Hello again! As a continued part of our 100 subscribers celebration, here’s Chapter Two of Downtime, a study into what our characters get up to in their spare time, and how they interact with one another.
This chapter we’re looking at Minoru and Eiko in a moment of relative peace and quiet, something that both of them treasure for its rarity. We’ll see you next chapter to find out what Hajime and Yuzume get up to when left unsupervised!
With this unexpected gift of free time, Eiko has only a few options available to him. Normally he likes to be able to plan things out at least a day in advance; longer, if possible, since it is meant to be leisure time. It lets him make the most of any opportunities that he might want to follow up on, such as meeting contacts for dinner or penning letters to the various ambassadors the neighboring Great Clans are sending to Hirosaka. And they are relentless in sending them.
However, without the time to plan, he doesn’t want to waste the rest of the day on something that might not yield any useful results for him, and so as he walks towards the House of the Evergreens he decides that the best thing to do is get started on a new book. Yes, a quiet day sitting at his desk, going over a tale or two in his head, would certainly be relaxing. Perhaps he’ll have some tea brought over as well? And a few of those delicious snacks with the floral decorations?
Well, it couldn’t hurt to live dangerously now and again.
With a new plan firmly in place, and the beginnings of a spring in his step, Eiko arrives at his room and carefully closes the door behind him, taking in the cramped quarters he’s learned to call home since coming to Hirosaka. Space in an actual building was a hot commodity when they first arrived, and he’d actually had to sleep in a tent with his colleagues for the first few days, like some sort of… animal. These temporary rooms at the House of the Evergreens, with their uncomfortable mattresses and tiny writing desks, are an absolute luxury by comparison, and he’s been lucky enough to get one furthest from the communal area, which means less noise to distract him from his work.
He takes his time setting up the space - it has to be perfect if he’s going to make the most of the time he has - and once it’s to his satisfaction, he pulls a few sheathes of high-quality paper from a hidden compartment in his desk, a fine smile playing on his lips.
The last story had ended with the protagonists running from certain disaster in the hailstorms that had ravaged Ryoko Owari, a move that many readers may have considered cowardly if not for the long and meaningful speech one of the characters had given about the importance of their next duty, which in his mind gave the whole affair a rather heroic double meaning. Of course, now he has to start the next book in a way that calls that into question again, or there won’t be any dramatic tension until two fifths of the way in.
From the same hidden drawer, Eiko pulls out a pocket-sized copy of the previous tale, and flicks through the final pages just to properly get in the mood. He doesn’t need reminders of the finer details of the plot; not when they’re replaying in his head clear as the day he wrote them. It just puts him in the right headspace for the hobby (though he’d never admit to needing five minutes to switch out of work mode). It’s only when he puts the book down and begins to ready a brush that he hears the knock at his door, and freezes when he hears Minoru’s voice on the other side.
“Doji-san? Are you there?”
Eiko would never swear out loud, but he certainly thinks a few choice words as he shoves the book back into its compartment, too haphazardly to realise that he hasn’t shut it all the way. He takes a split-second to reset his face and get back into work mode, then turns in his seat to face the door.
“Come in, Bayushi-sama,” he says calmly, steadying his arm by the blank paper on his desk. The door slides open, and there stands Bayushi Minoru, framed by the midday sunlight. He looks somewhat relieved, and it occurs to Eiko that he may have been looking for him for some time.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” Minoru says, voice lilting into the slightest of questions, his eyes falling on the freshly inked brush in Eiko’s hand.
“Not at all, Bayushi-sama. I was merely preparing to practice my brushwork. Asahina-san informed me that we were relieved of our duties for the afternoon,” he says, offering Minoru a thin smile. It occurs to him as he says this that perhaps Hajime was mistaken, and that Minoru has sought him out for playing truant. The thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind if not for the fact the duelist had seemed so keen to get to the restaurant, and though he would surely never think of such a thing on his own, Yuzume’s involvement cast a shadow of doubt over the whole thing.
Thankfully, Minoru seems relieved at Eiko’s admission and confirms that yes, everyone has the rest of the day to themselves, which means he can absolve Hajime of the crimes he didn’t commit. With that small weight off his shoulders, the Crane invites Minoru in for a chat. It’s a game of simple courtesies - being invited in, staying for five minutes to show you appreciate the person’s offer and company, and then everyone gets to go back to what they actually wanted to be doing in the first place.
“I won’t take up too much of your time, Doji-san,” Minoru says, settling on a cushion a couple of feet away from Eiko’s desk.
“Nonsense; it’s been too long since we just had a chat,” Eiko says, still smiling. The Scorpion nods in agreement, and his eyes fall to Eiko’s desk again, this time to the partially opened drawer that contains the Crane’s secret stash of pillowbooks. His expression changes to one of mild surprise, and Eiko picks up on it immediately. “Bayushi-sama…?”
“I didn’t know you were a fan of Akodo Ujina, Doji-san,” he says, full of curiosity. “You always struck me as an admirer of more… factual works.”
He means boring legal texts, and they both know it. Still, it gives Eiko more than enough opportunity to hide any embarrassment he might feel over almost being caught out, and pushes the drawer shut with a little more force than is strictly necessary.
