Jiritsu Capital, Jiritsu

They marched out in single file into the snowy gardens. Shivering, the castle's staff waited to be addressed, the structure itself stood eerily silent and looming behind them like a mausoleum. Fifty or sixty men, Takumi counted from his window, and half as many women staff members. He had no idea who they were or who in the palace they may represent.

The armed forces stood to the side, locked in formation, their banner of the blue wave and golden wheat flying. The last of noble ladies filed out with the remaining concubines, perhaps two dozen in total. A flock of tropical birds in their layered silk robes, clashing against the snow.

The eldest women stood out from the crowd, some supported by walking canes, their once black hair now almost totally silver. The weight of their winter coats bowed their frames. Their daughters stood close to them. Some were crying.

The winter garden framed the crowds in a fitting scene. Struggling and overwhelmed. The attending staff whispered quietly amongst themselves, most nervous and all confused as to why they had been summoned. Not every worker in the castle had been called, just those who headed certain task groups. Whatever they would be told they would likely have to share it among their staff.

The private army remained silent, trained to hold their tongues and follow orders. After the massacre of the generals in the courtyard a single older Major stood at the front, uncomfortable with his sudden promotion.

Takumi had been reading a lot, and it helped him in identifying different members of the court. The wives of the old warlord wore bright colours, depending on the season, and up to twelve layers at a time in the colder months. Their underclothes were always red, the peak of their collar visible no more than a finger's width at the neck. Their sashes were adorned with the family crest in gold thread, always gold, and tied at the back in huge loops.

The unmarried daughters who remained in their home wore white underclothes, which progressed in a single colour growing steadily brighter and more saturated. Sky blue, spring green, mustard yellow, sunny orange, deep red, rich violet, moody indigo, ocean turquoise. Their outfits were held in place by wide, back tied sashes with their father's sigil in silver. They were the eight remaining daughters of the old man.

The concubines wore greys with various undertones and solid black, their wide, stiff silk belts tied at the front in elaborate knots with ribbons and padding. No sigil for the concubines, not until they bore a son and were promoted to 'wife'. Their hair was worn in strict styles, never ever symmetrical, unlike ladies of noble birth. Their hair adornments and makeup was the brightest, almost garish in comparison, like a costume. Lips too red, eyes too dark.

Notably, there was no head wife dressed in gold, pink and red. The one who should occupy the empty seat by the main throne, the one Takumi saw the day the warlord died. The seat Amakaya now occupied. He had not seen her since Taisho had called him into his office to discuss his cousin. He wondered if she was in trouble.

"Under the rule of my father," Taisho announced to the groups shivering in the gardens. He was not shaking in the slightest. He seemed not to feel the cold blasts of the wind. "This country has adopted a strict system of registry for families and immigration. From today, these papers will be amended across the country to determine your lineage, namely your Collector heritage."

A murmur came from the crowds, people looking from side to side suspiciously. Takumi wondered if these ordinary people know what is coming next.

"In my castle," the new warlord continued. "Magic is welcome. We shall align our gifts under this roof. Priority for all work and provisions here will go to Collectors and those with direct Collector heritage. In order to amend your papers, you must register the magical members of your family with authorities posted in each major town in the land. Registration must be made in person and can only be granted to those on your family documents. Those without gifts, but with Collector blood from mothers and grandmothers, will receive a secondary and tertiary amendment respectively and be granted similar freedoms. Any families wishing to immigrate here must register their heritage at the nearest outpost. Falsifications of these documents is not recommended for those who do not wish to suffer a truly dreadful fate."

The murmur died quickly.

"You will be required to prove your Collector status." Taisho finished. "I expect you all to return with your documents before this time next month. Those without any magical blood may leave without issue. There is no reason for you to remain here. You are dismissed."

The midday meal must have been a stale affair. The next shift of maids was full of tear-stained faces and Takumi waited nervously for Tomomi to return.

All the maids wore the same mint green and white robes, most only looking at their work or the floor. When she did arrive, her dark eyes were reddened and puffy from crying. Her painted lip was a little smeared, the evidence of her deep weeping left smudged on her sleeve.

