We’re back with more of ‘Downtime’ as part of our 100 subscribers celebration! This series focuses on our characters as they have some time to themselves in Hirosaka, as well as their relationships with one another.
This chapter takes a look at our Cranes, Eiko and Hajime, and explores the bond that exists between them in spite of differences in status, duties and personality.
Eiko has been able to make a remarkable amount of progress on his writing in the time since Minoru left him to his own devices. A lesser man would have let the embarrassment of almost being caught out get to him, and would not have such a neat stack of paper growing steadily on his desk. A lesser man would not be as focused in his endeavors, and would have let the close call plague him all day and night, slowing progress on his latest masterpiece.
Sakai-no-Doji Eiko is not a lesser man.
So far the story is going well. The handsome protagonist has given one of his trademark rousing speeches to his allies, and a particularly antagonistic rival of his was tricked into admitting her own guilt in orchestrating a plot against him, which in a few chapters’ time will lead to her inevitable downfall.
It’s been a very cathartic afternoon.
It’s a feeling he’d love to bask in a little longer, maybe by laying out the structure for those future chapters, but he knows he has to take a short break to keep his mind sharp, and the stack of paper finds a home in his hidden drawer. He locks it properly this time, secreting the key away in his clothing, and slowly rises to his feet. It’s with no great joy that he realises just how stiff he is from all that sitting, hunched over his desk writing for hours on end, and that his arm hurts. Clearly he’ll have to amend his morning stretching routine if it’s not suiting his needs.
(He tries not to think about the fact he’s getting closer to thirty, because there is no force on this earth that will make him submit to the ravages of age and the inevitable back pain that comes with no longer being a twenty-something.)
He runs through a few extra stretches before he exits his room, making note of the ones that feel most effective, and glides gracefully toward the tables in the communal area. He’s met by a middle-aged man whose only job seems to be tending to the immediate needs of the samurai who have rented out the floor, and within about ten minutes Eiko is back in his room with a pot of tea and a plate of higashi, content as can be. Even the sounds of footsteps on the stairs and two easily-identifiable and mildly drunk voices laughing in a nearby hallway don’t disturb him, because Eiko is pretty certain his colleagues are going to leave him alone for the rest of the day.
Sometimes Eiko is wrong.
He hears one voice thank the other for bringing her chair up before it fades down the hall, but does not hear anyone going after her. Then there’s a loud sigh outside his door, and Eiko finds himself holding his breath as he waits for the person to move on. Instead, his door flies open at an alarming speed as Hajime strides in, completely unannounced, and flops unceremoniously onto the ground about half a foot from Eiko’s desk. The shock is enough that the courtier has to put a hand over his heart and take a second to compose himself, which Hajime, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice.
“Let’s play Go,” his clanmate says, as if skipping over even the most basic rules of etiquette were somehow acceptable. As close as he is, Eiko can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he holds back a disappointed look as he settles himself back into his seat. Even the most cursory glance lets him know that Hajime is mostly sober - he isn’t swaying, giggling, or dozing off in the way one might expect - but it means he can’t call him out on his behaviour quite as much as he’d like to.
“Asahina-san,” he starts, looking at Hajime sternly. “You are aware that it is impolite not to knock, yes?”
To his credit, Hajime does look a little embarrassed at that, and stares at the floor as he carries on the charade. “Sorry. I, um, must have forgotten. Sake, eh?” He looks back up at Eiko with a poor excuse for a winning smile, which he holds in place until the courtier lets out a deeply resigned sigh.
“Indeed,” Eiko says, and flicks some hair over his shoulder. “Very well. You know where the board is.”
And Hajime does. They all play games together when they get the chance to, with Go being the one that they can all agree on (or so they claim - Eiko suspects it may be the only one Minoru and Hajime know how to play). It means that the board has seen better days, but there are plenty of memories attached to it. As much as Eiko might love to purchase a more beautiful set for when he has a proper house, with proper guests, he will likely never throw this one aside.
Once everything is set up, the two fall into their usual habits, with Eiko remaining impassive and stony-faced as Hajime quietly tries to surprise him with the moves he chooses. Sometimes it works, but Eiko never shows it, and instead attempts to distract his opponent with idle conversation.
“How was your breakfast? Or, I suppose it would be more apt to call it lunch, given the time of day.” He’s surprised to find himself asking that. He’d been fairly certain he didn’t care earlier in the day, when he’d been left alone in the tent to clean up by himself (not that he had).
“It was a strange combination of the two,” Hajime says, staring intently at the board. There’s a slight tremble in his voice, Eiko notices, and none of the enthusiasm he’d expect from someone who has always loved good food. Interesting. Hajime doesn’t seem to realise that he might have given anything away, and slides a piece across the board. “They had sweets, too. It was nice.”
“Perhaps I will have to visit some time,” Eiko says, considering the move. “Where was it you went to, again?”
“The House of the Porcelain Heron, but-” and at this Hajime turns and grips his elbow, whispering quietly to himself. Eiko looks down at the board and pretends to examine one of the pieces in his hands. He hadn’t realised just how stressed Hajime was, that he needed to stop the conversation to ground himself, and so opts to give him some semblance of privacy until he’s ready to continue.
When Hajime is done, he runs his fingers through his scalp and takes a deep breath, then continues.
“... But I don’t recommend visiting. The food was lovely, but the environment was lacking.”
Eiko purses his lips, his mind immediately zeroing in on the most logical reason for this, and he places the piece he’d been inspecting on the board in what he believes is a ‘gotcha’ move.
“Yes, well, one’s company can have an impact on the environment they’re in.”
