in another bow, concentrating and altering not just what she says, but also her tone and inflection to be more like the way Harpy speaks now, though she's not as smooth at it - "My apologies, haha-ue."
"Stay as you are. What was this about sewing?"
"I noticed a tear in Jirou-san's haori, so I offered to fix it for him."
The woman pours her cup of tea out on Katsue's head.
Katsue doesn't move.
"You are here to fulfill a role, and you will do only what is appropriate to that role. Sewing is not a part of your duties. Do you understand?"
"Yes, haha-ue."
"Jirou. Bring it to me."
"-Yes, haha-ue." He hurries over, offering out the haori with both hands. Their mother takes it and folds it over one arm, turning to leave.
"Get yourself cleaned up," she says, without another glance behind her.
Katsue doesn't lift her head again until their mother has turned a corner, calling for a servant. The backs of Katsue's ears and streaks of her cheeks are scalded red, but she looks surprised at the expression on Jirou's face. Making an effort to keep to the more well-bred way of speaking, she asks, "What's the matter? Jirou-san looks upset."
"I'm sorry... Because of me, haha-ue was harsh on you..."
"No, not at all." Katsue smiles at him, practically glowing. "Haha-ue is right. I will also be a representative of the Fujiwara family from now on, so I have to be corrected when I behave unsuitably. Jirou-san is more experienced than I am in these matters, so I will be relying on your experience and guidance from now on as well."
"Katsue-san..."
"Ah, but unless it would also be unsuitable, it really is fine to call me 'nee-san,' or something like that."
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year 18: why are Katsue and Eiji like this
"Are you going to drink with me?" Katsue watches one of the screens, but not very attentively, eyes meandering from the screen to Eiji's face as she brings the sake cup to her lips. There's a large swath of white gauze peeking out from under the collar of her clothes, looking as though it might be spread over her entire shoulder, but the movement of her arm doesn't seem any shakier or at all impeded.
"I would never decline a request from my betters, Katsue-kun." Eiji smiles at her as he puts the decanter back down beside the bottle, and takes his seat nearby hers.
"Eiji-san is always so courteous." There's a thinness to her smile, even though she doesn't seem or sound mad at him, exactly. Her eyes go back to the fight, but - "Ah, it's over." It's not actually over. The fight is still going.
He glances up and over at a screen as well. "We had him 9-2," he offers.
Even though those are terrible odds, Katsue answers, "Ehhh, that's generous. Did he do better in sparring tournaments? He's too weak mentally."
Eiji laughs, his eyebrows raised above his glasses. "I'll be sure to give your feedback to the book-maker. The competitor didn't do very well by the standards expected of his family name, you see."
"Involving myself with gambling is a bit..."
"I wouldn't be nearly so forward as to use your name without permission, of course. An anonymous tip, from an aficionado."
Katsue laughs. "It isn't really about how it looks, but aren't I close enough with Eiji-san that the source would be an obvious guess anyway?"
He hums and then shrugs. "I suppose that's true. There's no helping it then. I'll have the man fired for his poor assessment."
"It's fine either way. But I guess it matters more to Eiji-san than it does to me if the numbers are right or not. Hey, Eiji-san, what were my odds on the last fight?"
"Extremely short odds as always, Katsue-kun," he assures her. "You've been breathing so long I think the audience can scarcely imagine you stopping." He looks over at her bandaged shoulder. "Not when you've overcome such trials already."
She blinks owlishly at him, setting her emptied sake cup back down- "Eiji-san, are you calling me old? I'm still not even twenty."
"For as often as you fight in the ring, it may as well be thrice that." She laughs, dipping her head to him as he takes her cup and tops her off.
"Thank you." In the fight on the screen, the man they discussed like he was already dead gets disarmed, and a sweep of a fan slices his head clean from his shoulders. Katsue smiles at Eiji and doesn't even bother to watch. Eiji smiles back, bowing his head in an acknowledgment of her gratitude as he finishes pouring, then puts the jug aside again and looks up on hearing the distinctive shing of metal into flesh and is momentarily absorbed by the events on the screen. She takes another sip and lets him watch the other competitor heft the man's head up by the hair, but once it no longer feels like an interruption, she goes on, "It was my victory, but I’m sure Eiji-niisan must have made another profit while I've lost money again, right?"
"Are you in need of a loan?" he asks warmly. "Of course, I'm always more than willing to help."
She answers, still smiling, "If I paid off my debt with a loan, then I would just be in debt again."
"The desire not to be chained by such earthly things is a virtuous one," he lauds philosophically. With the fight properly over and done with, he turns the windows opaque with a flick of his wrist, dimming the room slightly as he dispenses with the distractions.
"Yes." She laughs again, thin and soft. "Although I should be striving to rid myself of all attachments, instead I am striving to attain one. But then, perhaps attaining that attachment is a necessary step towards freeing myself of it, in turn. Or is that nonsense?"
