Questions of Honor (Kiyoko, Flashback)

The evening chill outside was offset quite nicely by the warm interior of the tea house that Valen was settled into for the next little while. His black hair was down to his mid back and his red eyes perceived his surroundings carefully, always keeping a wary look out even here. His katana, the Blade of Ashes was leaning upon the wall next to his chair, easily within reach. He wore the same style black silk and satin kimono he had worn since he had been coming to the festival with the red sash where his weapon usually sat, snugly secured against him so that it was easily used in combat. However katana did not make for easy sitting when at one’s side, hence its location. Upon his table sat a steaming cup of tea and a plate of dango. One skewer having already been consumed and set upon the plate next to the others.

In one hand sat a book that he was paying close attention to, only looking up when someone entered, left, or moved so that he could refresh his memory of the room’s occupants and what they were doing. The book was titled ‘On Honor’ and the author claimed to have instilled within its pages what it meant to be honorable. Although Valen wasn’t quite understanding the differences between certain scenarios. With a mildly disgusted look on his features he would set the book aside before taking another drink of his tea. Either this book didn’t explain things well enough, or he wasn’t learned enough to really break down and understand what it was trying to say. In either case it was little more than useless to him.

Ever since he had met the Samurai, Oda, he had been trying to learn more upon the subject. As well as try to find another cup of tea that was as good as the one he had made. However thus far he had found himself with little luck in either regard. Idly he sat back and stared off into space, his mind wandering as he considered things. He wanted to speak to someone on the subjects, try to learn more about honor and valor. More about the ‘Samurai’ if he could, as the three terms had seemed entwined together when Oda had spoken of them. Taking a stick of dango up he would take a bite before taking another sip of his tea. It wasn’t as good as the stuff Oda had made, but it still wasn’t bad at all. Idly his gaze would begin to move through the occupants of the room again, committing each of them to memory.

Kiyoko was taking a well deserved rest after a very long day at the Festival. She had brought Aihi with her to celebrate Okane’s birthday, a fairly notable person within the Land of Iron and while this was not the first time that Kiyoko had brought Aihi to the Heavenly Emporium, it was the first time she’d brought the toddler to a festival.

The day had been spent with Yuka and Kiyoko chasing after Aihi as the little girl wandered through the festival with wide eyes and more energy than a small child had any right to have. There had been laughter and much food and games of all sorts until finally Aihi began to show signs of becoming tired - much to the relief of her mother and her caretaker. Yuka offered to take Aihi back to the hotel and put her to bed, which gave Kiyoko the opportunity to enjoy some much needed alone time.

Kiyoko had found her way to a quiet tea shop, and after ordering a pot of jasmine tea sat herself down in a darkened corner of the establishment. She was dressed as she usually was; a slightly eccentric looking black silk kimono style shirt, off the shoulder and clearly displaying the elaborate tattoos that covered her back - an ancient dragon with ink that seemed to cause the scales of the beast to gleam in the low light of the shop. She had matching black silk hakama and attached to her waist, though peace tied with a red cord, were her two swords; the legendary Kurosawa and her newest weapon made for her by Okane Tomi, Gaikō.

She sat there quietly as she enjoyed her tea, letting the murmuring of the tea shop fade into the background as she focused on quieting her mind and spirit after an eventful day. To an outside observer she was the picture of the pure stoicism that one might expect to see in a Samurai, and while she wasn’t seeking company she did not give off a ‘don’t come near me’ aura.

As his eyes wandered the establishment they would fall upon a dark haired woman in a corner. Two swords sat upon her waist with some sort of red cord wrapped around them and he looked at them curiously. Still, they would only hold a moment or two of his consideration before he looked back to the woman. She had dark hair, a black silk kimono shirt without shoulders and black hakama. Upon her back, although difficult to tell at times from his angle, seemed to be some kind of tattoo with gleaming ink. As he looked at the markings he could make out more of it before finally seeing it as some kind of scaled creature that he wasn’t familiar with.

She sat quietly, enjoying her tea but the feeling he got from her was definitely the same kind he got from Oda when he had met the man. Something about them both sparked a recognition of something and he wondered if she too was a samurai as Oda was. Without a word the young man would stand, collecting his sword and slipping it into his sash once more before picking up up his book and slipping it under his arm. Then he would grab his tea and small plate and move, calmly, toward the woman’s table, intent upon his expression. He had to know as he hadn’t seen anyone else give him the same kind of feeling Oda had given him and he had questions he wanted to ask.

When he reached her table he wouldn’t sit down, wouldn’t even set his things down yet. He had been working on learning more about manners and being polite, and while at times he slipped when his mind wandered for the most part he was polite enough for normal conversation. If a bit blunt and forward. So with that he would give the woman a small bow of greeting if she gave him her momentary attention before speaking. “Pardon me, but are you a samurai?” He would ask, his tone respectful although the question being very ‘too the point’. He wanted to confirm first before asking her to assist him in understanding. After all it had been a samurai who had shown him of the word honor. He figured his best chance of learning more about honor would come from another one.

[2]

Kiyoko noticed the movements of the dark haired man, but didn’t turn from her contemplations until the man approached her table. She wasn’t expecting any violence, so she didn’t move her hand towards her blades, but she did raise her dark brown eyes to meet Valen’s red ones as he asked if she was a Samurai. She didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to look over the man slowly taking in every detail she could about him. She saw his sword and recognized the craftsmanship immediately; Kiyoko was not particularly intelligent but she was an exceptional swordsman and could recognize a good weapon when she saw one. In one of his hands he also held a book with the title ‘On Honor’, and it clicked then as to why this man had approached her.