"Tomomi," Takumi said, his heart in his throat. "I heard the decree. Do you have to leave?"

Tomomi sniffed and shook her head, then hesitated.

"Not if we can get my sister here within a month." she said quietly. "She has a gift. I don't."

"But that means you can stay!" Takumi exclaimed happily. "You have a Collector in your immediate family."

Tomomi frowned in frustration.

"You don't understand." she argued. "I can stay, but so many people are going to be told to leave. My friends and their families."

"It's safer this way." Takumi assured her. "People like your sister and I will be safe here."

"The people here are ordinary people." she replied. "They've never ousted a Collector or their family for who they are. They've never been a part of these politics, and now they're losing their livelihoods."

Takumi felt a little taken aback. There were so many other places these people could work and live. This was no comparison to a world wide discimination against Collectors.

"I'm glad you can stay." he said eventually. "I know you might not agree, but I hope this means that your family can have a safer place to stay. Why wouldn't I want that?"

"I'd rather the doors were open to everyone, no matter their background." Tomomi said, eyeing the door. "I shouldn't say anymore. I need this job. I have to write home as soon as I get off my shift."

They did not exchange any more words as she cleaned, the silence palpable. Several times, Takumi opened his mouth to speak but nothing seemed to form. Did she not understand that having one safe place could make all the difference to Collectors? Being together as one nation could be the difference between life and death for so many innocent people?

Tomomi left without saying goodbye. The room felt darker and lonelier instead of clean.

"Where will the people go if they can't stay here?" Takumi asked Chikuroshi over their meal.

"The men will find work in the nations across the water if they cannot get it here in Jiritsu." the swordsman said, expertly using his chopsticks to eat his sticky rice and pickled vegetables. "The women may face issues though. Jiritsu embraces the female workforce much more readily than our neighbours. It has done for many generations. Many will not meet the standards for marriage either in the other islands."

"But where will the women go if they can't get work?" Takumi asked.

"Whorehouses." Shirono sniffed, his mouth half full.

"Shirono, please." Setsu muttered, rubbing his brow next to Takumi. "That's such an ugly term. Please call them brothels."

"Who cares?" he retorted, waving his chopsticks nonchalantly. "We'll probably see them there sooner rather than later."

"Now there's a plan." Kizana agreed. "I wonder where the royal daughters will end up."

"Nearby." Shirono considered. "With no one to carry them anymore, those delicate feet won't take them far."

Setsu rubbed his forehead in frustration, muttering.

"They won't even get to leave by carriage?" Takumi asked.

"Those things belong to the lord of the castle." Chikuroshi explained. "It would be up to Taisho to decide what they may take with them."

"Boo hoo." Shirono muttered. "Life goes on."

Chikuroshi ignored him, exchanging exasperated glances with Setsu.

Takumi looked at his spoon sitting in his bowl of rice, not feeling hungry anymore. Life would go on, that was the only guarantee sometimes. He looked up and down the long table, trying to see any responses from any of the other men. Most of Nisshoku had not even engaged, more interested in their meals than the fate of the castle staff.

"Were there any Collectors already here?" Takumi asked Setsu.

"The head falconer, the hound master..." he recalled. "They're brothers I'm told, so their families will likely be permitted to stay. There's probably more but I was a little distracted by those handsome family features they share."

"So they must have a Collector mother or grandmother?"

"Most likely. From my knowledge, magic in humans is matrilineal. Though sometimes it's spontaneous."

"So my children might not be Collectors?" Takumi said in surprise.

"If their mother has no magic, there's a high chance they'll just be human. Unless you got it from your mother and they then inherit it from her blood. Was she?"

"I... I don't know." Takumi confessed. "She died when I was really young. My father and aunt too. The Sleeping Sickness, I was told."

"Another orphan." Hanto said, speaking for the first time since sitting down to a literal mountain of food.

It made sense that such a huge person ate a lot, though no meat as Setsu had told him before. The locally farmed pulses, grains, nuts, mushrooms, eggs and dairy contained all the protein he needed to maintain his dense muscle. He was outside all day, even in the snow, and mostly returned to the castle to sleep - which probably required two beds pushed together to accommodate his bulk.

