Tommy
The night was no longer so young by the time Masanori found himself on the streets of the Noble Quarter once more. It was only after he had finished *Proving his sincerity* And left to rejoin the rest of his clan in the embassy's impromptu dining hall that he discovered their absence. All that awaited him were a handful of apologetic servants, cleaning the remnants of the meal away. A dangerous thing, should any of them have realized the reason for his delay. Thankfully, the advantage of his cold, steely mien proved itself well enough. Few were willing to look up from their labor to greet him with their eyes.

The ashigaru at the gates of the Ide residence were similarly unwilling to question their superior's late return. It was hard to keep up his second face after the evening's events. He was... Content, a relatively alien feeling for one whose life had been so punctuated by struggle and unreachable ambition, but one that became more and more familiar to him as the months passed by. Perhaps there would come a day when it was as familiar to him as a close friend. One could only hope.

The need to put up an icy exterior would not last for much longer, though. He had given his diligent serving man the night off. The poor lad was probably still caught up in the high-class debauchery of Teardrop Island at such an hour, which meant his evening would conclude in seclusion in his quarters. He would have to prepare his own bath, granted, but the solace of solitude was often worth the extra work.

Such hopes seemed shattered as he approached his yurt, however. Perhaps it was a warrior's intuition, but it did not seem so abandoned as he had left it when he set off with his sister's delegation at the Mantis' invitation. The tale shared with him earlier in the evening immediately dragged him from his blissful reverie. Bracing his swords against his hip, the hulking Utaku softened his step as he approached the felt flap that served as the entrance to his abode, prepared for the worst. 

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Dwight
The day had been long. First the preparations, then the dinner, then all the goings on *Before and during* The dinner, then finally taking care of Kazuko afterwards. The Battle Maiden was known for her ability to maintain her stoic face and demeanor regardless of what circumstances faced her, and that was no more true than tonight. However, that was not to say that she was unaffected. The copious amount of alcohol consumed over the event took their toll on her after they left the sight of the Mantis.

Dealing with a drunk Kazuko was just like dealing with sober Kazuko, only with feelings. In short, it turned a challenge into a nightmare.

Thankfully it was because of her inebriated state that Fuyuko had managed to cover over one of the more egregious absences from their departure. Now that her lady was safely tucked away to regret her decisions come morning, it was time to prepare for his arrival. She'd heard that Ryo had been given the night off, and thus no one would be available to care for Masanori when he returned. So of course she decided to take on that duty, both due to her inability to let work lay unfinished and also to speak with him.

As Masanori entered the tent, he would find the woman attending to various matters in the tent: lighting enough lamps to provide a soft glow, straightening rugs, arranging the few origami figures that had toppled over. A small kettle of tea and cups available and freshly brewed. She was not going to make a whole cauldron of milk tea for his return, but still wanted to have something available for him. Coming about to face him, she bowed low, respectfully of course but not *Quite* As low as she would had it been any other Unicorn samurai. After all there was more than a little familiarity between the two.

"Greetings, Masanori-sama. I hope you do not mind, I took it upon myself to ensure the place was befitting upon your return. Was your evening well?"

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Tommy
"Fuyuko-san."

As his eyes adjusted to the light within his tent, the suspicion Masanori had felt in the moments prior made him feel like a fool. It was a foolish thing in and of itself to feel foolish over such a matter—it only took one lapse in vigilance to spell disaster—but he could not help but berate himself as he relaxed the hand on his daisho. The towering Utaku ducked beneath the flap of his yurt and offered her a short bow of acknowledgment, before making his way to the sword rack that sat beside his proud armor. The lacquered plates had remained untouched, left bereft of their purpose from the very moment they were delivered from Shiro Utaku Shojo. A befitting metaphor for the man who sought to don them.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But you do not need to do this: I am more than capable of lighting my own lanterns and brewing my own tea in Ryo-san's absence."

