Gin and Kuro: The Greatest Stories

Seiko could only remember pieces of the battle—leaving the palace, encountering a few rebels but the voices used her to kill them, then she snuck off to the gardens to hopefully stay away from fighting. She recalled the actions she was in control of, and nothing more.

She didn’t fully regain herself until royal soldiers found her, shivering in the cold. They didn’t need to tell her about who died, but she listened to Prince Jukazu’s evening speech regardless.

Lady Keichiro and Akemi were the first victims, killed in the dining hall while the latter waited for tea and her mother was taking a break from helping Prince Jukazu. The rebels only sought out the royal family—only injured or killed soldiers that fought them first—so not many loyal men were lost. However, Chiki and Kyuru were both stabbed in the heart. Lord Gin engaged with a few rebels, who left him to die after enough heavy wounds; he succumbed to them before nightfall.

Prince Jukazu claimed he fought, but the voices called him a coward. He expressed some form of sincere grief, then downed half a bottle of liquor with the small crowd watching and ordered his fiancée Yanzo Eyako to take charge of the battle effort. Hopeless, she apologized for his display as he stormed off to demand funeral preparations begin.

Maenomi came back from the shrine unharmed but heartbroken. She stayed by her father’s side until his last breath, then huddled close to Seiko. She couldn’t blame her—she avoided the attack by mere happenstance, while everyone else she cared for was either hurt or dead.

The only military orders that seemed to be passed along in the week since was that the former guards of the deceased children were to integrate themselves into the routine of normal soldiers. As for the rest of them, they weren’t given anything new—a majority of them continued on as normal, and a small portion of them outright left the capital. They weren’t stopped.

Any trusted soldiers or servants were invited to eat at the royal family’s table by Maenomi’s request; otherwise, with Prince Jukazu typically absent, the meal went by in a shared silence from only three people. It brought pleasant conversation that never came even when the whole royal family had been there.

Maenomi asked Seiko and Kinjo—Masaaki was invited to eat with them, but he rarely came—to come with her after one breakfast, so both obliged. She led them to her father’s now-abandoned study, every paper and book just as it had been before the battle.

The princess took a little breath as she stepped inside, reverent and mournful at once. She gestured to the chairs and tried to smile back at them, but failed to show anything but sadness.

“Go ahead and take a seat. Close the door behind you.”

Kinjo, the last to enter, nodded; Seiko cautiously sat down as Maenomi looked through the bookshelves, trying to find something in particular.

Seiko waited to let her sister speak first.

“Do you remember when I told you about Tekazu Hafumi, Miss Tsujihara?” Maenomi asked, glancing back for a second. “I bought a few gifts for her when you first came here.”

“She left the capital not long after?” Seiko recalled, posing it as a question in case she was wrong.

Yet Maenomi nodded. “She’s in the east now. We’ve kept in touch ever since the war started.”

She brushed her hand against the side of the books and scrolls, perking up and pulling out a small piece of paper near the far end. She unfolded it, nodded, then turned back to look at Seiko and Kinjo with a little bit of determination.

“Will you both promise to keep this to yourselves?”

Seiko murmured agreement and Kinjo gave a little ‘yes.’ She should know by now that promises mean nothing, the voices whispered.

Maenomi took another breath, then passed the paper to Seiko. She remained standing by the edge of the desk, instead of sitting down in the chair behind it.

“Father and I have been discussing a way for myself, Kyuru, and Miss Tsujihara to leave the capital,” Maenomi explained. “Father only wrote down the most important things, in case he…couldn’t oversee it. The Tekazu family agreed to take all three of us and whoever we trust most into their home.”

Seiko skimmed the paper, then let Kinjo read it off.

“‘Three week journey on horse, weather permitting. All east.’”

“He didn’t think much was noteworthy,” Maenomi admitted. “Rightfully, he didn’t want Jukazu to see it—the man would call both of us cowards and could harm the Tekazu family. Kyuru won’t be able to come, but…”

She looked away and paused, staring out the window for a moment. “...Is it selfish that I’d rather live and leave them here than die, myself?”

Of course, the voices laughed.

“Not at all,” Seiko replied. She winced at the little bit of pain that came at her resistance.

“To be honest, I’d like to believe Lady Aimiki saved me so I could meet Teha again. She only left because Yukira”—she stopped calling her ‘mother’ at some point after she disappeared—”spread rumors about her. Maybe Lady Aimiki didn’t appreciate the lies, or she wants to see us reunited; regardless, Father wanted us to leave if things got to this point.”

“So I’ll be taking you and Tsujihara to wherever the Tekazu family lives?” Kinjo asked to confirm.

“If you’re willing, yes,” Maenomi agreed, looking at them both again. “You’re friends with Kyuru’s guard as well, aren’t you? Masaaki. He can come; we might not have enough support without him.”

“I haven’t seen him in a few days,” Kinjo admitted, “But I’ve been meaning to talk to him soon. When I find him, I’ll give a few details—I know he won’t tell anyone else.”

“Good.” The princess nodded, her sadness slowly fading in favor of something more positive. Seiko wondered if thinking about reuniting with Tekazu Hafumi helped Maenomi manage through the losses. “I’d like to start preparing as soon as possible, without Jukazu noticing. Gather up your warmest clothes and whatever spare money you have; I can arrange for horses and other supplies while I’m in town in the mornings.”

The other two gave some agreement, and they all left together. The rest of the day passed by without any real mention of it, but the voices were buzzing around in the back of Seiko’s mind.

She’s learned, but she’s still naive… Does she really think she can run?

No one can escape this fate. Not even you, Seiko…

Although, perhaps if you’re lucky, this will be over soon.