"I had my uncle and cousins to look after me." Takumi said. "I missed knowing my parents, but I still had family."

"Speaking of family," Kizana interjected. "Didn't Taisho call you upstairs to talk to him about a cousin of yours?"

Takumi nodded.

"Yeah. I only have the two." he answered. "I don't think I was much help. They both left home a few years ago, so it was just me for a while."

"What did he ask?" Setsu questioned, his eyes narrow.

"He wanted to know about Rubi, she's the younger one. He asked me about anything strange I noticed while we were growing up, but mostly I spent time with Hiiro since Rubi was sick a lot."

The table fell quiet, even the chewing stopped.

"Sick how?" Setsu asked.

"I'm not totally sure. She spent a lot of time in bed throwing up and in pain. Even walking hurt."

Glances darted back and forth across the table, leaving Takumi feeling completely lost.

"She's a Collector, yes?" Chikuroshi asked, staring so hard at him his eyes seemed to bore straight through him.

"I think so, yes. She lit the library on fire once. There was a rumour that the candle she had was nowhere near the source of the fire. I know for sure that Hiiro is, though. He could shoot things off the top of a wall with his fingers. He showed me a few times..."

The second half of what he said seemed to go over their heads.

"Well that explains that then." Kizana said, sighing.

"Explains what?" Takumi asked earnestly. "Can someone tell me what all this means?"

Chikuroshi put down his utensils and looked at the other men, waiting to see if anyone was going to try and stop him from saying something. No one did.

"Do you know what Taisho is?" he asked in a serious tone.

Takumi shook his head.

"He's a being called a Perfect Immortal." the swordsman explained. "One of three in the world. When one dies, another is immediately conceived. You remember that Taisho's mother was a Collector, yes? Perfect Immortals are only ever born to Collector women, namely one who have been told they will likely never have children. If he's interested in your cousin... I'd say that's reason to believe that he expects her to be the next mother."

"One of three?" Takumi asked. "Who are the other two then?"

"One we've never found," Setsu said. "But they're out there. The other was born not too long ago after Taisho killed and absorbed the previous one, but has been missing for some time."

Takumi looked at him wide eyed, trying to decipher his expression.

"Not too long ago? How recently?"

No one spoke.

Suddenly it occurred to Takumi who it might be, the last mother. The only female Collector close to Taisho who had told him she had a child once and always looked so deathly unwell.

"Amakaya said she had a baby once." he said slowly. "Was Amakaya's baby the last one?"

Chikuroshi nodded.

"What happened? How did a child go missing?"

"A lapse in security." Setsu said in a low voice. "Amakaya is a Seer as well as a Collector. She saw her future and that the only child she would ever have would be a Perfect Immortal. When Taisho discovered this, he took her as his wife. After he found and killed another Immortal, she fell pregnant. There would have been two Immortals in the same family if she hadn't escaped."

"Escaped?" Takumi repeated, his stomach turning. "She's... she's a prisoner?"

"War is a monster, Takumi." Chikuroshi said stiffly. He did not look at him as he spoke. "Sacrifices are made. Not all good."

"So my cousin will be a prisoner too?" Takumi exclaimed, standing up from the table.

"Sit down, boy." Shirono said coldly.

Takumi felt weakness in his legs, but he held his ground. He did not sit.

"Takumi," Setsu said softly, raising his hand to calm Shirono. "Two of our priorities are to find and retrieve Amakaya's child, and your cousin. When we do, there will be two Perfect Immortals against the last one. When Taisho kills the last, the next will be born, and for the first time all three Perfect Immortals will be united under one house. That is our ace in our deck. With all three, we can achieve global peace. Peace for magical folk like us. No one will dare persecute us again. Whole wars and massacres of innocents can be stopped with the three united under one flag. Don't you want that?"

Takumi's throat felt tight. An unstoppable army of three Perfect Immortals. That was Taisho's plan. He felt so stupid, so strung along by being made to feel special. He was a piece in this game, but he was not the prize.

"In all of recorded history, humans have never treated us with respect." Setsu continued. "They have killed us, tortured us, and hunted us across the world. This is possibly the only thing we have never tried, and it can work. It will work."

