An onsen and shopping? It’s like all my anime filler episodes have COME AT ONC- (gets slapped to the First)
Eh, it’s frivolous, but I had fun. : )
All Achiyo-related flashbacks can use Parting Ways as their soundtrack.
Chapter 51: When the War Is Over
Chapter 52: Going Home
Setting sail the next morning was as quick and efficient as even Chuchupa could have hoped for, though Urianger showed up at the last second to give a gift to Alisaie, a new rapier of silvery steel that would be easier for her to wield than her summoned aetherial weapon. Achiyo could see that had gotten Rinala’s hopes up, but no sign of Thancred was forthcoming before they set sail – with a remarkably full complement of passengers, for besides the eight Warriors of Light, Lyse, Alphinaud, Alisaie, Tataru, and Lilidi, there seemed to be a number of rogues in green caps who looked like pirates but not part of the crew, and a Doman ninja. Rinala seemed to know all of them, and how, she had no idea. Perhaps they would explain over the next two moons.
While it took some time for Achiyo’s companions to notice any changes in her appearance in all the bustle of embarking on their voyage, when Chuchupa saw the ring on her finger – Achiyo was not wearing her gauntlets – she let out a wild yell that made Vivienne reach for her weapon, R’nyath stop flirting with Carvallain, Alisaie nearly drop her new rapier, Kekeniro actually drop his grimoire and a screwdriver, of all things, and Rinala squeak with fright. “Hey, everyone! Princess is gonna be an actual princess!” She grabbed Achiyo’s arm and began waving it around as high as she could reach, then climbed on a nearby crate and waved it higher.
“I’m not,” Achiyo tried to say, blushing, but was overwhelmed with excited chatter from the younger Scions now clustering around her. And everyone was either staring or at least sneaking glances – the crew, the rogues, Carvallain. How very awkward.
“When is the wedding?” Tataru asked. “Where will it be? Who will be coming?”
“When the opportunity arises, though it may be a long time between all our responsibilities,” Achiyo said. They had agreed to not even publicly announce it yet, not until they could be on the same continent at least. “As Lord Commander, he is required by his society to have a ceremony nearly as elaborate as for a Count of the High Houses, it would cause a great scandal if we only asked a few close friends. The Vault will be involved, and probably most of the city’s residents. I hope you all will come at least.” She didn’t really want a huge wedding, but Aymeric had at least promised to arrange it so she would not be in the spotlight the whole time.
“As fellow Scions, of course we must attend,” Alphinaud said. “It would be our pleasure.”
“Yes, congratulations,” Alisaie said. “He’s a decent man.”
“It’s so pretty!” Rinala said, looking at the ring more closely. “It’s his favourite colour, so you can always have his favourite colour with you.”
“He said it was his mother’s.”
R’nyath was grinning. “Seeeeeeee? I told you so.”
“Rude!” Lilidi smacked him.
“He did tell me so,” Achiyo said without offence. “I was afraid to believe him, even when Aymeric was… less than subtle. I was a fool.”
“You said his name!” R’nyath cried. “Good job!”
“Reportedly, that is what love makes you,” Tam said, lying flat on his back on the deck, eyes closed. “Pleased to say I’ve never been afflicted.”
“You’ve never been in love?” Rinala cried in shock. “Like, ever? But you’re so old! How!?”
“I don’t know, because my kind don’t need to mate terribly often to perpetuate the species?”
“Yeah, but ye’re weird,” Chuchupa said. “I take it that’s also where ye got that pretty flower thing on yer head, eh, Princess?”
“Yes, indeed,” she said.
“And how do you feel now that you know for certain?” R’nyath said.
Achiyo hesitated and could not restrain a beaming smile. “The happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”
Rinala hugged her. “You deserve it! I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!”
Aymeric didn’t know how to feel the next day, torn between ecstatic happiness over his engagement and gut-wrenching tension as to Lucia’s reaction. His heart in turmoil, it was all he could do to sit still, let alone write the statement he was preparing for Parliament regarding the Warriors of Light being unavailable for an indeterminate amount of time – transparency, but without compromising security on their destination and deeds. What Parliament didn’t know, Garlemald could not discover from them.
He had asked for, and Achiyo had given him, a lock of hair as a keepsake – a very traditional Ishgardian token of affection – and now it was coiled inside a locket, burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted to look at that, not paperwork. In truth, he wanted to look at her, but that wish was out of his reach right now.
His restlessness was not at all usual of him, and though his self-control might have fooled someone who didn’t know him, Lucia could tell the moment she entered that he was unsettled. “Ser? Is something the matter?”
He fidgeted with his quill for a few moments before laying it aside and steepling his fingers, trying to appear calm. Lucia had been one of his closest friends for years. This wasn’t fair to her. She’d appreciate directness. “Lucia. I’m engaged to Achiyo.”
“Ah.” She said nothing further in answer, only handed him the new training schedule. “As you asked, ser.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to keep his mouth shut, aware that somewhere behind that sternly stoic mask, something had broken inside her.
She glanced at him indifferently. “Why should you be sorry, ser? ‘Tis none of my business. By your leave.”
That was certainly the shortest time she’d ever spent in his office, and he felt awful… not that he was going back on his decision.
Five minutes later, Handeloup knocked on the door. “Ser? Commander Lucia directed me to attend to you.”
“Ah, come in.” Ever thoughtful of her, even in her pain. “I do require some assistance with these.”
Handeloup set to work, cataloguing and filing, but Aymeric could feel his questions – it was very rare Lucia asked another to take her place, and usually it involved her being either absent on a mission, or sick as a wet rat.
“Ser, may I inquire…?” Handeloup began delicately.
“Perhaps,” Aymeric answered, keeping his head down over his statement, though he was not at all seeing the lines on the page.
Handeloup didn’t interact with Aymeric as much as Lucia did, but he wasn’t stupid. He glanced at the door beyond which Lucia was… somewhere, and narrowed his eyes sidelong at Aymeric, a faint smile playing about his lips. “Did something happen with Lady Achiyo?”
“…Yes,” Aymeric said, his face suddenly and involuntarily breaking into the widest and most foolish grin of his life. He was aware it gave away everything, and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
Handeloup grinned back. “Did you propose to her, ser?”
Aymeric’s mind went blank. The silence stretched out uncomfortably between them.
“…………………………….Yes,” said the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Viscount of House Borel, Speaker of the House of Lords, Azure Dragoon for a New Age, Ishgard’s Military and Diplomatic Representative to the Eorzean Alliance, Famed For His Eloquence and Admired For His Articulate Language.
“Well, I wish you both very happy,” Handeloup said, apparently not minding his superior’s temporary dumbness.
“Thank you,” Aymeric mumbled, and gave up entirely on writing for the time being.
There was a brief and unscheduled detour in the midst of the high seas, possibly involving ghosts, to Alphinaud’s dismay, but without much incident beyond that, they made it to Kugane more or less as scheduled. Achiyo gazed at it with new eyes, trying to see what her companions saw. It was not difficult to look at it in wonder even for her; she had not been through Kugane very frequently, and it was so vibrant that it swept even her along. It was not a place of old sorrows for her, despite the circumstances of her last departure there, and she disembarked with a smile and sparkling eyes, eager to show her new friends around when they were ready.
