Richard
Situated amidst the sprawl of the Lion clan's embassy, Akodo Katsuhiro's developing garden was prone to harboring silence. Today would have been no different were it not for the labors of one man.

In pursuit of keeping his promise to Katsuhiro, Sanumo had found time to swing by the embassy yet again and continue his work. The young man had bound his hair back with the cord he normally wore around his head and, similarly, had removed his arms from the sleeves of his pale yellow kimono and tied it off at the waist. Were it not for the vibrant red mon of the Phoenix being visible amidst the fabric, one could have even mistaken him for a Lion.

Consulting a handful of descriptions of Shiba that he had copied for his own use, the young man selected his tools and began chiseling pieces away in an attempt to further outline Shiba's pleading form before adding finer detail.

He glanced at a large, untouched portion of the slab he had been working on. *I've come no closer to determining how best to depict Isawa...*

It was troubling, but a problem for later down the line.

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Gertrude
*Another one.* Miho s eye caught yet another flaw in their security, a guard that was just slightly later to return to its post after the rotation of their turn. It was an insignificant detail, a crease even the scrupulous Lion would tend to ignore, but to the meticulous (and more than a bit obsessive) Ikoma this was a creak in a dam, and creak after creak the stone will break and cause a catastrophic flood. She never acted on such observations, it was not her place to instruct the *Gunso* Who commanded the embassy's regiment, but she had her ways to show her displeasure; this time, a sharp glance to the poor ashigaru, who grimaced and bowed without knowing what they had done wrong this time.

As she passed through, she sent a casual glance to the garden, and froze. Something was wrong. She knew the silhouette of most of the embassy's inhabitants, and this one resembled none of them. And most of all, his mon didn't match.

Her first instinct was to reach for her daisho. A stranger, so close to Katsuhiro-sama's quarters, was alarming. But then the rational part of her brain pointed out to her that there was no way he could have passed security without authorisation, and he looked all but an assassin. Yes, he was an artisan; he was busying around a block of stone, freeing the figure within. Probably it was Katsuhiro who had called him, to complete his garden: the brash reaction earned her a slap on the head from her conscience. Yet, she was careful; she didn't like the idea of a Phoenix alone in their centre of their embassy, listening to gods know what conversations. Better engage him, subtly size him up.

"Forgive my intrusion." Intoned the Ikoma in a monotone voice, stepping in the garden. Overall she was dressed quite similarly to their guest, pale yellow hakama and robes of the same colour, but on her chest was the mon of the Lion, proudly displayed. She looked a bit like his creation, even; chiseled features, rigid posture, and an expression as warm as stone. Intentionally or not, she radiated coldness. "I was fascinated by your work, and I felt the need to take a closer look. My name is Ikoma Miho, Chui of the Third company; my pleasure." She bowed. The encouragement to introduce himself was implicit.

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Richard
From his hunched position, he glanced over his shoulder at the speaker. Noting it as a fellow samurai, he rose, replaced his tools in their housings and returned the bow. "It is nice to meet you, Ikoma Miho-sama. I am Asako Sanumo, Karo to the Phoenix ambassador."

Returning to his full height, his worn, if critical, gaze swept over her and then turned back to the statue momentarily. He swiped his hands together to dislodge some of the dust that had started climbing up his arms and looked back to Miho.

*I suppose just because I don't think too highly of my art doesn't mean that she wouldn't... She doesn't seem too eager or enthused, but perhaps that is the famous Lion stoicism at work.*

"You are kind to say so. I'm still finding my stride with this piece, but it's for a worthy cause. If that means I must push past a creative block or two, so be it." He shrugged as if there was no other feasible outcome.

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Gertrude
Miho nodded, and not just of politeness. As an amateur artist herself, her main strategy against a creative block was smashing her head against it till it collapsed. "We are grateful for your dedication, Asako-san. Together, we shall leave this place more beautiful than how we found it."

She stepped slightly around the statue to take a better look of it. She didn't understand much of sculpture, but even a child would recognise the identity of the kneeling man. "A fitting subject. Shiba-no-Kami will surely fit well in a zen garden. If I may ask, what troubles you about this piece? Its development looks satisfactory to me." True, since she didn't understand enough of sculpture to say more than that, but as she spoke her eyes also took the chance to analyse further the man. He was young, about Kenshin's age- no, even younger. Quite remarkable, being a karo already. But why was he doing this? Simple courtesy, an attempt to carry favour; the most likely answers. But her mind kept wondering it there was some political significance for a Phoenix to put a statue of their founders in the middle of their garden. *Am I overthinking?* Probably, but better that than thinking too little.

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Richard
*Because I can't stand Isawa and his ilk.*

The answer was so simple, but also not something that he could freely admit under these circumstances. While inner turmoil was a universal for most clans (or so he figured) the Phoenix went to great lengths to project a unified front - doubly so since it perpetuated their reputation for serenity and peace.

A more delicate touch was required here. Outwardly, he paused while considering his words.

"My time as a Loremaster has lent itself well to studies of history and, in my case, a focus on the history of the world shortly before Rokugan and around the time of its formation. The Kami and the prominent figures they drew to themselves are less of an unknown to me than many others."