"What if Rubi isn't the one?" he croaked uneasily.

"Then she's free to do as she pleases." Chikuroshi responded. "She is a Collector after all. Your bloodline is strong."

Takumi thought for a long while, too consumed in his thoughts to feel foolish standing in the middle of the dining room.

"Is it worth it?" he asked after a long silence.

Hanto stood up angrily as if Takumi had struck him.

"My whole tribe was rounded up like vermin," he spat, his booming voice so loud it hurt Takumi's ears. "They were gathered and forced off a cliff into a river and the rocks below by an army of humans they had never met. I saw my mother go over the edge. I don't remember what she said to me, but I remember how I felt, because she was wrong. I saw bodies floating downstream as they took us kids away, drugged us and sold us on the mainland. Do you know what people do to kids when they think they own them? I don't remember the language my family spoke, nor have I ever seen the ground my ancestors were laid to rest in. My history is scrubbed from the land and there is no one left who remembers it to tell me. Humans are afraid of anything that isn't them. They will exterminate us at any opportunity, as they always have. Of course it's worth it. Now. Sit. Down."

Setsu took his hand gently and urged him back towards his seat. Takumi considered sitting, but then his body suddenly felt heavy. Sleepy almost.

"Oh no." he mouthed, realising he had made a dangerous mistake.

Setsu's bare hand was on his. A fuzzy feeling lulled him gently into the seat. Hanto sat back down, making the table rumble as he did so, then went back to his meal with a frown.

"Takumi," Setsu said softly. "Are you done eating?"

Through his cottonmouth, he managed to muster a reply.

"Yes."

"Alright. Now go back to your room and go to bed."

He let go of his hand and with no control, Takumi stood up and started to walk out of the dining hall. He irrationally wanted to get under his blankets and sleep.

He walked in a daze all the way to his room and flopped face down on his bed, almost immediately passing out. He awoke some hours later to someone patting his shoulder. He shifted, bleary eyed, and finally saw Tomomi crouched on the floor next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, placing her hand over his forehead. "Your door was wide open and I saw you face down in your pillow. Are you sick?"

"No," he said groggily. "I... Setsu used his power on me. I was like a zombie. He told me to go to bed and my body just moved on it's own."

"Which one is Setsu?"

"The pretty one with long black hair. He's my mentor."

"Ah. How are you feeling?"

Takumi rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, feeling heavy but unharmed.

"I think I'm alright. It was so strange. I just couldn't resist what he said."

"That's scary." Tomomi said uneasily. "He could tell you to kill yourself and you might do it."

"No, no. He wouldn't do that." he assured her, though once it left his lips he began to wonder if he should be so confident.

He told Tomomi about what Hanto said at the table to explain Setsu's actions. She looked disturbed as he repeated what the giant man had lived through and when he was done, her eyes were glossy with tears.

"I feel like the others will have their own stories, just like that one." Takumi said grimly. "I understand why so many of them would be prepared to do anything to have a better world."

Tomomi was silent for a while, processing.

"I like you, Takumi." she said in a quiet voice. "But I'm human. I don't have a place in the fight for this world you're describing. There's nothing I can do if war comes here. All my family and I can be is civilian casualties."

"In Jiritsu you'll be safe." Takumi insisted. "No one can take over this country with Taisho based here. When your sister gets here, you can stay."

She looked unsure.

"I hope so." she said. "It would be good if they could work here too, then I could see them more than once or twice a year."

"I'd like to meet them one day. If I can speak to him, I can ask Taisho personally if he can show some leniency for your family, to make sure they get here and have work. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Thank you, Takumi." she said, placing her soft, warm hand on his. "I get off work at dinner time. Maybe we can see each other afterwards?"

"I'd like that." Takumi said, heart pounding in his ears and heat rising to his cheeks. "Where should I meet you?"

"Here." she replied. "I'll change my clothes and meet you back here."

The next few hours passed both too fast and too slow. Takumi paced his room, the halls, the gardens. He nervously ate his dinner, finally hungry after neglecting his lunch, at the far end of the table Nisshoku was seated at. He barely even looked at Setsu, who left him be while they ate.