It took a little while for them all to recover their land legs, and while Oboro and Jacke and crew bid them farewell and set off into the city at once, the Scions lingered near the Misery, staying in the middle of the quay so as not to accidentally sway into the water.
“Congratulations,” Carvallain said to them with his customary sardonic politeness. “You now stand in Kugane, the western port of Hingashi. Regrettably, the only port in this nation open to foreign trade. Oh, and I do apologize for the unforeseen difficulties which befell us during our journey. Needless to say, your assistance in overcoming them was much appreciated.”
“Not at all,” Achiyo said. “It was delightful to stretch our legs for a spell, even though it was in such necessity. I wish you a smooth journey back.”
Carvallain glanced at the other Scions. “I know I have no need to tell you this, Lady Achiyo, but for the others: myriad delights await you, should you elect to explore and experience – assuming you are sufficiently open-minded, that is. I, alas, cannot afford to linger…”
Alphinaud nodded. “Glad though I am to have arrived, I would remind you all that we are far from home, with limited resources at our disposal…”
“Duly noted, Brother,” Alisaie retorted. “I shall take care not to enjoy myself. In any event, Doma is our final destination, and our first order of business should be to secure passage there.”
“That should not be terribly difficult,” Achiyo said. “There is trade between Doma and Hingashi, and merchants always glad to increase their profits by taking passengers along with their cargo.”
“Hmm,” Alphinaud said. “Ere we seek passage, then, mayhap we should first seek our friends. ‘Tis like that Yugiri and Gosetsu were forced to come here for the selfsame reasons we were.”
“Leave it to me, Alphinaud!” Tataru cried, striking a pose. “Making friendly inquiries is my specialty. Lest you forget, I got plenty of practice in Ishgard! Captain Carvallain, could you direct us to the nearest tavern?”
Carvallain chuckled. “Desperate for a drink, are we? You may find one in that large building just beyond the pier. Whether your journeys have come to an end or are about to begin, the Shiokaze Hostelry is an ideal place to rest, relax, and reflect. Or so they say.” He touched the brim of his hat. “And with that, my dear Scions, I bid you farewell. As soon as we have replenished our supplies, we must away. Ours was ever a fast-moving business.”
“The ‘spice trade’, you mean?” Alisaie asked archly.
“But of course,” Carvallain replied. “Surely you did not think I travelled halfway around the world and delivered you to your destination solely out of the kindness of my heart?”
“Perish the thought,” Alisaie said tartly, and yet with much more goodwill than she’d had at the start of the journey. Carvallain had confided to Achiyo that Alisaie would make an excellent pirate if she were so inclined. “Thank you, Captain, and may the Navigator watch over and keep you.”
Achiyo led them along the dock in the direction of the city, but they had hardly gone a dozen steps before Vivienne suddenly staggered and it was not from losing her balance over her sea-legs. She put a hand to her head.
The Echo swam into clarity; a Hingan village market, it seemed, bright and lively. It took Vivienne a minute to find the subjects of the vision. But there was a very young Achiyo, in rather shabby Hingan clothes, looking at a market stall full of jewellery; what her actual age might be, Vivienne could not tell, she did not know Au Ra children. But her horns and tail were very short, almost stubby. The Warrior of Darkness stood beside her – no, it could not be him, this man was older, his hair longer and more unkempt, his face unshaven, and he wore different armour. “You like flowers, huh?” he asked, in accented Hingan, translated by the Echo.
“I like sakura,” child-Achiyo said, also in Hingan, in a much higher voice than she had in the present. She turned away from the market stall.
The mercenary stayed. “Which one?”
Achiyo pointed. “We can’t afford such a thing…”
“I didn’t ask if we could afford it, I asked which one you like. How much do we have?”
She told him, and he shrugged. “Let’s do it anyway. I’ll take this one, ma’am!”
Achiyo opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but before she could get a word out, the mercenary had dropped a floral hairpin into her hands. It looked kind of like the one she was now wearing from Aymeric. “There you are,” said the mercenary. “Pretty flowers for a pretty little girl.”
Achiyo’s face lit up with delight as she examined it, before pinning it to her ubiquitous white headband and looking up at the mercenary with happy confusion. “But you never buy frivolous things.”
He shrugged. “I don’t buy them for myself. Kind of kicking myself for not thinking before now that maybe you’d like a few material possessions now and then, just because I have to live frugally. But life should be enjoyed, and if having a pretty ornament makes you happy, then it’s worth the cost.” She smiled happily. “See, it’s already worth the cost for me.”
Little Achiyo blushed, and he smiled.
“What did you see?” Alphinaud asked them, as Vivienne blinked her way back to reality. Alisaie looked questioningly at him, and he explained to her: “I believe they’ve had an Echo.”
“Wha- who was that?” Chuchupa demanded. “Looked like the Warrior o’ Darkness!” So it wasn’t just Vivienne who’d had it.
“I’m sorry?” Achiyo said.
“You were a child,” Vivienne said to her. “A man bought you a flower hairpin like the one Aymeric gave you.”
“Oh,” Achiyo said, and a brief flash of pain crossed her face. “That was Percival, the man who raised me. Why did the Echo show you that?”
“Oh, no wonder ye were so screwy when we fought ‘im,” Chuchupa said. “Havin’ to fight a guy who looks like yer dad…”
“He is not my father,” Achiyo said, in the tone of someone who had said that same sentence innumerable times before.
“Well, close enough, right?” R’nyath said. “If he raised you? He’s the one who taught you to fight, huh?”
“…Close enough,” Achiyo agreed very quietly, looking away.
“I don’t see why the Echo needed to show us that,” Vivienne said. “Will you be all right?”
Achiyo managed to give her a wry smile. “I did not see the Echo. Its memory is in my mind, and it is dear to me, but it does not bother me to know it happened. Besides, I have a new hairpin from someone I love.” She reached up to touch it. But something about it still bothered her, Vivienne thought, or she wouldn’t have made that face before.
“You’re right, indeed,” Tataru said. “Come along, everyone, we can ponder your visions later, not in the middle of the street.”
Achiyo had not been to the Shiokaze Hostelry before, but it was a nice enough place – Western enough that her friends would feel comfortable, but Eastern enough to introduce them to Hingan culture. And yes, it drew a large enough crowd that she felt assured that Tataru would easily learn many and more things without hardly trying in the coming days.
“By the Twelve… I thought Ishgard remarkable, but this… We are certainly not in Eorzea anymore,” Alphinaud remarked in astonishment, gazing up at the towering wooden jointwork. Achiyo looked up, and certainly it was impressive, but she was more impressed by Ishgard – though she would be the first to admit Kugane was far more resplendently coloured.
Tataru giggled. “Hee hee hee! A tavern is a tavern, Alphinaud, here or anywhere else! Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to do what I do best!”
