Cilia Empire
Spring.
Aoki Momo was in the yard with the others of her order, practicing kata with bokken. Their form would be perfection, their sensei would accept nothing less. The sensei barked numbers for the position in that stance they were to take, there was less rhythm in the order by which she called them. They had been raised to follow the order regardless of what they thought.
A warm wind blew the first indicators of a favorable season into the yard, white sakura petals. The petals fluttered about the students as they carried out the kata drills. Their arms ached from keeping their arms up in the ready position for hours but no one dared voice complaint. "Two, eleven, six..."
"Adachi-sensei," a male voice interrupted the drill and the sensei immediately dropped to one knee.
"Kneel!" Adachi barked, all the students dropped quickly to one knee, their bokken set quickly into their belts.
The young master was everything they expected from one of his station. Though dressed from head to toe in the fine silks befitting his title, the demeanor with which he carried himself was upright and dignified. Even if dressed in the garb of a peasant, his strong, broad shoulders and sharp blue eyes - the mark of heavenly blessing - would have stood out amongst them. Black hair tied into a tight, neat bun, the young man came to a standstill at the edge of their practice, and politely gestured for them to continue.
His face, though smooth with youth, was stern and strong. At least until he turned to his retinue, and the young woman among them. It was like watching the stony face of a mountain crack into a smile. A smile that he gave only to her, the princess he was betrothed to. As the warriors returned to their practice, it was clear that the young master had come here to observe, and the princess followed. Knowing little herself, he prince explained, having being raised as a proper noble to defend the empire.
It was all to rare to see the young master smile, and smile he did, regardless of how unknowing her questions were.
Aoki spared the briefest of glances upwards to catch the young master's smile. It warmed her heart to see the sun parting the clouds but she could not risk the wrath of the storm from Adachi-sensei if she was caught staring at the master so. She reluctantly lowered her eyes to the well- trodden earth beneath her feet, waiting for her sensei to return them to form.
The warm breeze continued to scattered white sakura petals across the yard in a circular motion, several petals landed on Aoki's chestnut brown hair and her brown hakamashita.
Adachi waited for the young master to give her permission to resume training, she remained kneeling, keeping her eyes to the ground in front of her in stoic deference for her station. The instructor was lean and well muscled for a woman of her age and occupation. Her features were typical of the Haesite region, jet black hair tied tightly back in a high ponytail and almond shaped dark brown eyes. Her station did not allow her the porcelain white skin of a proper noble woman and was instead sun kissed a dark tan from many days in the sun beaten courtyards of the palace grounds.
The sensei seemed to sense something amiss from her students and her eyes darted forward to one pupil in particular. Her eyes narrowed as she caught Aoki's eyes looking up for a moment at the young master. Adachi saw something in her charge's honey brown eyes that was improper. Aoki would have to be punished later.
It was then that the young master, speaking across the gap through a retainer, called for his personal guard. Aoki. It was always her, as it had been since their childhood, and perhaps, he somehow already knew what kind of trouble she had gotten herself into and sought to spare her from it. For as long as she knew him, he was wise, as befitting of someone his name; Yamato Daichi. However, anyone with unrestrained eyes and ears would know of another reason why the young master summoned her.
Aoki rose quickly as she heard her name leave the Master's lips. She hurried to him and kept her eyes down in deference, avoiding the glare of Adachi-sensei as she passed. When she reached him to dropped to one knee in front of him. "Yamato-sama."
Adachi inwardly sighed and waited for the order to continue. She looked to the retainer for the order and was given a firm nod to continue. Adachi-sensei rose and straightened, ordering the remaining students to continue, "Rise. Return to starting position!"
Bokkens were withdrawn from belts, and the students raised them as she adjusted their stances back to the perfection that Adachi-sensei and the presence of their young Master and his future bride demanded. The kata continued with renewed vigor to impress their lord.
"Rise," the young master commanded, his smile far more subdued and subtle than the one the princess received before. "I wish for you to accompany me for the time being - we won't stray far however, and do keep your bokken with you." Turning his attention away from Aoki and to the princess however, he smiled again and led the way. True to his word, they didn't stray too far. Striding into one of the empty dojos, he spoke, "Will you spar with me?" he asked Aoki, the retinue retreating to leave the three be.
As royalty, he was expected to ride on a noble steed, lance and bow in hand. The sword? It wasn't the symbol of his stature, and as such, was something of an embarrassment to draw. Yet, he did so willingly, and not as last resort as it was meant to be. The fact that the princess took a seat to watch however, said everything that needed to be said.