It was the way of the heimin to serve the samurai. And yet despite that, having Fuyuko go about the business of tending his affairs made him feel like a child again, being fussed over by the older girls at the castle. It certainly did not help that Fuyuko had been among them, over half a lifetime ago. The Utaku plucked his swords off his hip one by one, gingerly placing them atop the finely carved arms of the stand.

"The evening was... Enjoyable," Lying was always a difficult thing for him to do, so he opted for a more diplomatic measure rather than play at being disappointed, "I had expected the reception to be more terse. Should I assume Onee-san enjoyed the festivities more than she anticipated? You would likely not be here if she were still awake."

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Dwight
"Oh I know that, but once I heard Ryo-san was away and that you had not returned, I thought it best someone make it seem your yurt was occupied." Fuyuko sighed tiredly, before continuing about her work. She was exhausted, and likely the rest of her family were all tucked away in bed already, but she needed to be here. "As for Kazuko-sama, let's just say I will have a very busy morning tomorrow clearing out her schedule."

Opportunities to slip away and discuss matters of import that Kazuko remained blind to were rare, and had to be taken advantage of. She turned away to right a cute little folded paper unicorn, half because it bothered her and half to hide the playful smirk which fought to color her next words. "I take it Chiyoko-sama also *Enjoyed herself* This evening?"

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Tommy
The temptation to furrow his brows in disapproval was strong, but Masanori persevered through the urge. It did not take the sharpest eye to see the fatigue on poor Fuyuko's features as she tended to his affairs for him. Those among the bonge who tended fields or flocks or labored at a trade often envied those of their number who served the samurai directly. Perhaps there was merit in such a thing. Fuyuko certainly had never been made to go without food, and neither would her children ever need to know the indignity of starvation. 

But those who toiled in the castles and manors carried their own burdens. It was their lot in life to rise before the samurai, see their every need met throughout the day, and retire only after their masters had drifted off to slumber. That Fuyuko took on the additional responsibility of being his sister's voice surely only added to the weight of her duty. He was of mind to rebuke her for her self-sacrificial mindset and demand she rest for the trial that would be a very irate Kazuko in the morning.

Until she spoke, that was. Her words managed to stop his own before they left his throat. For a split second, he felt his blood run cold. The tone she used was not one unfamiliar to him, as even the son of a mighty daimyo was not immune to being teased when he kept the company of those of similar station. But it was not the tone that had rattled him so. It was the implication that lingered with the words.

"She did."

The lieutenant was quick to find his composure again. His expression had hardened somewhat—his usual response to adversity, to meet it with a steely, unflinching mien that offered little in the way of satisfaction to those who sought his distress. Given the nature of their surroundings, however, it proved an indication of distress all its own. There was no retreating from it, however. His yurt was his domain and he would not be made to feel discomfort so easily. 

With all the poise that could be afforded, he settled himself down at the low table which had so often played host to his meals and business in equal measure. 

"You saw fit to brew tea, did you not? Serve us some."

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Dwight
"As you wish." The heimin went about deftly snatching up the pot and cups, pouring the steaming dark liquid first to Masanori, then for herself. She had lived alongside the family long enough to know when she had struck a nerve; good, that's what she needed. Bold actions were the sort which got results. Fuyuko could have danced around the issue for minutes still, stall out and then subtly wind the conversation to the center of discussion. But that was not her way, nor would it be appreciated by the samurai before her.

"Before we discuss matters further, let me reassure you of one thing. Your sister remains as unaware of this as always when it comes to such matters." For all her strengths as a military leader, those among her inner circle knew well her often oblivious nature when it came to personal matters. She believed that if it was a matter that was of note, one that she needed to be informed of, her samurai would tell her about it. While this made those soldiers under her command intensely loyal to a commander who showed such trust in them, it did cause issue from time to time. "Nor do I intend to betray the trust Chiyoko-sama placed in me."

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Tommy
When the tea was served, Masanori allowed his eyes to linger on the steam rising from his cup rather than the woman who seated herself across from him. It was true that he had not been half so subtle as he should have been—he had brought his lover back to his own yurt on more than one occasion, and enjoyed her company on more nights than not during the peak of the winter. It was inevitable that some would eventually see through the smokescreen presented by his peculiar brand of hospitality: he made a habit of holding his business in the comfort of his own chambers rather than more impersonal portions of the residence.