“Then I shall begin making preparations for travelling to Doma,” Achiyo began.
“But you can’t!” R’nyath cried. “You’re the local, you have to show us around! We’ll find passage later, it’s not a big deal like you said.”
“But Alphinaud said we should focus on the mission…” Rinala began uncertainly, but she was looking about with a curiosity that told Achiyo she really wanted to follow R’nyath’s suggestion.
“One day won’t make a huge difference,” said Aentfryn of all people. “Even two. I will focus on the search while you go about the city.”
“It’s your first time here, have fun,” Vivienne said. “I’m with you, Zwynswaensyn.”
“If you are certain,” Achiyo said to them. “I hate to leave you out.”
“I suppose I can’t stop certain of you from telling us all about it later,” Vivienne said, trying not to look like she cared. “Look, I am not immune to Kugane’s charms… but I can see them later.”
“Then you will need these,” Alphinaud said, and handed them each a sheet of paper, on which Achiyo caught a glimpse of both Yugiri and Gosetsu. He had an entire stack of these sheets, no doubt to hand out to everyone else later.
“Ooh, very nice,” R’nyath said, peeking over Vivienne’s elbow.
“It’s like when we were looking for Thancred,” Rinala said. “I kept mine.”
Alphinaud coughed. “I’m flattered…”
“Right, then,” Vivienne said. “Let’s get started. Have fun, you lot.”
Achiyo nodded decisively as their friends headed out. “Then the first thing I suggest – after attuning to the aetheryte – is a visit to an onsen.”
“What’s that?” Lilidi asked. “A market?”
“Not at all,” she said. “A bathhouse, with large open-air pools filled with naturally-heated water. I am longing to bathe after over two months at sea. And before you worry, they are very reputable places for health and relaxation – only in the pleasure district will you find any of… less respectable qualities. Perhaps you could liken them to the facilities of Camp Bronzelake, though most are not so elaborate.” And she’d spent a good deal of the sail time training, keeping her skills honed; in the summer heat, she had gotten very sweaty daily. She would have to fight Zenos again eventually, after all.
“Oh…” Alphinaud wavered. “Yes, that does sound like an excellent notion. I will join you for this, at least.”
“Eh, pass,” Chuchupa said. “I’m hungry. I’ll scope out summat to eat on me own. Catch ye later?”
“We should meet here for dinner in…” she checked the sun. “Three bells.”
“Huh,” Kekeniro said, opening the strange new grimoire he’d been working on across the voyage. “I didn’t really notice before, but this chronometer is off.”
“How can you tell?” Lilidi asked.
Kekeniro tapped something in his hybrid Allagan-Eorzean contraption, and some numbers appeared in one corner. “I’m not sure what bell it is here, but my grimoire says it’s the sixth bell at home – dawn, not the middle of the afternoon. I’m sure I set it accurately before we left. I wonder why?”
“A mystery for another time, my friend,” R’nyath said, putting his hands on Kekeniro’s shoulders and herding him along. “Come, come, let’s go see this ongseng.”
“Onsen,” Achiyo corrected.
She sank into the hot water in the women’s pool and sighed in relief. “It has been too long.” Even before, as an orphan or a poor mercenary, she had visited public bathhouses regularly, or bathed in streams and lakes deep in the untouched wilderness where Percival led her – though not all of those were heated. In Eorzea, she had kept herself clean, of course, but she had missed having proper facilities – making do with barrel-tubs and sponge baths was not the same, and she was too pragmatic to Teleport to Camp Bronzelake every few days for their – quite expensive – services.
And this high-end onsen in Kugane was absolutely gorgeous, with a view of the harbour from a distance that did not admit to harbour smells. She was a lot less poor now – though that was irrelevant as Alphinaud had kindly seized the responsibility of paying for it.
“This is weird being naked together,” Rinala said, sliding shyly into the pool with her arms over her chest and her fluffy tail hiding her nethers. Achiyo politely avoided eye contact until she was submerged up to her neck.
“No it isn’t,” Lilidi said, following her casually. “It’s private, and we’re all girls. No shame in having a body.”
“I understand that intellectually, and the ripples of the water hide anything important, and yet…” Alisaie was still wearing a towel as she got into the pool.
“In the public onsen, where both genders bathe together, it is common to wear bathing suits or smallclothes in the pool, and you may rent what you do not have with you,” Achiyo assured them. “Still, I am glad we came here, with the luxury of privacy.”
Lyse jumped in and gasped. “Ow! It really is hot!”
“The steam didn’t warn you?” Rinala squeaked; she had been splashed.
Achiyo put her head back and closed her eyes. The voyage had not exactly been stressful for its passengers, even when they were called upon for assistance in combat. But this moment, to relax and reset her mind before embarking on a new stage of their journey, was incredibly welcome. She could hear the voices of their male companions chatting from the pool next door, separated from them by a smooth wooden wall.
“May I ask what else you might take us to see?” Alisaie asked.
Achiyo lifted her head. “It depends who demands my attention as guide the loudest.” Tam and Chuchupa wanted taverns. Alphinaud and R’nyath wanted theatres. Tataru wanted shopping. Rinala, Kekeniro, and Lyse wanted everything. “I did not have the agency or resources to act as a ‘tourist’, as Tam calls it, when I was here before. So this is nearly as much an exploration for me as it is for you. The only true advantage I have is simply that I can read the written language without use of the Echo.”
“That is a pretty big advantage,” Lilidi said. “Though I noticed there are a lot of Eorzean signs as well, in multiple languages.”
“Hingashi may be closed to foreigners, but they do enjoy the benefits of trading all over the world,” Achiyo explained. “While we are in the places where foreigners are approved to be, they will be most gracious and hospitable, to make us as comfortable as possible… I’m sure so that we are more willing to happily spend our gil.”
“Well, I for one plan to do just that, circumstances permitting,” Tataru said. “Already the fashions I’ve seen are very fetching! Everyone wearing these brightly coloured robes like lords and ladies!”
“Did you ever wear clothes like that, Achiyo?” Rinala asked. “They look pretty simple in construction, but the fabrics… Sure, the nobles wear silk, and that’s always beautiful, but I love the patterns on the cotton robes the smallfolk are wearing too!”
“Yes, I wore clothes like that until I began learning the sword,” Achiyo said. “I did not stop wearing yukata and kimono on a regular basis until my late teens.”
“You are originally from Hingashi; will you be visiting anywhere from your past?” Alisaie asked. “Your hometown, perhaps?”
“Will they let you in after you’ve been abroad so long?” Lyse asked.
This was becoming too many questions. “My hometown is on the other great island, Kosho; it has no aetheryte and would take several days to travel to from the closest one, indeed if they let me in as you say. I do not know. I am not planning to return. I am only here to further our cause, and if we see places and people I once knew, that is… additional.”
There was something in her voice, perhaps, that discouraged further interrogating for the time being, and Tataru turned to Rinala. “I certainly plan to obtain one of these ‘kimono’, and learn to make my own. Like you said, they don’t look difficult – although those belt-sash pieces look more complicated.”