“One cannot discount an entire genre just because it may or may not be based in truth,” he says evenly, wondering just how Minoru would feel if he knew that their adventures were being catalogued for his latest series of works. “And I find it quite refreshing to have a short break from heavier texts by taking in an entertaining tale now and again.”
Minoru considers something in silence, inspecting Eiko’s face for the answer to some unknown question, and tips his head to one side when he lands on it. He can’t have figured it out, can he? There’s so little evidence, and Eiko knows he’s taken great pains to ensure his authorial tone is completely devoid of his own verbal tics. He steels himself for the accusation, shoulders tensing as he takes in a breath, and then Minoru speaks.
“You wouldn’t also happen to be familiar with some of their earlier stories, would you?”
He knows he should feel relief, but instead Eiko braces himself for what will certainly be an awkward and embarrassing conversation. This is going to be about The Mountain’s Peaks, isn’t it? He was so much younger when he wrote that one, and even though he didn’t regret it - or the money it made him - one bit, the thought of having to discuss its contents with his direct superior, even one he’s been friends with for years now, is mortifying.
“I am,” he says slowly, carefully. “Though my attention has been on their crime thrillers of late.”
Minoru nods a bit too quickly, and resets his posture.
“Of course, of course. It’s a wonderful series, certainly. It’s just, well… Do you remember when I told you about the time I spent with the Togashi?”
Eiko does his very best to hide the fear that this conversation is going to turn into Minoru regaling him with stories about how he attempted to recreate the plot of the raciest story he has ever written, but he’s not sure he’s doing a stellar job at it. His eyes are much wider than usual, and he can’t remember the last time he blinked.
“I do,” he just about manages. If Minoru notices his awkward shift in demeanor, he says nothing about it, and carries on.
“Well, one of the abbots gave me one of Ujina’s books; the first one I read, actually. Trials of the Phoenix?”
Ah. The one with the protagonist who uses their looks and cunning to marry into a powerful family and change the course of history. Writing it had been an exercise in wish fulfillment, honestly. Eiko knows he’ll never marry outside of the Sakai, not when he’s going to be the family daimyo one day, but in his youth he’d entertained the idea of marrying into one of the Imperial families, leaving his sister in charge instead.
He’s snapped out of pondering the dreams of a foolish younger version of himself as Minoru continues with his tale, and refocuses his attention on the conversation.
“He said that it would help me in the future,” the Scorpion says, with a small shake of his head, and lets out a gentle laugh, devoid of humor. “I thought it meant I was destined for truly great things, for a time.”
“You’re an Emerald Magistrate,” Eiko offers, raising an eyebrow.
“And I’d hope I earned the position, rather than being handed it because of my stunning good looks,” he shoots back.
He can be as self-deprecating as he likes, Eiko thinks, but Minoru has to be aware that he’s handsome. He’s never shown his whole face to Eiko - an intimacy he understands a Scorpion might not even bestow upon their spouse - but Minoru changes his masks enough that the Crane can piece together an accurate image of his face, and it’s every bit what one would imagine if reading about a Bayushi in one of his earlier stories.
Well, aside from the premature grey streaks in his hair and the fact that convincing him to shave is a multi-person, week-long effort at the best of times.
No one’s perfect.
“... You served Kitsu-sama for a long time, Bayushi-sama, and you did it well. You would not have been offered the position if you weren’t the most suited for the role,” Eiko says evenly, and smooths out the fabric of his clothes over his knees. It’s a distraction from his real feelings on the subject, if nothing else. “I doubt you’ll need to marry into a powerful family to change history, at this point.”
He pauses, then allows himself a wry smile.
“Though given Seppun Ishima’s behaviour, that book might not be too far off.”
Minoru pauses, trying to figure out what to say, and his words come out stilted as he attempts to be as diplomatic as possible. “She has been very generous with her time and resources.”
“Naturally; one would expect nothing less from the Imperial families.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“I would never.”
But Eiko has been smiling a little wider with each utterance, and Minoru can’t help but burst out laughing once the Crane stops trying to be clever. After a few seconds, sighing happily, he shakes his head and gets to his feet.
“It was good to talk like this again, Doji-san,” he says, a smile apparent in his voice, and walks toward the door. He opens it, about to head out, then leans back in, looking at the desk. “You know, I think you should tell the others about liking Ujina’s books. They’re fans too, though I don’t know if they’ve read all of them.”
Eiko can feel the colour drain from his face. “They what.”
Minoru’s eyes wrinkle, and it’s obvious that he’s grinning behind his mask.
“I lend my copies out sometimes, but if you have them too, then perhaps I might actually get mine back in a timely manner. And it would be something we could all bond over.”
“You want me to give the others my books as part of a… team building exercise?”
“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Minoru says, as reassuringly as he can. “Besides, it’s not as though I’d ask you to lend out a copy of every book.”
Minoru raises an eyebrow, and The Mountain’s Peaks hangs between them, an unspoken point in common that Eiko hopes will never, ever be acknowledged. The Crane can’t help but feel a headache coming on, and puts his face in one hand as he leans on the desk.
“I will think about discussing some of them,” he says, hiding the colour in his cheeks as it rushes back with a vengeance, and the last thing he hears before Minoru slides his door shut is the sound of barely hidden laughter, muffled behind a mask.