That his sister's attendant was the first to indicate knowledge of his dealings vexed him. How much did she know? He was offered assurances that his elder sister had yet to catch onto things. That was good. He could only imagine how Kazuko would react if he did not have time to get out in front of the rumors. But it would do him little good if he could not ascertain exactly how Fuyuko had latched onto her suspicions. The sweet, soothing taste of black tea braced his tongue as he considered just how to find out.

An unnecessary task, given the words that next left Fuyuko's mouth. 

The Utaku nearly spit the tea he had carefully sipped onto the table before him at the mention of *Chiyoko's trust*. There were a dozen things to be gleaned from that small statement, and not a single one was particularly welcome. He had expected that Fuyuko's intuition had led her to the assumption that he shared more than simply obligation with the one-eyed ronin. To hear that the woman herself had apparently shared their connection was more than simply vexing. 

Masanori composed himself all the same, remembering to swallow his drink rather than see it sputtered before him. It would not do to allow himself panic in the face of a crisis. He needed to exude the serene calm of his ancestors if he was to proceed with due caution.

"And just what exactly is it that Chiyoko-san trusts you with, Fuyuko-san? I was not aware you were so familiar with her to feel so beholden."

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Dwight
"Chiyoko-sama visited the Embassy earlier this spring, with various legal papers on hand for processing. No one sends their yojimbo as an errand woman, and I am not blind." She remembered well when her own husband would appear with random tasks he *Claimed* Makoto sent him to do, but in reality were excuses to see her. "While she and my lady talked it was clear the ronin is fond of you.

"At least until your sister unleashed words upon her in the way you know she can." Kazuko's vicious wordplay, while not often unleashed, was known for being especially terrible towards those who garnered her ire. Fuyuko sighed, letting the exhalation run over the tea to cool it as she cast a glance upon Masanori. Taking a sip, she continued. "Chiyoko-sama left that chance meeting prepared to break things off. I convinced her to reconsider."

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Tommy
A grimace found its way onto Masanori's face despite himself. Why was it that he found himself so often enamored with such stubborn women? He had advised Chiyoko to keep away from the residence whenever possible for the very reason of avoiding contact with his sister. There would come a time when they would need to meet, a difficult time indeed, but that time was certainly not so soon as *Early spring*. That she had ended up conversing with Kazuko without his presence only made things all the worse.

It certainly didn't help that his misgivings were well-founded—the lieutenant did his level best to keep his grip on the porcelain between his fingers loose enough that it did not shatter with the tension in his fingers. His sister had only managed to be in the city for a factor of weeks, and in that span had almost poisoned what happiness he had managed to carve out in her absence. 

"What did she say?"

His agitation was audible enough in his voice that even he noticed it. A long sip followed, as if it were possible to wash away his anger with a simple cup of tea. His mood was unlikely to improve regardless of the refreshment offered, however, and so in place of serenity, he chose to see just how badly things had spiraled out of control. 

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Dwight
"I am afraid I cannot recall the exact details for you." A stonewall tactic. The heimin were to serve the samurai, but Fuyuko was to serve her lady, which in this case meant she was not at liberty to discuss the precise details with someone whose ill temper was already rising. "Chiyoko-sama implied that familial ties provided a boon. A delicate subject in this family, as we are all aware. She responded with a pointed attack at a ronin's loss of family."

She would not let this progress farther without providing something to calm Masanori. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Regardless, the words were sharp but not lethal. The ire stoked between them died away; your sister holds no ill will towards Chiyoko-sama, nor she her."

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Tommy
Masanori's eyes narrowed in response to Fuyuko's very poignant refusal to share what had been exchanged between his beloved and his sister. To what end was there value in telling him then? Why bother to inform him of the potential crisis if he was not given the necessary tools to see further calamity prevented? If she intended to agitate him, then she certainly succeeded in doing as much. She had that much in common with the woman whom she so loyally served. Something was proven all the more when she trickled the vaguest detail of the exchange to him. The furrow in his brow deepened.

