WAP 46

Their invitation opened the doors to a grand estate. A bustling town sprawled around the hillside, complete with the clanging and smoke of industry. The normal people lived with thatched straw roofs and many were outside in the sun to weave their new tatami mats. 

The procession went through the town without stopping along with the servants heading upwards. Aiko stole glances through the paper door of stoic girls hauling water up the hill, of men in foot wraps with burdens of coal. Her vision was severely obstructed by the carriage box she was in, meant to protect her from the heat of the sun and the indignity of being stared at by peasants. 

The path wound up and around and into an orderly courtyard of noble wealth. The road underneath was cut stone. The homes here were on square plots with measured green spaces, not the organic growth of homes below. The sun shone off blue clay tiled roofs. 

“It is an impressive sight,” Madara said quietly. His tone was neutral. “Please prepare to exit.”

Aiko glanced at his shadow on the other side of her transportation box. He was walking on the outside, haunting her perimeter as if there was any truth to the polite social fiction that she was a vulnerable lady. Hashirama was further back with his lady wife. The most prominent position in the parade was, humorously enough, Izuna. He was doubtless reclining in his silks as indolently as any cat might manage. He would be on full display in the late morning sun.

‘He must be so pleased to have all these strangers see how pretty he is.’

She rolled her wrists and ankles a bit to work out stiffness from the tight space and then fought a yawn.

“The lord of the manor is standing on the veranda,” Madara said quietly. “His household is with him to greet us. If there is an assassin among their number, they are not immediately obvious. He has 10 retainer samurai.”

Aiko nodded, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Opening.” 

She arranged her long robes a little better and shifted to face the right side. When the door slid open, Aiko let herself out with graceful, light movements that a shinobi career certainly made easier. She had gone all out for this in terms of aesthetics, mostly because the idea of being less flashy than Mito really did not sit well with her. No one here knew that Aiko was basically shinobi royalty as well, and it put her on edge.

There was absolutely no way for anyone to prove that her cultural dress did not include face paint and giant emeralds hanging from her ears. Her hair was hanging long and loose in a subtle boast of her strength and beauty– long hair was a beauty ideal for women, but not considered manageable for people who had to actually work. The wind tugged it out in a banner behind her as Madara took her arm in some hilarious play for propriety. 

The lord looked down the line, clearly identifying the famous shinobi and personnel there. When he reached Aiko he raised his brows ever so slightly, but didn’t let his genteel composure slip. He extended his arms to let his sleeves slip out and then gave them a speech of welcome.

Aiko let her attention slip, more interested in surveying the crowd. Their host had sent his whole household out to impress them with his wealth. His lady wife was in the 10 layers of junihitoe, flocked by other attendants and her two daughters. They had at least a hundred servants, about half of whom were men. That was a display of wealth, she knew, because you had to pay servant men more than women. 

The samurai that Madara had mentioned were easy to pick out, with their distinctive hair and swords. They were placed at even intervals around the courtyard to help with crowd control.

‘I love the optimism. What’s the point of tactics? Hashirama and Madara are monstrously strong. If they attack, tactics are not going to help.’

That was a basis for the argument that this was a genuine attempt at diplomacy from someone who was angling to be elevated in Izuna’s potential court.

Their host was a courtier, an influential man who had been out of court politics for about a year for reasons they didn’t know. Some scandal, probably, but nothing that affected his wealth and general social standing. Maybe someone else at the peak of society disliked him and had had the old Daimyo’s ear.

The guests endured a fairly long speech of welcome before they were allowed to trail inside to their rooms. Aiko hadn’t come with any personal attendants, on account of not having any, so she had been placed with the Uchiha household. 

She was stored in a plain tatami room with… honestly, there was nothing in it. Aiko opened the closet out of morbid curiosity to look at her bedding. “Charming,” she said, to the empty air.

An adjoining door slid open. An Uchiha woman leaned into sight. Chiaki? One of the guardswomen, Aiko was pretty sure. “Do you wish to rest?” she inquired. “If not, please come sit with us.”

Aiko closed her closest and gave the other woman a smile. “Thank you.” She crossed the room with the whisper of feet on woven straw, deliberately not silent. Three Uchiha women were in a room the same size as hers, but they had a small table to gather around with zabuton floor cushions. 

Oh, correction. Two Uchiha women, and the Kiroyama messenger she had once seen while sitting with the Uchiha brothers. 

‘Are they a retainer clan?’ Aiko wondered. ‘They’re independent in the modern era, but it’s not like Itachi was doing any administration. Maybe he just freed them.’

The four of them wasted some time with card games and idle gossip, but time crawled by. They could hear people moving all around them. Propriety kept them chained in their rooms– it was inappropriate to go wandering around a grand estate without escort or appointment. 

After what felt like hours, someone knocked on the doorframe. “Ladies,” Hikaku said demurely. He inclined his head to all of them. “Shall we go to eat?”

Dinner wasn’t segregated by gender. Aiko found herself with the social peak– their host, Hashirama and Mito, Izuna and Madara. Hikaku cast them all a rather grim look as they parted. He probably wished he could be at the high table to manage his cousins. 

The conversation was carefully dull, no discussion of treason or that their presence was a tacit support of a power grab.

When they all went back to their rooms for the evening, Mito led them to a single room to debrief.

“I think that his offer is legitimate,” Hashirama suggested. He seemed optimistic about it. “He will never be forgiven for hosting us by the former Daimyo’s family, so his only recourse for their favor would be to kill us all. I doubt he believes his clan to be capable of that.”

Aiko pursed her lips but did not speak. It felt too simple.

“There could be any number of machinations in the court,” Mito warned.

‘I am honestly surprised they disagreed in public. Aren’t couples meant to have a public front?’

Aiko subtly looked around. No one else seemed to think that was unusual. Huh. She pursed her lips. So that was some kind of different historical sensibility in play.

“And there may be more military allies than we noted,” Izuna added. He brushed hair off his forehead. “This household is suspiciously large. Twenty of the staff might be Hyuuga,” he said scornfully. “And the ladies are too fashionable for this country estate. There are kunoichi among them, or hired courtesans.”

‘...He might have been a good pick for Daimyo. He is such a bitch.’

“Surely it would be the height of foolishness to post twenty Hyuuga against the might of twenty Uchiha and Senju,” said Madara, who had clearly been up late huffing the fumes of clan propaganda. “That evidences that these negotiations are likely in good faith.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “The civilians are likely unaware of the difference in martial capacities that exist within the shinobi class,” she said as mildly as she could. 

They wound up concluding their meeting with no solid consensus. They slept in shifts, waiting for an assassin or a fire, something.

Nothing. The morning dawned with a suspicious peace.

“I don’t like this shit,” Aiko told her futon. She folded it with too much force. “I need to get out of here, and into the town.”

She had run that plan by absolutely no one, because Aiko knew damn well no one would like it. But they couldn’t stop her, either.