“If they cater to foreigners here, I’m sure there’s a shop that will sell us what we want and show us how to wear it, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Rinala said. “What colour are you getting?”
It should not have taken all three bells to wash and enjoy the pools, but somehow time flew by, and when they met up again, no one had accomplished anything else. Theirs was such a large party that they managed to get a private dining room at the Shiokaze Hostelry for dinner.
“Didn’t you just go for food?” R’nyath said to Chuchupa.
She puffed out her chest. “I can go fer more! Don’t underestimate a pirate’s ‘unger! ‘sides, this time Achiyo’s gonna show us what to get so’s I don’t just get seaweed.”
“Seaweed is delicious, and very healthy,” Achiyo protested. “Is that all you had?”
“Nah, nah, some luvverly battered fried shrimp, some squidy balls, but I was a mite surprised to get a bowl wi’ just… weeds. Ye like it?”
“I do,” Achiyo said, and mentally made a note not to order much wakame for the table. She was fond of it personally, and it was not expensive, but they could eat other things. They settled into their chairs around the table and she scanned the menu. “Eto… Let me see. Maki are the cheapest, so we can get a lot of them…”
“Achiyo,” said Alphinaud with a patient smile. “We can afford it, so just tell us what you think we will like.”
R’nyath burst out laughing. “Haha! Did you see her eyes widen? Did you forget we have money now?” He and a few of the others laughed – not derisively, they genuinely thought it was funny, and yet Achiyo froze, ashamed and embarrassed. Old habit had risen up unbidden.
Vivienne slammed her hand on the table, glaring at the ones who were laughing. “Don’t you dare! ‘Tis obvious you’ve never had to fill your bellies on a small purse.”
Achiyo narrowed her eyes in determination before the laughers had time to look ashamed. “In that case, there are a great number of things I wish to try! Only be warned that the small morsels we will be served will fill you more quickly than they look.” Certainly, she had eaten well when she lived at Doma Castle, but that was not Hingan cuisine, and furthermore much of the time she had travelled with Percival she had either eaten cheap food from inns or villagers, or literally “rice and whatever was in their packs cooked expeditiously over the fire”. Percival had not been much of a cook, and she had not learned much more than he could do, and actually it had not bothered her much. It had been consistent, at least.
She was going to show them how to use chopsticks, but the staff had thoughtfully brought in Western utensils when they sat down, so only about half of them made an attempt. Still, showing them was fun, and left her in giggles at Kekeniro’s look of intense concentration as he slowly managed to pick up one of a pair of dice Chuchupa had thrown on the table.
Despite her efforts to not order more than they could eat, the table was soon filled – with rice and maki and sushi and sashimi, yes, but miso and ohitashi and sunomono and both soba and udon, and yakitori, and more modern things like tempura and tonkatsu.
Lyse poked the sashimi doubtfully. “I know you said that raw fish is a delicacy, but actually seeing it doesn’t quell my doubts…”
Chuchupa grabbed it from her. “What? We eat raw herring in Limsa all th’ time.”
Tam held his sake cup up, examining it. “These cups are so small, and so are the pitchers.” He tried it. “What an unusual flavour – ah, that’s strong. No wonder the cups are small.”
“Is it very strong?” Rinala asked, sniffing hers. “I don’t think I’ll like it.”
“It’s stronger than grape wines,” Tam said. “I’ll have yours.”
“I’ve no doubt you will,” she said, and passed her cup over.
“What’s this?” Aentfryn scooped up a small dollop of green paste in a small dish next to the maki and put the entire thing in his mouth before Achiyo could stop him.
The nice thing about wasabi was that it did not leave a lingering burn once every particle was gone from one’s mouth… and nose… but still Aentfryn had a difficult number of minutes even after he spat out what he had not swallowed onto his plate.
“I was about to do that, but I thought I had better ask first,” R’nyath said, helping himself to salmon sushi and applying a smidge of wasabi, pickled ginger, and soy sauce all at once. Achiyo didn’t stop him.
“I have heard it said that food is the soul of a culture, and like the architecture and the clothing, this highlights the vast and marvellous differences between East and West,” Alphinaud said, carefully picking up udon noodles one at a time with chopsticks.
“Brother, be quiet and eat,” Alisaie said to him, twirling soba on her fork like spaghetti.
“Yeah, music is the soul of a culture,” R’nyath said. “This is pretty good too though.”
Achiyo tried a piece of unagi sushi and just about melted on the spot. The last time she had had eel was at Doma Castle, and it had been rare there as well, but one of her favourites. It was giving her great pleasure to see her friends experiencing the cuisine of her people, even if not all of it was to everyone’s taste. She wished Aymeric could try it. And what a first meal for their journey in the East! After so many sennights of increasingly stale food on board the pirate ship, it was heavenly to have food so fresh, so flavourful, and so plentiful.
The next day, Achiyo took the available Scions to Kogane Dori, the markets; more so that they could find their own way there and back from the inn they were staying at, for they scattered in all directions as soon as they got there. Walking these streets again brought back memories, and she almost – almost – felt like she was coming home. The buildings painted in scarlet and black, with lightly-curving green-tiled roofs, the rice-paper summer partitions and wave-patterned drapes, the scents of cedar and kara-age and ocean, the babble in many languages including her mother tongue. The chimes of street performers, a taiko drum demonstration that sent reverberations straight to her sternum, the brilliance of a passing maiko or two, the glower of a stern Sekiseigumi on the street corner, the paper lamps overhead ready for the evening, even the very heat and humidity of Hingashi in late summer brought a smile of wonder and delight to her face, that the land of her birth had such a splendid city.
But no. Ishgard was her home now, cold, dry, dour, beloved Ishgard. She had even fewer friends in Hingashi than she did in Doma, and none of them so close as the strange group of Eorzeans and sundry she now travelled with. Hadn’t she heard it said “home is where the heart is”? But still, today she was in a lovely mood; she had slept very well on a nice futon, the first time she’d had a futon since she left nearly three years ago, and now she was going to fulfil one of her personal wishes for this trip.
Tataru noticed her looking for the clothing shops. “Clearly we are thinking alike. I’ll follow you, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Achiyo said; Tataru’s sense of style might come in handy. “There lies the shop where I sold my kimono to pay for passage to Eorzea. I doubt they will still have it, but mayhap they will have others. Or can recommend me elsewhere.”
“Why should you require recommendation elsewhere?” Tataru asked. “These seem quite lovely.”
“My reasons are twofold,” Achiyo said. “Firstly, I am to marry Aymeric; the wife of the Lord Commander of Ishgard ought to wear kimono as fine as any noblewoman’s gown in Ishgard, don’t you think? It’s only proper that his wife reflect his status.” In that, at least, Hingashi and Ishgard were not too far apart. “The kimono here are good, but now I think only the best will suffice, and not one that is second-hand.”
“Indeed, that makes great sense,” Tataru said. “And since they are all the same cut, an expensive one will be no less comfortable than a more modest one, correct? What is your other reason?”
“My other reason… is that Aymeric gifted me money specifically to buy one. He made me admit I missed wearing kimono, and then nothing would do but that I promise to get one.”