"I do not *Care* If Kazuko holds no ill will towards her. She should not have said that. She should not have said anything to her at all."

Unreasonable? Perhaps. His sister served as the Unicorn's head diplomat in the city. With Moshi Mai's propensity for using Chiyoko as her messenger, it was inevitable that they would eventually cross paths at some point. That did not give his sister the right to pick a fight over her misgivings about their families. Especially not when that fight nearly cost him everything he held dear. 

"Why is it that she must poison everything I hold dear? Is it not enough that my every success vanishes into her shadow? My every opportunity to prove myself squashed by her presence?" 

No amount of aging could produce a tea sweet enough to counteract the bitterness in his words, and so he set the cup in his hand atop the table before them with just a little more force than he intended. The dark liquid vibrated with the force. 

"Why is it that every time I manage to carve some small solace for myself in this world, she is there to steal it away from me? What great crime have I committed that I must be so constantly punished?"

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Dwight
There were a thousand thoughts which passed through Fuyuko's head. Thoughts to soothe his growing anger, the reassure him. Then came the anger, the exhausted dam of sitting by with this family while they tore themselves apart threatening to reach ever closer to bursting. For a moment a scathing tirade formed on her lips, the same venom so frequently used as her lady's voice nearly spilling out into her own.

Instead she also set down her tea.

"Masanori-sama, I did not come here tonight to argue over who is or is not to be vilified in this tale. That is a matter between you and Kazuko, and one I *Sincerely* Believe you do not wish my opinion on." Her face was set firmly, but the bitter taste in her mouth fading away. In the end no words she could say would break down the stubborn pride of either. "I came here to do what my line has pledged to do for generations: serve this family; ensure their well-being and contentment."

She took a moment to glance around the room. The origami figurines displayed so proudly—if poorly, until she reorganized them to better direct the yurt's energy. There was no need to search for two matching cups for the tea, a set for two was now a constant feature in this place. "Chiyoko-sama is a good woman, and she makes you happy. Happier than I have seen you in quite some time. Whatever you need to see this succeed, I want you to know I am at your disposal."

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Tommy
"Then perhaps you should continue to keep it to yourself."

The soft flicker of the lantern's light found little to reflect off of as Masanori turned his dark eyes toward Fuyuko. It was clear enough to him that she had more to say on the matters between him and his sister, and her allegiance in such a conflict was as clear as the bite that threatened to bleed through into her words. Perhaps it was better, then, to allow the matter to lie. The good spirits he found himself in upon returning to the Ide residence were already marred enough by the potential of what *Might* Have gone wrong. No reason to further tarnish them with raw wounds.

The change of subject was a different sort of sour, however. It was difficult for him to truly put his faith in her reassurances—that she wished to commit herself to serving his family—on the matter of his relationship with Chiyoko. Surely, if she had intended to serve the good of the family, she would have encouraged them to sever their relations, to avoid scandal. Yet she did not do so when given the opportunity. He considered her words for a long moment, his dark hues glancing across the sparse interior of his yurt to linger on a line of diligently folded paper animals.

"I could not even begin to fathom what I require to succeed. Do you know what she asked me tonight, once we had slipped away from the dinner?" It was a rhetorical question, of course, and so he did not await a response, though he did give Fuyuko the decency of returning his gaze to her before continuing, "She asked me if I thought my family would allow us to marry if she earned her name back."

The memory was not a pleasant one. She had taken his response in stride, rebuke though it was. She had even apologized to him for forcing him to wound her so. What else could he have said? Lied to her? Indulged himself further in some fantasy? That they might be granted the reprieve of marital bliss by a woman who scorned her children such that she could not stomach the thought of them benefitting from her name? 

"What was I to tell her? The painful truth? That my mother, a woman who commands the fealty of hundreds of thousands, would indulge us? Chiyoko does not even know the mighty position she holds. Would she even make such an earnest request of me if she knew? A question I will eventually need to hear the answer to myself, regardless of the wishes of Utaku Reika."

