Sapphire Ambassadors

Hatsuki stood at the shrine, as she had in whatever one was handy many evenings before now. She clapped, rang the bell, tossed the coin. Prayed to the Fortune of pregnancy and childbirth.

Please, let all of us be healthy. Give me the luck for my family's propensity for twins to run true.

Then, to Benten.

I don't know how it would be done. I don't know if it's even possible. But I want my child to be able to call their father that. Or at least for us to be close enough to know him, if not for who he is to them...

She didn't count on Benten for much - she mostly seemed to like messing with them more than anything. But who knew? Maybe it was all just a long game. A long sigh, and she stepped away from the shrine and a little ways away to take in the sunset.

A severe-faced young man enters the Shrine, approaches the altar, claps, rings, tosses, and kneels. The motions are somewhat rigid, as if unfamiliar or unaccustomed. For the moment, he does not speak aloud, except perhaps to mutter some prayer under his breath.

His clothes proclaim him an Akodo. The ink-stains on his hand proclaim him a scribe or a scholar.

She noted him as he entered, bowing, but didn't interrupt his prayers, simply observing out of the corner of her eye. She would wait until he was finished to address him.

Akodo, huh?

The Akodo completes his prayers, not rushing, but not extending them unduly, either.

He feels the gaze of the Shosuro on him, looks on her a moment, and bows a shallow greeting. "Akodo Yakuwari trusts Shosuro-san has eaten rice today," he says, somewhat stiffly, but not impolitely.

"Indeed I have, thank you," she replied, returning the bow with grace and the slightest ghost of a smile. "I hope that Akodo-san has, as well. Are you an artist here for the event, as well?"

"I am here for the event, yes," Yakuwari replies. "But I am not competing. Rather, my master, Ikoma Botan, has sent me to document this event. Ikoma-sama is of the opinion that there will be momentous events here, or that this event will give rise to such. Accordingly, I will observe and record, both of which will be hindered by participation."

He cocks his head slightly. "I did not catch Shosuro-san's chosen name."

"My deepest apologies, Akodo-san." She gave a deeper bow to reflect that and mentally kicked herself. She must still be off her game from earlier. "Shosuro Hatsuki. An honor to meet you."

"Momentous, hmm? There should be quite a collection of talent here. It makes sense."

"And Shosuro-san is among the talented competitors? Has she met many of them today?" Yakuwari asks, hands twitching as if to write.

She nodded. "Hai, I am. A makeup artist. I did meet Bayushi Choudai-san and Isawa Soichiro-san, and I know Doji Nadeshiko-san will be here, as well. It's been quite nice having the chance to meet so many."

"Those are not yet familiar to me," Yakuwari replies. "I look forward to seeing their performances--and Shosuro-san's."

He pauses, considering.

"Shosuro-san seems to be familiar with those she notes from more than chance meetings," he says.

"Ah, thank you, Akodo-san. As to that, Doji-san is s distant cousin, and a friend," she replied with a shrug. "Bayushi-san I'm less familiar with, but we did meet a few times back at the Painted City."

She fluttered her fan. "Isawa-san is wholly new to me, though."

Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?

Yakuwari nods, clearly committing her comments to memory, a historian's assistant at his work.

"Ikoma-sama will appreciate the detail provided," he says. "My thanks."

He swallows heavily as he pauses. After a moment, in a somewhat quieter voice, he adds "Shosuro-san would not happen to know any...Imperials...here, by chance?"

There is a hint of flush creeping up from his collar.

Iiiiiiinteresting... This could be fun.

She smiled to herself, fan fluttering up as she watched his reactions. "I haven't met any yet, but is there anyone I should keep an eye out for? My art does rely on knowing a wide variety of faces, after all."

"Erm, well..."

Yakuwari trails off, clears his throat.

"Shosuro-san is kind" he manages, somewhat stilted.

She'll use it against you says something inside him. Don't show weakness.

"Of course," she accepted with no sign of awkwardness herself. Drawing attention to his would be the height of rudeness. "Shall I let you know if I meet one? You seem like you're looking for someone."

Yakuwari gives a tight smile.

"I've had instructors who would comment that I've found someone," he says.

She'll do something to her. Can't let that happen.

"But your meaning is taken, and the offer is kind. A town of this size, though, it should not be hard to find anyone here."

"Instructors love lines like that." A small, amused smile. "Fair enough. Best of luck in your efforts, then."

She let it drop. That's too cute. Still, clearly timeto change the subject.

"Is there anything you're looking forward too seeing over the course of the time you're here, Akodo-san?"

Yakuwari shrugs slightly.

"In truth, I am not certain what to expect," he says. "This is a new event, after all, so what happens here is apt to become tradition. Too, while I have seen martial contests, I am not certain how an artistic one would work.

"Art is not apt to leave the same mark on a person as the blade, after all."

"That's true. Regardless of the outcome it'll be interesting participating in the formation of new traditions."

Of course, what arts win, whether they favor traditional or unusual, will also become a tradition. I can't let the traditionalists win.

"Ideally, good art should mark the mind, and excellent art should mark the soul."

Yakuwari considers for a bit before replying.

"Many things mark the soul," he says. "Surely the fact of it cannot be all there is to art."

But given what the histories say, perhaps some considered themselves artists in the eighth century whom few kindly remember now.