Side Story #7: Satsuma's Farewell

<Author’s note: This story takes place before the events of Book 1.>

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Side Story 7: Satsuma’s Farewell

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■■ Yamato ■■

It was the last day of a week-long wedding here at the newly-appointed capital city. Yamato was a modern marvel in Hyugan architecture and design: houses were laid out in even, square plots of land, and every street turned at a perfect angle. Gardens of roses and irises were placed at every intersection and were meticulously maintained, especially now that the farewell parade would be marching past.

“Why’s Aunt Sakiko got to leave, anyway? Do her and Father not get along?” A young boy asked his mother, with an odd amount of insight for a six-year-old. Satsuma had a habit of asking questions that were difficult to answer—which only added to his mother’s stress.

“Stay still, Satsu-kun! I need to wrap up your obi,” his mother replied. She proceeded to fold, twist and curl the silken sash around the boy. “And she isn’t your aunt. Lady Sakiko is leaving with her new husband, Toshiaki Mukai. They’re going to live on an estate in Tonogasha...far away from us.”

Satsuma pouted as he was ordered to suck in his stomach. He had learned from his instructors that the sister of his father was his aunt, though Mother disagreed. Whatever her title was, Sakiko was a beautiful woman but one Satsuma had only seen from afar. They had never once met—the same went for his cousins and the rest of the Imperial Family.

It prompted the boy to ask a question he had asked a hundred times before. “How come we don’t get to live in the palace with Father?” Satsuma was concerned that the Emperor was upset with him, or didn’t like him anymore. It was the only reasonable explanation that came to the six-year-old’s mind as to why his father hadn’t visited in months.

“This is about your birthday, isn’t it?” The woman who went by the name of Azusa kneeled down and held her son by the shoulders. “You know how busy he is, Satsu...besides, he gave you that spinning top you enjoy so much.”

Satsuma grinned and giggled. That toy was only the first gift. His father had also given him a wood carving set in secret, that his mother didn’t know about. Determined to impress him, the boy whittled away at wooden blocks deep into the night. He had no skill but plenty of determination, and had come up with a figurine depicting a man and a child holding hands. It was a crude depiction of himself and the Emperor, and Satsuma wanted nothing more than to show it off to him.

“When did you scrape your finger? That’s the second cut this week,” Azusa shook her head as she inspected Satsuma’s hands. The scrutiny continued up to his face. “And you’ve gotten bags under your eyes as well...are you staying up past your bedtime? Do I need to find us a new maid?”

Satsuma shook his head and himself free of his mother’s embrace. He assured her that all was well, though in truth the boy hadn’t slept well for a week. The same dream came to him every night: one of being chased by a lioness, guided by a sea eagle and then carried away by a herd of bears. It made no sense and only worried his mother when he talked about it, so he no longer mentioned it.

Little did he know that the ‘Lioness’ was the title of Lady Sakiko. She was ambitious and in line to the Imperial throne, which made her as much a danger to her family as her political rivals. Just the thought of that foul woman and what she would do to a lion cub such as Satsuma made Azusa clench her necklace.

It was made of ivory and sparkled with an array of beautiful jewels. It was Seijirō’s—her husband’s wedding gift, though the two had been married in secret. She wished nothing more than to one day be free of the shadow they lived under, to join him with Satsuma as a real family.

“Let’s hurry to the parade, Satsu-kun. After we see Lady Sakiko off, I’ll buy you some taiyaki!”

■■■■

“Even after all the ceremony, it’s difficult to imagine my sister as somebody’s wife. I pray she’ll find peace...though I know she will resent me for this. For the rest of her life and beyond,” Seijirō sighed. The Emperor of Hyuga sat atop a platform built solely for this occasion, in the middle of the main street out of Yamato.

Standing beside him were two men that couldn’t look more different: the one on his left was a short, stocky fellow encased in blue armor. He was a samurai and young for his rank; at just under forty, Hizen was Head General of the Imperial Army. Though he hadn’t a single hair of grey in his beard, to mistake his relative youth for inexperience was a mistake—he was a master tactician and one of the Emperor’s most trusted advisors.