The rumble that left his chest was one of discontent. The situation frustrated him endlessly. How could it not? He was not made for the delicate dance required for such deceit. Yet if he wished to love the woman he loved, and enjoy her love in return, he had no choice.

"I hoped that Ryoko Owari Toshi would be the crucible for my success. A place where I might prove myself more than worthy of my mother's approval. If I could deliver the city to her, perhaps she might acknowledge me as more than an unfortunate circumstance to be tolerated. It gave me purpose when I lacked one. Something to labor diligently towards."

"Now... Now I cannot help but wonder whether it would be enough to see my Chiyoko's request granted instead. If I can drag the Scorpion out of their dens by the tail, de-claw the Lion, and see our banners draped across the governor's palace... Perhaps she might humor my selfishness, and grant me the hand of a woman I hold dear, no matter her standing."

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Dwight
"I do not know what must be done for you to win Reika-sama's approval. I have yet to meet any who have done so." Utaku Reika was the model of a perfect samurai. In short, a rather terrible human being. It was unfortunate to see Kazuko unwittingly following in those same footsteps.

"I do not believe her the one you will have to convince. Kazuko-sama has been given broad authority to approve familial matches." It was part of the reason *Both* Of the other siblings were still in the city. Masanori had quickly become indispensible, but Tsumugi had no real reason to be here, other than as a marriage prospect. "If you could convince *Her* Of the request, I doubt even your mother could oppose the both of you together."

She sighed, knowing the challenge did not simply resolve itself by changing the target. "Of course, that also is not an easy task. She is a stubborn woman after all."

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Tommy
"I do not seek her approval."

The words nearly caused Masanori to wince, if only because of how very untrue they felt as they passed from his tongue. What else had he been pursuing since he was old enough to pursue anything at all? What else did any young bushi desire but the endorsement of those that came before them?

"... At least, not on this matter. I need only her tolerance. Enough for her to give the match her leave."

Whether he could wrestle such from the woman was another matter entirely. Of course, Fuyuko's words offered another way. He was not ignorant of Kazuko's authority in the matter of marriage proposals—she had reminded him of such on the very same day she arrived in the city, so many months before. He had taken it as a threat of sorts, a reminder that he had not done his duty to their family, though whether it came from their mother or the woman herself he had never considered. Whatever the reason, it seemed that Utaku Reika had enough trust in the judgment of her heir to select potential partners for both her younger children.

"Kazuko is not the only stubborn woman involved in this. My Chiyoko, she is also... Exceedingly willful. If she gets it in her head that gaining my sister's approval might grant her the match she desires, I fear nothing will stop her from marching back to the Ide residence to win it. Given how their initial meeting almost ended our relationship entirely, I am weary of that outcome."

It was a difficult situation. And one that—if previous events had proven anything of—threatened to come to a head at any moment. The question was just how to prepare for the time in such a way as to guarantee the best outcome possible.

"I will have to speak with both of them. See if an understanding can be reached. Until then... I urge you to keep what we have discussed within the confines of this tent. The last thing I need is for either of them to get the wrong impression of the situation in the meantime."

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Dwight
Fuyuko bowed deeply, acknowledging the man's request. She could keep matters in secret, if that was what he felt best. She moved to refill both of their cups. It was no easy task, dealing with so many willful and stubborn individuals. Luckily generations of doing just that prepared her for such matters. "As you wish, Masanori-sama. These matters will remain only within the confines of your yurt.

"If you should ever require *Legitimate* Excuses for rendezvous, though, I still retain my skill for coming up with reasons." When the three were young there had been several instances where advance planning and quick thinking on the heimin's part had added a convincing legitimacy to the more foolish acts of children. As the servant grew, these skills were put to use in preparing for the political arenas her lady so sorely lacked in. But she was confident her abilities would still hold if needed. "You need but ask and I will act.

"And when the time comes for you to speak on this matter, I ask that you inform me first. There are things I can do to prepare and lessen what seems to be the inevitable."

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