“Ooh, he loves you so much!” Tataru said. “Yes, shopping on the Lord Commander’s dime sounds like great fun! I’ll help you if you get stuck trying to choose.”
“What else am I going to spend it on?” he had said to her when she protested at the amount he handed to her. “I live quite frugally, compared to the income my position affords. I can spoil you a little.”
“I did not know you were so wicked as to foist your wealth off on me, my lord,” she had teased, and he had laughed.
She wondered at his definition of ‘a little’, but in any case she wanted to get the prettiest one she could and show it to him. She was unused to spending money on herself – something she had picked up from Percival, who had never spent a gil more than he had to on himself, who would be the first to call himself ‘a cheap bastard’. He saved it all for travelling and helping others, for maintaining his gear, where being cheap could be deadly, and occasionally splurging for the sake of the small girl who followed him. But spending money to please others when it also pleased her… that she could do.
She looked at the kimono there, especially the pink ones, leaning on Tataru’s analysis of colour and pattern, and Tataru did purchase some silk in dusty pink for herself, and all the accessories, relying on Hyuran-child-sized pieces as much as she could. Achiyo was impressed by her taste; Tataru had been in the city less than a day, and already could see how to pair obi with a robe, which obijime would be most tasteful, what hair ornaments would complete the ensemble. Lalafell-sized tabi and geta would be more of a problem. Tataru could certainly make her own tabi, after examining a Hyuran pair, but the geta would have to be special-ordered. Hyuran-child-sized were just slightly off in proportion.
Tataru shrugged. “Of course this isn’t Sunsilk Tapestries in Ul’dah, I don’t think I’ve even seen another Lalafell since we arrived. It can’t be helped.”
Chuchupa fell in with them as they headed off, to another shop that was reputed to be for the upper class. “What’s this? Princess looks like she’s on a mission!”
“Perhaps I am,” Achiyo said, laughing. “I wish to do this at once, before the evening when I take you all to the theatre. But I don’t suppose you’d be interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested,” Chuchupa said. “I don’t know jack ’bout fashion, but I know silk!” Of course, since pirates were very violent business people, and had to know the worth of their goods.
“So do I,” Tataru pointed out. “But you are welcome to come as well. I just hope having two second opinions don’t confuse poor Achiyo.”
“I owe her fer takin’ me shoe shoppin’ ages ago,” Chuchupa said, and strolled along with her hands behind her head. “And I wanna see how fancy these can get. They seem less stupid than some Eorzean fashions and I wanna see if that holds true fer upper class folks too.”
Hachisunoha, the establishment they went to, was so exclusive, there was a warden at the door, who looked snobbishly at the three women. “Ijin are not permitted,” she said. She was dressed not as a noble, but as a servant of the highest station, and her hair was done up very traditionally.
“I am Kensaki no Achiyo, daughter of Kensaki no Tamehiro, samurai, and I seek clothing befitting my station,” Achiyo said firmly, bowing politely. “I was recommended to you by Aoisakana.”
For a moment the woman wavered as she returned the bow. “Have you proof of your identity?”
Achiyo did not wilt on the outside; she had been too well trained for that. But she had nothing at all from her parents. She moved into speaking Hingan. “I do not. My father was murdered over twenty years ago. But at any rate I am no foreigner, though my clothes are. I have been abroad for several years.”
“I apologize, Kensaki-dono,” the woman began, still in Eorzean. “But we can hardly-”
“Why’s she need proof o’ birth to spend money?” Chuchupa demanded. “Why can’t ijin get the best kimono? This is Kugane, ain’t it?”
“That is our policy,” the woman said. “Perhaps we might make an exception for a very important foreigner-”
“Have you heard tell of the Warriors of Light?” Tataru asked. “She is their leader, known as the Silver Lady.”
“No, we do not hear much of war-like foreigners here…”
“I guess savin’ the world a few times ain’t enough to count…” Chuchupa scrunched up her face in disdain. “Fine, then, she’s gonna marry the ruler o’ the city of Ishgard, and she needs the clothes to show ’em Hingans are just as classy as they are!” Chuchupa grabbed her left arm and shoved her hand with the ring forward.
“He’s not exactly…” Achiyo began. Ishgard had specifically formed a republic so they wouldn’t have a single ruler as before.
“Close enough!”
“Yes, she cannot represent herself properly to the people of Ishgard without the very finest clothes,” Tataru said. “Money is no object, of course. She was born a samurai’s daughter, and she will wed one of the most powerful men in all Eorzea. So if you don’t mind, we’d love to patronize your establishment for this purpose.”
“I… see,” the woman said, looking confused. “I shall ask my employer.”
Achiyo did not quite know what to do about her companions. On one hand, she was not comfortable using Aymeric’s influence to smooth her way – though surely he would not mind. He might even like that he had been able to help from afar. On the other hand, with just how exclusive this place was… it was probably their only hope.
Another woman came to the door, bowing. She was dressed as a noble – a noble running a shop? Well, it was a shop for nobles, and Achiyo had seen stranger things. “You are Kensaki no Achiyo-dono, I understand? I am Okeya no Maneme, the owner of this establishment. Mihata-san has explained everything. You may enter. But your friends…”
“I know we’re, er, ijin,” Tataru said. “But we’re her maids-”
“Ye’re her maid,” Chuchupa said. “I’m her lackey. To carry shite. Pfft, just imagine me in one o’ them frilly black dresses, cor! Baderon’d die laughin’.”
“Peace,” Achiyo said to them, bowing to Okeya-san. “If it is not too much trouble, they would be of great assistance to me.”
Okeya-san acquiesced, with that noble grace that never admitted to being offended, and let them all in. Achiyo stepped inside, and was nearly overwhelmed by the richness of the colours from every corner, the shimmer of the silk, the gleam of gold and silver. Yes, this had been what she was looking for; if one of these did not astonish Aymeric, then nothing from Hingashi would. She wanted to try on everything!
“Damn, Princess,” Chuchupa said when she appeared dressed in her first prospective outfit, “ye look right fancy – and like ye’d never picked up a sword in yer life.”
“Even more than when I dressed in Ishgardian fashions?” Achiyo asked.
“Oh yeah, fer sure. I saw some dollies in the market an’ ye look just like ’em.”
So she ordered a pastel pink furisode with the most gorgeous white sakura pattern, which would match her hairpin; Okeya-san took her measurements so that it could be crafted to her exactly, especially with regards to her tail. It would be paired with a mint-green obi and a violet obijime, thanks to Tataru’s eye for colours, and geta with pink toe straps. She had been reminded a little of her time learning etiquette, where the court ladies had greatly enjoyed dressing her up… and that had been one of the most fun parts of her education there.
And then the next bit of fun could begin, for now she could look for a kimono for Aymeric. Aymeric in dark blue silk, a black haori, his pale throat and collarbone highlighted by the v-shaped collar would be an exquisite picture, and one she had contemplated often during the voyage. It took a bit of description to Okeya-san to explain how tall her fiancé was, but it was convenient that Elezen were as tall as male Au Ra. But without tails, so a precisely-measured tail hole was not necessary for him, of course.