Internally she scoffed, she knew every person from Tetsumura who had attended the Festival - being that she was head of security it had been her job to ensure everyone’s safety as much as she was able to. This man was most definitely not from Tetsumura, just a tourist most likely with a sudden interest in the mysterious ancestral ways of the Samurai. Her first reaction was to tell him to piss off, but she had been attempting to be kinder as influenced by Oda’s kinder nature. She would blink once, inhale deeply and then reply, her voice carrying little inflection or tone. “Yes. Why do you ask?” She knew why he was asking, or thought she knew at least, she had already made the assumption that he was a curious tourist of some kind. With a graceful hand she would motion towards the other end of the table, indicating that he could sit if he so wished. She was very tired and not in the mood to humour people, but in this public setting she knew she represented the Shogun and the Land of Iron, and if nothing else Kensai would probably be disappointed if she were not gracious.

Her brown eyes would meet his red ones as he asked his question. However rather than answer immediately she would look him over. Her eyes fell upon his weapon, as well as the book in his hand. He had been taught thus far that people could infer things in normal, everyday conversation by looking at what someone was holding, or even doing. Or even analyzing words. He did so in combat, however he had yet to master doing it in normal conversation. Still, she would blink, inhale, and respond. Her voice held little in the way of tone or inflection. Her words were simple enough, confirmation, and a reason as to his question. She would however invite him to sit and at her invitation he would give her a small bow of thanks before setting his small plate and tea down. Motioning toward the plate and raising an eyebrow he would offer her some of his dango if she wished before speaking.

“My name is Valen Minamoto, I sparred with a man named ‘Oda Hinode’, he made tea and we spoke. It was my first time meeting a ‘Samurai’. I had never even heard of them before. He spoke of ‘Honor’ and ‘Valor’ being the pinnacles of ‘Samurai Society’ but I’m afraid I did not understand ‘Honor’. He told me ‘Honor’ is sticking to what is morally ‘right’. But what decides what is or is not ‘morally right’? He said ‘Valor’ is having the courage to protect it. Which is something more understandable. However since he and I spoke I’ve tried to find an answer to my question of morality, and ‘honor’ but have had no luck. I was hoping, seeing as he seemed to understand the concept so easily. That perhaps another samurai might as well. I suppose I’m simply wanting to understand ‘Honor’. It’s not something I’ve ever learned of before.”

All in all he would speak much more than he usually would at once in that moment. However the fact that he had no such luck thus far in figuring out the answers to his questions was frustrating. It also spurred him into talking a bit more to truly to try to explain the issue to the woman. He wanted to understand the concept, but could not. To a man like Valen, who had known nothing for the first decade and a half of life. The concept of learning was something he enjoyed very much. Knowledge was his price for his service to his Queen after all. So to find something he could not understand was driving him somewhat insane. Idly he would take a drink of his tea, the viciously scarred brand of his last slave owner before freedom visible due to the motion. His red eyes never left her brown ones as he spoke and took his drink.

[3]

Kiyoko ignored the offer of dango, she wasn’t hungry she was just tired and all she wanted was to drink herself into oblivion after a long day. Alas at that moment all she had was tea. She continued sipping her tea as Valen spoke to her, a series of questions about honour and valour, and it took her a minute before she clued in that he had mentioned her good friend Oda. Her dark brown eyes watched him as he explained, Kiyoko was not the most intelligent of people but she knew how to watch for danger. And although she had been continuously assured that there was no cause for concern in the Heavenly Emporium she didn’t believe a word of it. She was forged by violence and betrayal and it had always come from the places it would have been reasonable to least expect it. So to make up for that, she always expected it. It was a miserable existence, but it did mean she was always prepared for the worst and pleasantly surprised when someone didn’t betray her.

When Valen finished speaking she would lower her teacup and gracefully rest her hands on the table in front of her. If things were to go sour she needed quick access to her weapons to deal with it, and keeping them free of items in front of her seemed a vaguely nonthreatening way to do that. But as she saw the curious and sincere look in his eyes, she realised that she was probably being paranoid again. With a resigned sigh she would turn from him for a moment to catch the attention of a server, waiting until they approached to order something that was more her tempo for discussions such as these. “The largest bottle of sake you have. Two cups. Do not let it empty.” She would reach into her coin purse and pull out several coins, far more than the sake would be worth, and the server took them hurriedly. It was a tea shop, but knowing what she knew about Okane, there was always alcohol around.

“Valen Minamoto. I am Kiyoko Fisei, from the Land of Iron. A Samurai as you noticed. I know Lord Oda, I consider him a good friend.” At that moment the server would return with two large bottles of sake and two cups, Kiyoko would nod her thanks and then fill the cups and offer one to Valen. Whether he took it or not she would drink her own cup in a single go, refilling it immediately. “Unlike Lord Oda, I prefer the vigour that alcohol provides, I find it more enjoyable than tea. Drink with me.” It was not said as a request, although she wouldn’t care if he chose not to drink the sake. “Honour is a complicated subject. One that most Samurai spend their entire lives learning. Ordinarily I would not speak of our culture freely, but I have been commanded to be kinder to others by the Shogun. So I suppose today you are in luck Valen Minamoto. Unless you are a shinobi from the land of lightning, are you?” There was a dangerous accusation in her eyes as she asked her last question, the conversation would end immediately should he reply in the affirmative.

Kiyoko didn’t have time to sit around and wait for the befuddled child to come to his senses. So after not receiving an answer in an appropriate amount of time, she stood up from the table and left. “If you are truly interested, you can find me in Tetsumura. I suggest if you make the journey however that you behave more respectfully. Shinobi do not last long in the Land of Iron, and especially not with that attitude.” She had not described where either the Land of Iron or its capital Tetsumura were. He could figure that out, though she doubted he would. Most shinobi were cowards, and this one appeared to be no different.

[Exit Thread]