“My lord, Toshiaki Mukai served with great distinction during the Kondo War. He was instrumental in quelling the barbarian threat. Lady Sakiko is certain to find happiness married to such a war hero.”

A chuckle came out from the other man—the one on the Emperor’s right.

“You’d do well to pay attention to her ladyship’s face as she passes by, Hize-kun. You will see the face of a woman who is far from amused. War hero or otherwise, she is marrying a Southerner with no connections nor a notable family line. In truth, the Lioness is getting her claws clipped.”

The man who spoke was tall and lean and old, and wore a peppered, grey beard as well as a ninja’s shozoku. It was the ceremonial version of the garb, colored white and trimmed in gold—not meant for stealth or any practical purpose. Though Fujibayashi was so skilled that he could blend in with the clouds. Or so he would have your believe.

The trio watched on as the drums grew nearer and as the crowd grew denser. The Emperor smiled and waved at the attendees, though most actively avoided his gaze. Many of the samurai sobering from the week-long festivities were from the South, from Genfu were the old capital was but a few years ago. Men of common birth were forbidden to look upon the Emperor back then, and a few had been blinded after doing so during his father’s reign.

“But the times are changing. And for the better, I hope,” Seijirō whispered to himself. What scholars were calling the Golden Era of Samurai was beginning to end, and—through no small effort of himself, Hizen and Fujibayashi—the great, warring clans of Hyuga were broken up in all regions save for the North. Hyuga had never been more united than now.

Yet you couldn’t tell it by looking at the crowd. The Southern samurai were at one end and the local nobility were at another. Neither was fond of the other’s company, and squabbles about lodgings, curfews and cultural differences had grown throughout the week. It didn’t help that Sakiko had agents in her employ actively trying to sabotage the event.

Seijirō could do nothing but pray everything went smoothly for just a few minutes more. His sister’s carriage would pass through and Yamato would be rid of the Lioness for once and for all. He would be able to spend time with Azusa and Satsuma once again. He prayed that he could be more involved in Satsu’s life than his father was for his.

But not all prayers were meant to be answered.

When the carriage approached and the entourage passed, a ruckus from the crowd broke out. A fistfight soon turned into a brawl, and soon everything from banners to festival treats were being thrown every which way. To make matters worse, someone rang a gong just as Sakiko’s carriage came by, startling the horses.

In their path was a boy, his gaze too focused on the Emperor to see the danger. He was six years old, had long hair tied in a top knot, and looked just like his father. He was holding up a wooden figurine and smiling. Seijirō shouted out his name in fear—and there was little doubt that Sakiko had seen and overheard him. But before the Emperor could make sense of the scene any longer, his top ninja jumped on him just as an arrow whizzed by overhead. Soon all the men of his Imperial guard surrounded him.

It had been yet another assassination attempt. Hardly the first and the last Seijirō would face. Even so, the Emperor’s concern wasn’t for himself but for his son. The most wicked woman he ever knew would not let Satsuma live. He pulled the old shinobi close and gave him the last order Fujibayashi would ever hear.

“Fuji-san! Your service to me has ended. Go—protect and serve the Young Lion at any cost!”

■■■■

“Satsuma! What were you thinking?! Going out in the middle of the street...do you have any idea how frightened I was?!”

Azusa paced and shouted and did everything to release the anxious dread that now filled her to the brim. Yet it was all futile: she had locked eyes upon Sakiko’s when she pulled Satsuma to safety. The Lioness had a cold and haunting glare that stayed with her even now.

“I just...I jus’wanted, toshow’em…” Satsuma sniffled and slurred his words as tears and snot trickled down his face. He could tell how scared his mother was and that made him scared, too. But what really brought him to tears was the figurine he had dropped and lost within the chaos. He would never get to show his father what he had worked so hard on.

Azusa braced a hand against her head. She had a pulsing headache which only worsened upon hearing a knock at the door. But as a proper lady, she held back her grimace and put on her usual smile. Her voice was soft and calm, just the opposite as it had been just mere seconds ago.

“Please, come in.”

A woman slid open the door and bowed. She was middle-aged and dressed in a grey kimono and white apron, the typical uniform for a maid. Azusa and Satsuma had several to help around the house. The two were—on paper, at least—the daughter and grandson of a dead daimyo out East. It was an identity they had lived under for years.