And just at the end, she added a hairpin for Lucia – a small jewelled emerald hummingbird nestled among scarlet silk flowers. She did not want her to be left out, though she feared Lucia might see it as an attempt to buy her goodwill. As for the Fortemps family… she wanted to go back to the market and find a hanging scroll painting that might capture the beauty of her homeland for them.
The kimono would be done in four moons, perhaps three if they did not have too much other work, and that was expedient – the fabrics were already dyed and patterned, ready to be sewn together, but still they must be embroidered and hand-painted by master artisans to bring the robe to its full potential. She wondered where she would be then.
Since it would be so long to wait, she could also return to the market and buy a yukata for immediate, more casual use; she had missed those too. Yukata, a hanging scroll, custom-ordering geta to complete Tataru’s outfit, a paper umbrella for Chuchupa – which she promptly put a hole in, to Achiyo’s dismay, but Chuchupa didn’t seem to care. All this took time, and before she knew it, it was time to meet the others to go to the theatre.
Rinala slipped behind a building not far from the market while the others were shopping, slightly nervous – she was in a strange city all alone for a few moments – but she was a Warrior of Light, wasn’t she? But she was an obvious foreigner; she had only seen like three other Miqo’te in all of Kugane so far – besides R’nyath and V’kebbe, who’d come with them and so didn’t count – and she was a naive young woman, and she couldn’t read the local language or speak the native tongue, even if she could understand it through the Echo, and she’d heard scary things about the Sekiseigumi.
But behind the building, she was no longer alone, for there was Jacke and Oboro – and Tsubame, unexpectedly. Jacke was dressed as he always was, but Oboro was wearing a dark-coloured kimono, and Tsubame was wearing a pretty light blue kimono. Rinala wanted one like that.
“Rinala!” Jacke cried upon seeing her. “What took ye so long? Have ye snilched the rum doxies in the pleasure district? I’m likin’ this place more and more!”
“No, we haven’t been to the pleasure district,” Rinala said, blushing. Also, she wasn’t into women. “Hello, Tsubame, it has been a long time. I hope you’ve been well!”
Tsubame smiled warmly. “Indeed, it has been too long. I am very well, thank you. Master Oboro will doubtless benefit from your presence, as he always does.”
V’kebbe came prowling around the corner to join them, tail fluffed and ears back. “What’s with all these bleedin’ seagulls? I swear, if another one takes a shite on my hair, it’ll be seagull stew for dinner tonight!”
“Are they worse than the ones in Limsa?” Rinala asked.
“So much worse!” V’kebbe hissed, combing her hair frantically with her fingers, even though it didn’t looked begrimed at the moment. “The Limsan ones know to steer clear o’ me.”
Perimu Harimu appeared seemingly out of nowhere on Tsubame’s other side. “Look out below! Underfoot’s on the scene. What’s the sitch, Jacke?”
Together, they hashed out what they knew – the scroll had been stolen from a Garlean storehouse in Doma by a cruel band of brigands who called themselves the Garnet League, led by a woman named Zakuro Brightblood. These people were so confident that they didn’t bother to hide themselves, wearing their red-robed uniforms and acting rude, though not so rude that the Sekiseigumi would have to stop them.
Jacke sighed. “All ol’ Jacke managed to whiddle is that the cove is right fond o’ her flowin’ locks. An’ that she fancies herself a cup o’ tea, makin’ the trip from the inn to the teahouse and back at least thrice a day.”
“That is most… enlightening, Captain Jacke,” Oboro said without enthusiasm. “Now, we must find a way to get our hands on the scroll before Zakuro’s client arrives – but how? We could challenge her to single combat, but the Sekiseigumi would not look kindly on that. Besides, we are shinobi, are we not? We must use stealth to our advantage. We simply need a plan…”
Jacke suddenly jumped, and slapped his knee, laughing. “Wait… that’s it! V’kebbe, yer a bloody genius – an’ so am I, I reckon. Lend me yer wattles, friends – ol’ Jacke’s got a plan!”
V’kebbe looked up. “What’d I do? Not that I’m complainin’…”
Tsubame, V’kebbe, and Perimu had performed a scene in the street to stall Zakuro long enough to Rinala to dump imitation seagull poop on her head, sending her rushing over to the public bathhouse nearby. There, Jacke and Oboro, stripped down to their smallclothes, met her in the baths once she’d cleaned her hair and flirted outrageously with her while Rinala rifled through her belongings. She held her breath as she did so, knowing full well that Zakuro would see her if she just turned around.
But she found it wrapped in Zakuro’s long coat, a narrow wooden case which she peeked inside to see a silk storage bag, which she peeked inside to see a scroll, and stuffed it neatly inside her new Tataru-made jacket. Then tiptoed away with a quick glance at the others to let them know they could leave when they wanted to.
She waited for them in the place they had met earlier, and soon enough Oboro walked around the corner with Jacke, both looking fresh and damp. She clapped her hands to see them. “We did it!” She handed Oboro the scroll box.
He smiled. “Well done, my friends! The operation was, by any measure, a rousing success.” He looked around. “That said, I have not seen Tsubame and the others… I do hope all is well.”
Jacke chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Now that was some rum fun, if I do say so meself. As for the cove, I wouldn’t fret – like as not V’kebbe and Underfoot dragged her off to yaffle on some o’ Kugane’s finer delicacies.”
Rinala nodded, giggling; she still remembered how V’kebbe had once trounced Jacke for stealing her sandwich from the Bismarck. The woman took her food seriously.
“No doubt you are right, Captain Jacke,” Oboro said, relieved. “In the meantime, let us look at this scroll. I would see just what it is that Zakuro’s mysterious employer covets so.” It took a moment to unpack it, and then Rinala helped him unroll it gently while Jacke held onto the box and the bag. Neither of them could read a word of it, but Oboro’s eyes widened. “Why, this is – are my eyes to be believed!? The forbidden mudra of summoning! I had half-thought it just a ghost story meant to strike fear in the hearts of shinobi who would stray from their path.”
“Is that different from what Kekeniro and Aentfryn do?” Rinala asked. Come to think of it, summoning even a tiny copy of Ifrit or Garuda probably ought to be considered forbidden, given just how much destruction any primal caused.
Jacke frowned. “Yer summoner friends? But that’s regular summoning, that’s common enough. So this is forbidden summoning, then? I wouldn’t know a mudra from me own grandmum, but that sounds right dangersome…”
Oboro nodded as he rolled the scroll back up. “It is indeed, Captain Jacke. The legends say that if the summoner’s focus wanes for even a moment, the monstrous beast called forth by this mudra will not hesitate to devour him whole.”
“It still kind of sounds like regular summoning,” Rinala said. What Kekeniro had described, anyway. “Where did it come from?”