He was relieved that Hanto was not in a foul mood and acting as if nothing had happened that day. He and Kizana were talking loudly, laughing and joking. Shirono was irritating Chikuroshi with anything that happened to pop into his mind. The swordsman ate wordless, not engaging at all to his master's chagrin.

Takumi wanted to find that book again about their families' connected histories. He noticed that he removed his three matching swords while inside, but never the old one that conjured the portals. The one on the bottom edge of the book's cover. He wanted to know more about it, almost as much as he wanted to see Tomomi.

As he left the dining room, he saw a serving trolley outside the kitchen. There was one meal sitting on the uppermost tray. Who was it for, just a single meal?

He hovered in the hallway for a moment out of curiosity, waiting to see where it was going. The chef came out after a few minutes with a huge cut of meat, raw, bone still in, on a large platter. He then called over a server to wheel it to the dumbwaiter and take the food up. He did not say to who.

If they had to use the dumbwaiter, it was probably going upstairs to the royal suites where Taisho, Amakaya, Orojidai, and Akiraoni were. Now he knew where that huge slab of fresh meat was going, though it did not explain where there was only one meal for three others. Did Taisho not eat? Who else did not need to eat? It was a guess between Orojidai and Amakaya. She often looked so unwell, so perhaps she often did not have much of an appetite?

He headed back to his room and sat on his bed. Beds here were weird. They were basically thick, cloth mattresses stuffed with something laid on the woven floor. The blankets were thick, like two sheets filled with feather down. Both the blanket and the mattress had two silk ribbons stitched to the end, so that they could be rolled up and tied closed for storage.

Back home, mattresses were sat on tall frames to stay cool and out of the way of bugs and other undesirable critters. They also had small wooden supports that were open in the middle to put your pillow on and let the air circulate through. Here they had just a stack of plush feather cushions he was still getting used to. It was so soft his head felt like it was floating.

Someone knocked softly at his door. His heart jumped and he quickly got up to open the door. He slid it open carefully, and there was Tomomi, out of her uniform and makeup. She was dressed in a simple pale pink robe and sash, her hair loose and long. Without her makeup on, she suddenly looked like an ordinary girl the same age as him. No white face powder on her beige skin, no red painted lower lip.

"You look beautiful." Takumi said as soon as he thought it.

"Thank you." she said, blushing. "May I come in?"

"Of course, please do."

After he closed the door and they locked eyes, Tomomi stepped forward, popped up on her toes and then suddenly her soft lips were pressed against his. Time seemed to stand still and Takumi realised he had no idea what to do with his hands. He brought his hands up her back, touching her silky, straight black hair. Her hands moved too, touching his bouncy dark curls. She pulled back, her eyes a little wide and quizzicle.

"Something wrong?" he asked her, a little worried.

"No, not at all." she replied, running her fingers through his coiling dark hair. "I've never touched hair like yours before. It feels so nice!"

"Yours too!" Takumi laughed, relieved. "I can't imagine having hair that can lay down flat when you want it to!"

They both laughed together, their bodies close and a blissful warmth building between them. Tomomi ran her fingertips over his full lips, across his high cheekbones, down his strong nose. He looked so different to anyone she had ever seen.

"You're beautiful." she said softly.

Takumi felt his cheeks flush but he smiled.

"You're beautiful." he insisted back.

He took in the gentle upturn of her deep-set brown eyes. The intense blackness of her lashes. The soft roundness of her cheeks as she smiled. Her small, button nose. Her lips, the bottom one still stained a little red from her earlier makeup.

"I'm so glad I met you." she breathed. "Even in these circumstances, we were brought together. Just like The Tale of Takumi the Bright."

Takumi kissed her again, then felt Tomomi's hand pulling at the uniform black belt around his waist. Both panic and excitement rushed through him.

Don't make a fool of yourself, he thought desperately, this is it.

"Are you alright?" she asked suddenly. "Do you need me to stop?"

"Oh, no." he said quickly. "I'm just getting in my head a bit."

Her expression was empathetic.

"Don't be nervous," she whispered. "There's a first time for everyone."

He nodded and Tomomi pulled him towards the bed.