“Lady Azusa, the young master is requested at the school. His instructors wish to see him about his studies. They’re concerned over his...missing assignments…”

The boy’s eyes went wide as he quickly pleaded his innocence, yet his mother already determined that he was guilty. And even if he wasn’t, his schoolwork would help keep his mind off the Emperor. On that measure she was jealous.

“Hurry along, Satsu-kun. Make sure to pack all your papers and ink quills.”

Satsuma pouted but did as he was told, and shortly had his knapsack tied to his back and was ready to walk out the door. Nothing made sense to him: he had turned in every assignment he was ever given, and he was ahead of all the other students in writing and reading, besides. 

Not to mention he was still reeling from the loss of his figurine. Yet even as upset as he was, he still had the good manners to pause and wave goodbye. The maid—she must’ve been new, since Satsuma didn’t recognize her—put on a wide grin while Azusa nodded and sighed.

With her son gone, Azusa proceeded to start preparing for dinner while the maid began cleaning. Though unlike the other maids she was used to seeing, this one didn’t have so much as a duster let alone a broom. All she seemed to have was a pair of shears, which she used to start trimming the main room’s bonsai.

“Are you new?” Azusa asked. “I hope everything is fine with Haruno-chan and Maki-san.”

*snip* *snip*

“I have always been a fan of bonsai,” said the maid with no name. “To care for such a tiny tree, to watch it grow before your eyes...to shape them in subtle, beautiful ways...are they not so different than children?”

The snipping grew quicker, and soon an entire branch was without leaves, sticking out oddly from the main trunk of the tree. Azusa didn’t understand the maid’s metaphor but certainly understood that she was ruining the living room’s centerpiece.

“Cease your cutting at once! Tell me your name—I shall need to report you for this! You’re obviously unqualified,” the Emperor’s hidden bride yelled. She was angry but also afraid. No maid should’ve been so skilled with shears. Watching her now, she was well-muscled beneath the ill-fitting uniform. The look of focus in her eyes was well beyond that of a house cleaner.

*snip* *snip* *SNAP*

The branch of the bonsai tree was cut cleanly from the trunk; it fell from the table to the floor, rolling towards Azusa’s feet. When she looked back up she came face-to-face with not a maid, but a kunoichi. An assassin in maid’s attire.

“I’m here to trim off an unsightly branch, Lady Azusa. For the Lioness and for the future of Hyuga: you need to die!”

Azusa screamed as the assassin charged at her, with her scissors aimed right at her heart. She stumbled back onto the floor and scrambled helplessly, screaming all the while. In her last moment, before the shears pierced her chest, she closed her eyes as a single regret came to mind: “Seijirō...I only wish I could have been the wife you deserved.”

“GuAHuck?!” came a blood-spurting cry. Not from Azusa but from her would-be assassin, for behind the kunoichi was an aged shinobi wielding a kunai now jammed into her neck. The false maid hadn’t heard him coming, though few ever did. Fujibayashi was known as the ‘Warrior of the Wind’—a deadly breeze to all enemies of the Emperor.

“You’re lucky Sakiko sent a gardener instead of an assassin after you. But she won’t make that mistake twice,” Fujibayashi grabbed a hold of Azusa and pulled her up to her feet. “Hurry and pack. We must leave here at once...where is Satsuma-kun?!”

■■■■

Satsuma was in the middle of humming a Shinto prayer when a clash of thunder broke out overhead. It was a cue for rain to burst out from the dark grey clouds above. The boy bit his lip as he braced the straps of his knapsack and started to run. Though few had ever outpaced a sudden, summer storm, Satsuma certainly tried.

Even as distracted as he was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed. The street to the school was empty—which itself was strange, considering a wedding parade had just passed through here. The evidence was on the ground: litter and half-eaten foodstuffs were blown about in an ever-growing wind.

Were it not for the rain, the city’s pigeons would be having a feast. Instead, there was only a single bird out, who didn’t seemed bothered by the downpour in the slightest. It was hardly a pigeon: it was many sizes larger, with a mighty beak and sharp talons. It’s feather were black and brown, though its tail was distinctively white.