His lips quirk, and he quotes at her, "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful." Her smile goes out. He finishes the quote, and then resumes his more natural speech pattern to go on, "Would you not say the same applies to one's attachments in the world?"
For a deafeningly silent, drawn out moment, she stares down at him, unmoving, with a face of stone.
And then she tilts her head, eyes going round. "Sorry, I don't think I get it. Eiji-niisan, sometimes you say things as difficult as the guidance of a monk."
"I apologize to you most humbly as well. I have an unfortunate disease, where I am overly literate and can hardly disregard the opportunities to share such knowledge with the world. I meant no offense, and I hope I have inflicted none."
"No, not at all. I have always admired Eiji-san's wisdom."
"As have I always been fond of Katsue-kun's earnestness."
year 13: scolding tea.
"What's wrong?" He jumps at the sound of a voice. Katsue (Harpy) - a bit older and taller than the boy, but not by much - trots right up to him and squints up where he's looking. She has a louder, rougher way of talking than 'Harpy' does, and a lot more unnecessary movements, scuffing a foot like she can't stand still.
The boy stares at the ground, shoulders hunched, but comparatively still. "Ah... It's..."
"Is it stuck up there? Want me to get it?"
"That wouldn't be necessary..."
"You sure? It'd be weird to just leave it there, right? Are you gonna get it?"
"Th-that's..." His eyes flick up to her, then to the clothes, then back, an increasingly mortified expression on his face. Katsue grins at him and shoves up her sleeves.
"Don't worry, don't worry, this is no big deal for me!" She hops right up and scales the tree with ease, tugging the fabric free of the branch and dropping it to the ground, herself following suit after. She brushes the sand and twigs off of it and folds it in half, offering it out to him. "There, piece of cake!"
"Th-thank you, Katsue-san..."
"It's nothing. We're going to be family from now on, so Jirou-san can rely on me any time, okay?"
"Ah... Yes."
As he reaches out to carefully accept the offered item - a Japanese-style coat - she goes on, "By the way, how did your haori end up in the tree?" He freezes, looking down at the ground again. "Jirou-san doesn't wanna say?"
"... because I'm too weak-willed..." he mumbles.
She studies his face with a frown, and he shrinks back a little under the scrutiny. "You think so? Well, we're family now, like I said. There's no shame in it if I'm the one who helps you out." He says nothing, but a bit of the tension does leave the line of his shoulders. Katsue goes on, "There's a big tear in that haori now, though. Want me to fix it?"
"Eh? No, that's... It's fine."
"No way, Jirou-san's not gonna wear it like that, are you? I'm good at sewing, you'll see. It'll be just like new!"
"Katsue."
A woman's voice cuts through the courtyard, silencing Jirou's reply. A tall and striking figure with a clear resemblance to Jirou stands in a doorway, sleekly and elegantly dressed, and carrying a beautifully shaped mug of steaming tea. They both straighten up their posture as they look over and bow, greeting her simultaneously with "Haha-ue."
"Come here," she says, and Katsue goes to her.
"Yes?"
"Speak properly," the woman says.
Katsue had already started using more formal wording the moment she shows up, but a little guilty jump still goes through her shoulders. She swiftly drops her head in another bow, concentrating and altering not just what she says, but also her tone and inflection to be more like the way Harpy speaks now, though she's not as smooth at it - "My apologies, haha-ue."
"Stay as you are. What was this about sewing?"
"I noticed a tear in Jirou-san's haori, so I offered to fix it for him."
The woman pours her cup of tea out on Katsue's head.
Katsue doesn't move.
"You are here to fulfill a role, and you will do only what is appropriate to that role. Sewing is not a part of your duties. Do you understand?"
"Yes, haha-ue."
"Jirou. Bring it to me."
"-Yes, haha-ue." He hurries over, offering out the haori with both hands. Their mother takes it and folds it over one arm, turning to leave.
"Get yourself cleaned up," she says, without another glance behind her.
Katsue doesn't lift her head again until their mother has turned a corner, calling for a servant. The backs of Katsue's ears and streaks of her cheeks are scalded red, but she looks surprised at the expression on Jirou's face. Making an effort to keep to the more well-bred way of speaking, she asks, "What's the matter? Jirou-san looks upset."
"I'm sorry... Because of me, haha-ue was harsh on you..."
"No, not at all." Katsue smiles at him, practically glowing. "Haha-ue is right. I will also be a representative of the Fujiwara family from now on, so I have to be corrected when I behave unsuitably. Jirou-san is more experienced than I am in these matters, so I will be relying on your experience and guidance from now on as well."
"Katsue-san..."
"Ah, but unless it would also be unsuitable, it really is fine to call me 'nee-san,' or something like that."
"Ka- Katsue-onee-san..."