Sayuri had been saddened to have to hand over the entirety of both Hana and Kyoji’s corpses. She had carefully frozen both of the bodies and had them placed in crates, she would have preferred to keep them in pretty blocks of ice so that the true artistry was evident on first glance, but she had received numerous looks of disgust and horror at her concept of ‘art’ and so had begrudgingly allowed some of the guards assisting her to bring the wooden boxes. She had even gone to great lengths to create swirls of ice that looked like vines and flowers, adding what she thought was a good amount of beauty and respect to an otherwise drab shape. But it wouldn’t do for her to upset those that she was leading now. At least not yet, not until her position was better secured and her opposition was a distant memory.
She had dressed the same as she always did when travelling to the Heavenly Emporium, a long white gown decorated with bits of fur and crystals and not a scrap of footwear. She had never had any reason to wear shoes before, and now that there was no one in all of Kirigakure that could tell her what she should and should not be wearing, she felt a moral responsibility to do whatever she damn well pleased. She had arranged for a meeting room to be made available in the Diplomacy district of the Heavenly Emporium, and she made her way there immediately. The crates were carried by some workers that she tipped generously. As a Yuki she understood the importance of paying off those that you intended to use again. She directed them to leave the crates in the corner of the room, and she fought down the urge to open them up once the workers had left. Staring lovingly at dead bodies was among her favourite pastimes, but just like the decorating of ice coffins, was frequently looked down upon by other people.
Sitting on a cushion at the long low table, she would curl her feet under herself and wait for whoever was supposed to arrive from Kumogakure. She had sent a letter to open talks of peace, but she didn’t know precisely who she was meeting with. She played with her white blonde hair as she sat and conversed in her mind.
‘Maybe he’ll come.’
‘Perhaps he will, my Queen. If he doesn’t, remember that we cannot kill people here.’
‘I know, I know. I don’t like it, but I don’t know if we can afford to be forcibly removed from here now. So for now, I will be peaceful.’
Her internal conversation with Jareth was rife with sarcasm. The idea of her being ‘peaceful’ was about as ridiculous as fish walking. The ‘he’ she spoke of was Tamwyn. She had been hunting him since that fateful day when she had awoken in the hospital and he was nowhere to be found. At first she had been angry and hurt, but now she found the process enjoyable. In the same way one might find duck hunting enjoyable. You know approximately where they are and how to catch them, and you can sleep soundly knowing that if you decide to go after them, you can wring their scrawny little necks until they never leave you again.
She had dressed the same as she always did when travelling to the Heavenly Emporium, a long white gown decorated with bits of fur and crystals and not a scrap of footwear. She had never had any reason to wear shoes before, and now that there was no one in all of Kirigakure that could tell her what she should and should not be wearing, she felt a moral responsibility to do whatever she damn well pleased. She had arranged for a meeting room to be made available in the Diplomacy district of the Heavenly Emporium, and she made her way there immediately. The crates were carried by some workers that she tipped generously. As a Yuki she understood the importance of paying off those that you intended to use again. She directed them to leave the crates in the corner of the room, and she fought down the urge to open them up once the workers had left. Staring lovingly at dead bodies was among her favourite pastimes, but just like the decorating of ice coffins, was frequently looked down upon by other people.
Sitting on a cushion at the long low table, she would curl her feet under herself and wait for whoever was supposed to arrive from Kumogakure. She had sent a letter to open talks of peace, but she didn’t know precisely who she was meeting with. She played with her white blonde hair as she sat and conversed in her mind.
‘Maybe he’ll come.’
‘Perhaps he will, my Queen. If he doesn’t, remember that we cannot kill people here.’
‘I know, I know. I don’t like it, but I don’t know if we can afford to be forcibly removed from here now. So for now, I will be peaceful.’
Her internal conversation with Jareth was rife with sarcasm. The idea of her being ‘peaceful’ was about as ridiculous as fish walking. The ‘he’ she spoke of was Tamwyn. She had been hunting him since that fateful day when she had awoken in the hospital and he was nowhere to be found. At first she had been angry and hurt, but now she found the process enjoyable. In the same way one might find duck hunting enjoyable. You know approximately where they are and how to catch them, and you can sleep soundly knowing that if you decide to go after them, you can wring their scrawny little necks until they never leave you again.