“A sea eagle!” Satsuma shouted, recalling the bird from his dreams. As if hearing its name, the eagle looked at the boy and flew off into a side alley. The Emperor’s son decided to follow it, much to the dismay of the ninja waiting ahead in ambush. Satsuma hurried his pace and tried not to trip as he went from one alley to another, to a side-street that led to several more, down twists and turns and parts of Yamato he never knew existed.

“Eagle-san...where are...you going?” Satsuma was out of breath and his legs were sore. Looking around he recognized nothing, and the fear of being lost began to seep into him as deeply as the pouring rain. Satsuma was drenched; his top knot was undone and his long hair kept covering his eyes. Were the sea eagle any less giant the boy would’ve lost him several streets ago.

*ArrahRah*

It didn’t chirp so much as it roared, before flying up through the rafters of what looked to be a shrine. The wooden building looked old—from before the capital was moved here—and the sign atop it read ‘Lion Temple’. It was as good excuse as any to get out of the rain.

Satsuma collapsed on the floor shortly after he entered. He quickly recovered when he remembered his manners and bowed. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” he said out of habit. Though looking up there was no one in the room, and no one in the ceiling, either—the sea eagle that had led him here had vanished.

“There must be a feather around here somewhere...nobody’s gonna believe me, otherwise!”

It was dimly lit inside the shrine, which had an upstairs loft with stairs leading up to it on either side of an offering table. There was a bit of incense burning but only a single ryō was offered as a donation. It made Satsuma feel sad, as the shrines he and his mother visited were always filled with coins and jewelry.

“I bet you’d get more donations if you had a lion sculpture,” the boy wondered aloud. He was determined to make one, though more determined to seek out Eagle-san or at the very least, a feather to show off to his mother and classmates. It sent him upstairs, where it was dark and scary. But he steeled his courage and just in time, too. 

Down below the doors slid open, and a peculiar looking monk made his entrance. He was peculiar because he was holding a pair of kama—hand scythes—that farmers used to harvest crops. But as far as Satsuma knew, there wasn’t a single rice paddy anywhere near Yamato.

“Hey! Anybody in here? Say somethin’!” yelled the monk in a voice that hardly sounded saintly. Still, he was an adult and Satsuma was a good boy and decided to answer him. Though just as he opened his mouth—a hand closed over top it!

“Shh, dhat one looks like trouble,” whispered a voice from the shadows. It was an accent Satsuma had never heard before. The hand across his mouth was leathery and wrinkled, and when he turned around to see who it belonged to he could hardly make out a face at all. This person was brown, more tanned than anyone he had ever seen before.

Only after the monk left did the stranger introduce herself.

“Sorry about keepin’ you quiet, little one. Dhe name’s Ume-Ume. You see, dhat husband of mine been takin’ his sweet ole dh’ime building our house, so we’ve been stayin’ up ‘er for dwo or dhree weeks.”

Satsuma’s mouth went agape. He could only make out every other word the older lady was saying. She had almond-shaped eyes and a large lower lip, and her nose was longer than any he had seen. Were it not for her motherly smile Satsuma would’ve been terrified.

“M-my name is, Satsuma. I’m—” the Emperor’s son couldn’t finish his introduction before sneezing. He started to shiver as his adrenaline faded and as his soaked robes brought down his temperature to a chill.

Ume’s motherly instincts kicked in. “You look like you’ve been out swimming with dhe fishes! Let me get you a spare change of clothes—got a kimono for my girl she never wants to wear.”

Satsuma would soon discover why Ume’s daughter never wanted to wear these robes. They were heavier and uglier than any other kimono the Emperor’s son had ever worn. In fact, to call it a kimono at all was misleading, as it bore more resemblance to a hempen sack. It was itchy, too, but minding his manners Satsuma thanked Ume-Ume all the same.

“Arigato, Ume-san,” Satsuma bowed. “Did you, perchance, see a sea eagle fly in here? I followed it to this temple, but it seems to have vanished…”

“Dhe sea eagle? White tail?” Ume asked and scratched her chin as Satsuma nodded. “Silliest dhing I ever heard. Dhe sea eagle only lives up North, ‘til dhey were hunted to extinction long before you were born, rest dheir souls. It’s my spirit animal, in fact!”