Aoki rose and followed a few steps behind the young Master. She stopped upon entering the dojo. She looked at him imploringly at the request. "I cannot refuse you any request, Yamato-san." She bowed deeply to him, causing the white sakura to finally fall from her hair. She moved to the center of the dojo to wait for him to join her there. "It is against my oath to harm you, so I will do my best, Yamato-san."
Amazingly enough, Daichi laughed as he took to his position.
"Quite the opposite," the young master knowingly smiled. "If you do not hurt me here, it will be the enemy's blade that harms me when I finally take to the field," he explained. Despite being of noble birth, Aoki had never known him to skirt his responsibility, and his willingness to suffer her bokken showed this. Drawing his own, the two already knew that she was the better, for as a guard, she protected him with sword. His domain was in the field with bow and lance, weapons more honorable than the shining sidearm.
Aoki bowed deeply to the young master, before turning sideways in preparation to begin. "Your will, my lord." She watched him with intent. Her posture tense. She dared to look him straight in the eyes, as their spar readied to begin. This was one of the few times the impertinence would be tolerated, if he was her opponent, for this shining moment, she could be his equal. "If the lady would give the signal, my lord?'
"Of course," he smiled at her, and then the princess in turn. Nevermind that she had to share the smile with another. It was oh-so rare that Aoki received it herself, and only behind these closed doors. It soon faded as the young master readied himself however, and the princess gave the signal. Knowing full that she was his better, Daichi took the initiative and came in at Aoki with a fierce yet elegant cut; it was the lightning tranquil cleave of one trained to fight in armor, against armor. It was a cut to take her head.
Aoki saw the shift in the light of his eyes and glided forward to meet him, drawing the bokken and blocking to blade in a single fluid movement, moving to one side and striking at his sword hand with a slight movement. Her chestnut ponytail swayed and the force of the strike shed the rest of the sakura that were stuck on her brown kimono.
As their wooden swords met, his was already moving into the next cut. Swift and clean, his hands simply moved out of the way as the sword gracefully flowed from a parry and transformed into a cut in the same movement. However, to her, it was too rigid, too firm. As Daichi was taught, he sliced at her neck. Her joints. Every spot where there would have been a silk gap in the armor - Aoki however, was taught to cut through cloth and flesh.
She flowed out of the path of his sword with a simple pivot, to strike at his head once she was out of the reach of his blade. Momo was seeking a quick end to the fight through economy of movement. The notion of harming her master conflicted with the notion of losing to him and losing the honor of being his personal guard. That fear came true as he hesitated; the bokken resoundingly struck the young master's head, the force traveling up her sword and into her arms, jarring Aoki to the bone. As the princess gasped, the yojimbo watched as he stumbled, eyes unseeing as the world blurred around him, hand held up to his head.
Momo's bound bosom pressed gently against his arm. She waited for him to indicate he was ready to stand on his own. Her heart was in her throat. "I.. I'm sorry that I hurt you, my Lord." She appraised him carefully, she did not see blood, which was a blessing. It struck Momo that she had never actually been this close to the master in her time of acting as his yojimbo.
"You are sorry for teaching me a lesson?" the young master smiled again, ony to grimace as he touched a particularly tender spot on his head. "Then I am thankful you were merely teaching me - our foes will be right to fear you." This close to him, Aoki could smell his scent of fruits and spices. If Daichi took any notice of her womanly grace, he did not show it, as he simply checked to make sure his hair was in order again. If he took notice, he held firm to his own noble role.
As must she.
Once Momo was certain Daichi was steady, she let go and took several steps away, bowing deeply. "I am not worthy of your praise, my Lord." Although she spent most of her days in the sun, her complexion was still quite fair, the pink flush across her cheeks was obvious to anyone that was looking, but it could be excused away by the effort of the spar. As a single laugh - a giggle - sounded across the dojo from the princess watching them both, the time keeper's voice filled the halls as he made his rounds, gong in hand.
"It's time, it would seem," the young master noted, putting away the wooden bokken. They were done training for now. "Come. We must meet with the emperor," Daichi explained, his expression turning more serious. Throughout the years, Momo came to know him well, and whatever this was, troubled the young master. Coming to the princess' side and helping her rise from her seat, he lead the way, the retinue joining them again as the doors to the dojo parted. "Aoki-san, you will need your sword," he observantly noted.
Aoki bowed again before quickly exiting the dojo to retrieve her katana from the rack in the main training yard. She traded the bokken for surer steel, securing it carefully in her belt before hurrying to return to her master's side, or rather to guard the way to the emperor. "My Lord." She intoned softly, bowing once again.
"Then let us be off," the young master replied.