Oboro thought back. “Many years ago, it was gifted from our village to the King of Doma – then sealed away, to be used only in the most dire of circumstances. But it was lost in the chaos of the Garlean invasion, and never seen again. So it has been sleeping in an Imperial vault all these years…”
Jacke raised an eyebrow as he passed over the storage containers for the scroll. “So even with this bleedin’ all-powerful summonin’ at their fingertips, the Domans still couldn’t hold off the Empire? Guess it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, eh?”
“On the contrary, we never had the chance to find out.” Oboro sighed. “Master Gekkai, who led the shinobi, deemed the risk too great and refused to employ it, even as our nation fell. Whether Master Gekkai plotted his betrayal even then, or whether he had our countrymen’s best interests at heart, I cannot say – though I would like to believe the latter. Nonetheless, it is clear that none in Garlemald knew of the scroll’s true power. And so it sat untouched until it was stolen by the Garnet League, at the bidding of some unknown master. But aside from my fellow shinobi, who out there would know of the scroll’s true power? But it matters little now. We have the scroll, and I must return it to its rightful home in my village.”
Jacke crossed his arms. “‘Fraid I can’t let ye do that, friend. I promised the Krakens I’d bring the scroll back for them, an’ I’ll not have it said that Jacke ain’t a man of his whids. After all, the scroll’s been missin’ from your village for twenty-odd summers, no? Clearly no one’s sufferin’ much. Hells, they haven’t left port yet, I can bring the Rogues’ Guild home with ’em.”
“That is hardly the issue, Captain Jacke!” Oboro protested indignantly. “This scroll is an ancient treasure -it belongs in Doma!”
“It belongs to those what found it, an’ that’s the Krakens!” Jacke glared. “Gods, if ye ain’t a stubborn bastard…”
Neither of them had so much as twitched in the direction of their daggers, but Rinala clutched her hands to her chest anxiously. “Please don’t – please don’t fight. At least don’t make me heal you.”
They looked at her with rather chagrined surprise, but a new voice called to them. “Gentlemen, gentlemen… must you make such a scene? You’re scaring your little chick. After all, strictly speaking, the scroll belongs to neither of you.” Karasu strolled up, in full armour, grinning diabolically.
“Karasu!” Oboro cried. “Wherever did you-? But never mind. Thank you for guiding us here. You may rest assured that the scroll will safely return to Doma. You have my gratitude.” He made a little bow to Karasu.
Karasu sighed very long and shook his head pityingly. “Oh, Oboro – my dear, sweet, deluded Oboro. You grow ever dimmer by the day. Do you truly believe that I do what I do for you? I did say that I was pulling all the strings in this little puppet play, did I not?” He smirked and began to pace, gesturing theatrically. “Very well, allow me to put it in words even you can understand: the scroll belongs in Hingashi – to the master I now serve. My mistake was in entrusting to Zakuro and her lackeys what I should have seen to myself from the very start. Oh well, live and learn, I suppose! In any event, allow me to propose a simple transaction.” He came to an abrupt stop and leaned forward, holding out his hand solicitously. “You hand over the scroll, and I return your friends to you with their heads still attached to their bodies. A fair trade, no?”
Jacke, Oboro, and Rinala all gasped as one; Rinala felt her stomach flip-flop with fear. “Karasu, you craven-!” Oboro burst out.
Karasu spun on his toes. “On second thought… Ahahaha! Yes, I do believe we could have even more fun. Keep your eyes and ears out, dim one – you’ll be hearing from me again soon. Oh, and don’t bother telling your Scion friends – they can’t possibly help you.” He flung down a smoke bomb and vanished.
Oboro clenched his fist. “Curse it all! And here I believed the man had turned over a new leaf after leaving Gekkai. But no, it would seem he has simply found another villain to serve.”
Jacke had a hand to his mouth, thinking hard. “Once a rook, always a rook, I reckon. An’ a sharp one, at that – Underfoot and the Stray aren’t the types to get boned so easily.”
“Or Tsubame!” Rinala cried. “Do you think I should tell the Scions anyway?”
Oboro shook his head. “As long as we have the scroll, Karasu is not like to cause our friends any harm. And yet, he is as unpredictable an adversary as they come. We must proceed with caution. Do not tell them for now, as he asks. But… would you take the scroll to keep it safe?”
“Aye, good idea,” Jacke said. “Though in this pass, it’s not ’cause either me or Oboro’d try to whiddle the scroll for ourselves. But that cove, good as he is, probably ain’t interested in messin’ with the likes o’ the Warriors of Light.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Rinala said, and Oboro gave it to her. “I guess… all we can do is wait for him to talk to us? There’s nothing we can do to prepare, is there?”
“I will do what I can to discover where our friends might be,” Oboro said. “But even with Captain Jacke’s help, it will be difficult to find much. And you have your responsibilities with the Scions.”
“I just hope I can get to you quickly when we hear more,” Rinala said, clutching the scroll box. “Good luck, I guess. I hope they’re all right.”
“Oh my word,” R’nyath gushed, as they exited the theatre, “both the hero and the heroine were too beautiful! Too brave! Too noble!”
“The heroine was just like you,” Kekeniro said to Lilidi, and she giggled and swatted him. “I’m not even a quarter as cool as the hero, though…”
“It was quite the experience,” Alphinaud said. “The stylization of character and action is very different from anything in Eorzea. The props are very realistic, and the musical instruments they play as background music are fascinating.”
“It was very romantic,” Lyse said. “Does that kind of thing happen in real life?”
“It could, I suppose,” Achiyo said. It had been a lovely story about a kind but lethal ronin given shelter by a heroic young female swordmaster, and together they forswore killing even as they fought for peace in their city. “Though anyone who was truly able to refrain from killing with those skills would be as much an anomaly here as Tam is in Eorzea.” In Hingashi, during and just after the wars? Impossible. But a sweet dream to dream.
“Pity,” Tam said. “What’s wrong with you people?”
Achiyo opened her mouth to explain and defend, and stopped. It would ruin the mood – Tam might be speaking sincerely, but he’d done it in a joking voice – and in the end, wasn’t he right?
“A lotta things,” Chuchupa answered for her, also joking. “I want more saky afore we go sleep! Wonder if t’others found Yugiri yet?”
Thus they returned to Shiokaze, to where Vivienne and Aentfryn would be waiting for them. Tataru ran a little ahead and squeaked as she nearly bumped into someone.
“Oh! A thousand pardons, my lady,” said a voice that had no trace of a Hingan accent; they all looked up, and there was a blond man in a blue kimono, dark haori, and dark glasses that completely hid his eyes. He looked at them as they looked at him, and suddenly bowed. “The Scions of the Seventh Dawn, I presume? I hope your voyage was not too trying.”
“And you are?” Alisaie asked, not in the mood for surprises.
“Ah, yes, of course! Forgive me.” The man bowed again, apologetically. He must have been in Hingashi for some time, Achiyo thought, if he were automatically bowing with every phrase. “Hancock, of the East Aldenard Trading Company, at your service. On behalf of Chairman Lolorito, I bid you welcome to Kugane, and invite you to take refreshments at our local offices.”