He gestured to the burgeoning statue with a wide sweep of one hand, allowing his fingers to slowly trail back down and rest at his side. "Art is as much a spiritual matter as a physical one. What the artist makes is impacted, even in minuscule ways, by the waters within them - no matter how still or tempestuous they may be."

Throughout, it was clear that this was a matter of passion for the young samurai. He was at an intersection of matters he cared deeply about and it showed in the placement and emphasis of his words.

"While I have no disquiet when it comes to Shiba-no-Kami, my research has left me with an... Uneven mind regarding Isawa. My thoughts leave me concerned that I might inadvertently depict the man in an unclear or ill-received fashion. Given the intent of the piece, that **Cannot** Be allowed to happen."

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Gertrude
Miho stared wordlessly. She thought she understood what was stopping him, and she could only agree- she would get herself in a duel to the death by voicing a tenth of her opinions on the Isawa. But then, why choose a subject that he knew he could not represent objectively? *Perhaps he wanted to test himself.* That she could respect. Even if maybe the situation for the test wasn't ideal.

"It is not always easy to reconcile our studies with our faith; even in glorious legacies, some pages are bound to be opaque... But it is through these doubts that we temper our devotion and make it stronger." She hoped she was not overstepping the line, but this was a theme she had strong opinions on. As a student of historical warfare, she had found many an example in which the Lion had been less of the paragon they aimed to be, even in the "Embellished" Records of the Ikoma. But what was her loyalty worth, if she could not stomach being on the wrong side a few times? "I am no real artist, but if you wish for my uneducated opinion, i would say that this hesitation might not be necessarily an obstacle. Instead of suppressing your thoughts, you could accept them, and build upon them." She had done the same, after coming to terms with the fact that Ikoma had been a drunkard, quarrelling, boastful old man. Lots of mental gymnastics for that one.

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Richard
« Accept and build upon them...? » he furrowed his brow, giving the foreign thought consideration.

*What would that mean?*

Isawa had been many things. Prideful, arrogant, insufferable. But how could those be captured in a palatable, authentic way? There was substance to this, but he would need to suss it out.

« I... You may be onto something, Ikoma-sama. I have the barest inklings of an idea forming and, as you might surmise, I still have plenty of work left on Shiba-no-Kami before I can start sculpting the Isawa portion. In time, you will hopefully be able to witness the fruit of those same musings. »

He bowed, this time deeper than he had upon their initial meeting. « I suspect you have spared me much headache and I find myself needing to repay the favor. Is there anything you need? Or perhaps I could arrange a visit to our own embassy or a venue within town? »

As with most things samurai did, this would serve many purposes. It would help express his genuine gratitude, further cement ties with the Lion, and give him a semi-legitimate reason to take more time away from his desk in lieu of recent events.

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Gertrude
"I don't need anything" Would have been her instinctual answer here; she allowed herself very little luxuries but she understood this would put the Asako in a difficult position, leaving with a debt hanging over his head. Besides, her Taisa would be pleased if she started building bridges with the Phoenix.

"It was nothing, Asako-san, but I would be honored to visit the embassy of your venerable clan. There is much we Lions can learn from the Children of Shiba." Her face suggested the exact opposite of enthusiasm, but to be fair this was the expression she wore for their encounter. She probably wasn't the most expressive person.

"Then, I think I bothered you enough. As a last thing, would you like me to note Akodo-sama of your presence? I am sure he'd be pleased to see the progress of your work." Aka, *Are you here for more than your art?* For samurai, any excuse was good to start the dance of politics, and if Sanumo had come here in hopes of getting a word with her lord, she was happy to facilitate him. From her assessment, he was genuine, and she was sure her lord was wise enough to see danger if he still concealed ill intentions.

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Richard
He appreciated the outward humbleness that Miho projected. However, regardless of her sincerity, he did fully intend to repay the favor.

"An embassy visit it is then. I'll consult our upcoming schedule and coordinate an acceptable time for both of us." He gave a small, thin smile - if only because the clan's day-to-day had been rather full as of late.

But what was the point in being Karo if you couldn't make room for exceptions?

At Miho's offer to pass word along to Akodo, he visibly stalled. Shortly after a frown emerged on his face, he shook his head, "While I do enjoy our conversations, I'd rather do so after I've lived up to my word. Or, at the very least, when I'm more... Presentable than I am now." 

Sanumo's art was often something pursued alone. It had been rather peculiar to be caught in the midst of the task half-dressed and with the telltale evidence of his craft scattered across his person.

With the more cerebral bent their conversation had previously had, it seemed as though he had only now truly taken stock of the state he had been in when meeting another samurai for the first time.

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Gertrude
She nodded her head at his response; not that Katsuhiro would probably care, but she wouldn't have wanted to show herself in front of a superior in his state either (hell,she wouldn't even go in public space like that; sculpture was definitely not for her). "Of course. Then, I will leave you to your craft. If you require more materials, or something else bothers you, please bring it up to me."

At the edge of the gardens, she turns back one last time, staring at the young man. It s almost starting to become weird, until she cannot contain herself anymore and she goes: "I ll also send you a servant with cleaning tools. We won't have our guests leave our home covered in stone dust." With this thoughtful, or insulting, gift, she turns on her heels and disappears in the corridors of the embassy, without looking back.

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Richard
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For the record, I also particularly enjoyed this whole interaction. Something about your writing style tickles my fancy. 😃||