“Spirit...animal?” Satsuma asked, never hearing of the subject before. His Shinto studies had only just begun, but the idea of having a spirit animal had far more appeal to the young boy than memorizing chants. He wondered what his was.

As if she could hear the boy’s thoughts, Ume went ahead and traced Satsuma’s palm. Since Ume’s mother had been a wise woman for the tribe back West, she had inherited some of her techniques. Fortune telling and spirit reading were among them: the latter of which she was doing now.

Until, that is, she identified the animal of this little boy: a lion, with creases deeper than any young boy should have. They signified strength and royalty, and spiritual attunement at a level that made the Kondo’s fingers tremble. Ume leapt backwards in fear before bowing low in respect. She placed her forehead to the floor and begged for forgiveness.

“Y-your Highness! Please, don’t take my eyes out! I still need dhem a few years longer! Oh, oh great Lion, please forgive dhis humble servant!”

To the six-year-old who had no perspective on what it meant to be the Emperor’s son, Ume was acting very strange. He assured her everything was okay, but the Kondo mother now acted as a servant.

“If dhere’s anything you ever need, Your Highness, I’ll help at once! My husband and his brothers—dhey helped build half of dhis city. You just tell ‘em Ume sent you, you hear? Just tell those bears Ume says you’re a lion cub!”

Satsuma nodded but didn’t understand. But a look out the window and he knew night was falling, and that Mother would be finished with supper soon. He knew he was in for a scolding, but braced his courage and left after saying his goodbyes to Ume-Ume. 

As a boy with an overactive imagination, he imagined himself like a lion charging through the fields. It helped him feel less lost—and eventually he arrived at the main street that he had recognized from the parade. He was able to retrace his steps from there.

Though even a lion had poachers to worry about, and a few suspicious looking samurai gave long stares his way. Though after seeing his peasant’s kimono they turned to each other and shook their heads. Satsuma may have been a royal lion but he was in a common cat’s fur—and it had just saved his life.

The distinctive smell of wood burning met Satsuma’s nose before he saw the smoke rise above the hill their house was on. The boy thought nothing of it until he got closer and saw the flames and heard the ruckus. Dozens of spectators looked on as men from the city guard ran up with buckets in an attempt to quell the raging flame.

“That’s...our house?” Satsuma asked, no longer feeling like a brave lion. As he approached closer he looked around for his mother, and was about to cry out for her when he spotted another familiar woman looking on at the house-turned-bonfire.

Lady Sakiko brought her war fan to her face in a vain attempt to cover her laughter. Her lips were twisted in a wicked smile. “Now this is a wedding gift, Seiji-kun. Have you any other whores you’re keeping hidden from me?”

Part of Satsuma wanted to reach out to her for help. The boy had always wanted to know the rest of his family: all the cousins and distant relatives who he had seen walking through the palace grounds. Yet something deep within him roared out, compelling him to walk away.

But before he did, he looked at his aunt once more, who had buckled over with laughter and now the crowd and her servants joined in. “Everything is burning...how can she find it funny?”

If there was any harsh truth for the boy to learn this day it was voiced aloud by the man behind him.

“Not all lions are good, Satsu-kun.” The ninja known as Fujibayashi put a hand atop the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s hurry...I must get you and your mother out of the city at once. Spirits help us if the Lioness doesn’t have every gate out of Yamato closed.”

“Fuji-sama!” Satsuma hugged the old ninja, who picked him up and carried him away. Mother was safe though his home was gone. He was about to leave the city, the palace, and his father behind.

Though he should’ve been beside himself in despair, something within him kept his tears at bay. He was sad but determined, more than he had ever been in his life. “The bear people...the Kondos, they’ll help us get out of the city. I know they will,” the boy spoke, with words so confident they caused Fujibayashi to pause.

It was an outlandish request, trusting dirtskins with the well-being of the Imperial Family, but something in the boy’s voice sounded familiar. He sounded just like Seijirō did, and that brought a smile to the old ninja’s lips.

“Alright...we’ll trust the Kondos, young master. Or should I say, Young Lion?”