“Lolorito?” Alphinaud said in surprise, and no friendliness. “I was aware his interests extended beyond the borders of Eorzea, but not so far as Kugane. Regardless, I am disinclined to accept the hospitality of grinning merchants – especially those who serve a master with whom we have such a difficult relationship.”
Mr. Hancock’s reaction seemed a bit exaggerated. “My, such naked suspicion! I do hope that business with the Crystal Braves did not rob you of all faith in your fellow man. Or do you really think the chairman is plotting to drag you into another one of his grand schemes?”
Alphinaud glared. “I beg your pardon!? If you are trying to win my trust, you are failing quite spectacularly.”
“Oh dear, have I offended you?” Hancock bowed yet again. “Once again, I must apologize. Too much time in the Far East, you see. One is compelled to talk in circles around everything here, and one finds oneself longing for the invigorating candid speech of the Ul’dahn markets… though I see now that this was neither the time nor the place to indulge said longing.”
Vivienne and Aentfryn had found them, unsurprisingly with all the attention they were drawing. “Who is this?” Vivienne demanded. “What’s going on?”
“A man from Ul’dah, it seems,” Achiyo said. “One who serves Lolorito. I do not know what he wants.”
“If he wants a beating, that can be arranged,” Vivienne said, flexing her fingers, but Aentfryn raised an arm to stop her.
“If you want to fight the Sekiseigumi all by yourself, go ahead.”
Hancock made a face of alarm, yet he seemed less phased by the casual suggestion of violence than might be expected. “Might I suggest that we continue this conversation at the company offices? Too many eyes and ears here, you understand. ‘Twould be decidedly reckless to say any more.”
Alphinaud crossed his arms and stared him and his dark glasses down. “If I may favour you with the invigorating candour you apparently crave – it would be decidedly reckless to follow a man I neither know nor trust. Give me one good reason why we should accept Lord Lolorito’s invitation.”
“Now there’s the young diplomat I was told to expect!” Hancock clapped and grinned. “Very well, then, I shall explain. You understand that you are come to a most reclusive and secretive nation, yes? One whose borders are closed to foreign trade save at this single port? Then, it should come as no surprise that a great many parties have vested interests here. Merchants like myself are a given, of course, but for every one of us, you may be certain there is also an agent of a… foreign government. Many notable nations and empires have embassies here, you know – including, of course, the Garlean Empire, with whom you have such a… difficult relationship.”
“To paraphrase,” Alisaie said. “Kugane is teeming with Imperial spies, one or several of whom could now be listening to our every word.”
“Something to that effect, yes.” Hancock nodded.” Beneath this veneer of bustling trade, a war for supremacy is being waged between world powers. One might say we were standing on the front lines… just not in public.”
Alphinaud frowned. “A moment, if you please.”
Hancock spread his hands invitingly. “By all means.”
Alphinaud turned to the rest of the Scions, and they formed a rather large huddle. The boy put a hand to his head with a face of distress, shielded from Hancock’s view by Aentfryn and Tam, and spoke very quietly. “Forgive me. The mere mention of the East Aldenard Trading Company is enough to…”
“You all right there?” R’nyath asked in concern. “Having flashbacks? Want us to take over?”
Alphinaud shook his head, raising his gaze and squaring his shoulders with a deep breath. “I am fine. Truly. You need not worry.”
“I daresay you have met your match,” Alisaie said to him.
“Hardly, only… I needed a moment. What do you all think?”
“I don’t trust him one bit,” Tataru said. “And neither should you!”
“On the other hand, someone from Eorzea is likely easier to approach for most of us,” Kekeniro said. “Or is that just me being shy? He could have more reason to deceive us than a local, but I could imagine we’d be better able to see through him than through a local, too.”
“He would certainly be a better guide than I,” Achiyo said. “He has lived here a long time, and paid attention to politics as he did so. That could be immensely useful to us.”
“And if he betrays us, we send Vivienne to pummel him,” R’nyath said cheerfully. Vivienne shrugged.
“I still have my doubts, but he may have a point,” Alisaie said. “I say we accept his invitation – for now.”
They turned and approached Hancock. “Lead on, then,” Alphinaud said. “We shall go with you to speak privately.”
“Splendid!” Hancock said. “Before we set off, may I have the honour of your names? I had the description of Master Alphinaud and Mistress Alisaie, but our sources were uncertain as to who else of the Scions would actually be travelling.” He looked at Achiyo. “Though naturally, you must be Lady Kensaki! Slayer of Gods… Rider of Dragons… Saviour of Ishgard… Stealer of Pants – if some of the more puzzling rumours are to be believed.”
Achiyo immediately swung around to stare at the other Warriors of Light. Any of them might be the perpetrator of such a title, under the right circumstances. Chuchupa stared back in confusion. “Whatcha lookin’ at me for, Princess? Ye helped!”
She blinked, very confused, and then… A repressed memory from Dravania was coming to the surface, and her expression dissolved in horror. “That- no, it can’t be that.”
“Sure it is,” Chuchupa said.
“I suspect it is,” Tam said, unhelpfully.
“What?” Rinala said, even though she had been there too.
“No,” Achiyo wailed softly. The finest etiquette training in the world was no match for this humiliation. “It can’t be… That is… People know of that? The elderly dragoon and his companions?”
“I mean, the guy knew ’bout it when he woke up wi’ no pants,” Chuchupa said. “What else would he think?”
“I have no knowledge of this,” Alphinaud said in confusion. “Who would call you that?”
Achiyo buried her face in her hands, mortified almost to tears. She had not dreamed that such a misadventure would become known – or that such a ‘title’ would come of it – or that it should be attached to her – and that now all her friends would know about it. Aymeric would come to know of it. Lady Achiyo Kensaki, Warrior of Light, Stealer of Pants. Her social life was over. She could never show her face in public again. She would go into hiding in the depths of Hingashi, where no one would ever hear of her crimes, and never return. “Kami preserve me from ever crossing paths with Hildibrand Manderville again in this life or any other.”
Chuchupa had pity on her. “Tho’ yeah, I’m the Stealer o’ Pants. Stolen many a pair in me life. Achiyo’s just me accomplice one time. Can ye imagine her actually stealin’ pants?”
“You had but to say ‘Hildibrand’, and all is understood,” Alisaie said. “But that was once again uncalled for, Mr. Hancock, and I’ll thank you not to speak of it again.”
“But – but – I wanna tell the tale!” Chuchupa whined.
“And embellish to high heaven,” R’nyath said. “Worse than a bard.”
“My lips shall be sealed on the subject forever,” Hancock said agreeably. “May I say what an honour and a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, my lady. I just know you and I are going to get along famously!”
“Yes,” Achiyo said, serene on the surface, and screaming inside. “I’m sure we shall.”
Author’s note: I got to see taiko drums live recently, it was pretty cool. : )
I was really confused by the Stealer of Pants when I first got to this bit while playing, so in case you were like me and didn’t bother googling it (until I had to in order to write this chapter), it’s from the Heavensward Hildibrand quests – but it’s in the quest journal, not the dialogue, so it’s really easy to miss if you’re like me and you never check the journal.