He doesn’t need to say it for Hajime to understand what he means, and the duelist rolls his eyes. Eiko will never understand why he feels no need to hide his tells around him, but this comes close enough to being scolded that he might even take offense. Hajime is over five years his junior, and - member of a main family though he may be - is certainly not the son of a daimyo. Or the voice of Doji Hotaru in Hirosaka, or a veteran of the court system. Or… Well, there are lots of things that separate them. In theory Hajime shouldn’t even consider such behaviour, and should just be happy knowing that Eiko is humoring his desire to play board games when he could be doing just about anything else. Yet somehow, he’s sitting there rolling his eyes at Eiko’s suggestion that Yuzume might have been bad company.
“Thankfully Soshi-san and I didn’t have to share a table with anyone we didn’t know, so the company was fine,” Hajime finally says, taking one of Eiko’s pieces. There’s a moment where Eiko wonders if he’ll press the subject, but his clanmate seems determined not to talk about what happened to unnerve him so much, and instead moves on. “How has your afternoon been? Have you found time to relax?”
“I am always relaxed, Asahina-san,” Eiko says gently, and places a piece that he hopes will set up an eventual decisive victory against his opponent. “And as to your question, I spent much of the afternoon practicing my brushwork, then later on, Bayushi-sama and I had a most enlightening conversation about literature. I was in the middle of a break when you… suggested a game.”
Hajime just smirks, and places another piece.
“And I’m thankful that you thought it was a good suggestion,” he says, as casually cheeky as ever. As though he’s not here because something happened today that’s left him too upset to be alone, thinking Eiko can’t see it written all over him. “What was it that you found so enlightening?”
“Bayushi-sama and I both enjoy the new crime thrillers by Akodo Ujina,” Eiko says, with all the casual confidence of someone who knows he can’t be pressed on it further because Minoru said that everyone else liked his work, too. “I don’t think either of us expected it of the other, is all.”
Eiko waits for the colour to bloom on Hajime’s cheeks as he makes another move on the board, but the Asahina seems unfazed, only studying the game in front of them. It actually takes him long enough that Eiko decides to stop neglecting his tea before it gets too cold, and that’s when Hajime strikes.
“I think their smut’s better.”
Oh, but Eiko’s glad he’s not at court, or in front of Miya Sora, or worse, at home with his parents. His tea sprays everywhere, and he bends off to the side, coughing and wiping the liquid from his face, hoping none of it got on his clothes.
“Asahina-san,” he begins, after a few more moments of trying to compose himself after spluttering so impressively into the floor. “That is not an appropriate topic of conversation, do you understand?”
Hajime manages to at least pretend to look bashful.
“Sorry, Doji-san,” he says, and scratches the back of his neck. “Clearly the sake is still affecting me.”
“Clearly,” Eiko grumbles, and clears his throat to survey the damage to the board. Luckily he managed to aim the tea mostly to the side, and there is definitely some on Hajime’s sleeve, but he doesn’t feel particularly upset about that at the moment. Then, something catches his eye, and he looks up at Hajime with the kind of expression one usually reserves for a child who’s been caught avoiding their chores.
“Asahina-san,” he begins, gesturing to a set of pieces on the board. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that you had swapped these around?”
At least Hajime has the decency to look genuinely sheepish, but it doesn’t stop him from chuckling back, rather than apologizing. “Well, it’s not like I was going to win after that last move you made…”
“Such tactics are beneath us, Asahina-san,” Eiko chastises, and straightens his back in an attempt to look more authoritative. “You have been spending entirely too much time with our Scorpion colleagues if you believe that such behaviour is acceptable.”
“I-”
“Let me finish,” Eiko says, not even giving him the chance. “If you want to pull off something like that, then next time you’re going to have to be far more subtle.”
Hajime raises an eyebrow at him, slowly, and Eiko continues, as though he has said nothing controversial in the slightest. And he hasn’t, not really - he’s just leading up to his point in an enticing enough way that he knows Hajime will pay attention. He’s an author, for the kami’s sakes, he knows how to pander to an audience.
“If you want the pieces to be placed somewhere more advantageous, then moving them yourself won’t work at all. Someone will notice, and you will be called a cheater. Instead, you must get inside their heads; let them make a move that will lead to your victory,” he says, smile thin, expression smug. He knows exactly how to play Hajime, and teaching him a lesson for his behaviour today is just an added bonus.
“Samurai are always eager to find flaws in those around them. For example, we Crane are often closely observed to ensure our virtues match our reputation; that they might find a flaw in our decorum,” he says, tilting his chin up slightly as he reaches for a piece on the board. He’s exposing his neck, pale and vulnerable, for just as long as can be considered polite, and he doesn’t need keen hearing to pick up the slight hitch in Hajime’s breath a few feet in front of him. Knowing he has him right where he wants him, Eiko smiles a little wider and quickly places the previously-swapped pieces to their original positions on the board. Then he lowers his head to make his actual move, one designed to bait Hajime into a quick loss.
Hajime is obviously distracted enough that he barely even notices what Eiko did, and he manages to pry his eyes away from him for just long enough to spare the board a cursory glance. He doesn’t make a particularly well-thought out move, and in no time at all Eiko has captured most of his pieces.
At the end of the match, Hajime shakes his head, as though the loss has snapped him out of his transfixion. He looks down at the board and frowns, picking up each piece and recreating the game in reverse, looking for an answer to some question he never thought he’d have to ask.
“I don’t understand,” he murmurs. “You shouldn’t have been able to make that last move after I…”
“After you cheated and moved those pieces around?”
“If we’re calling it that, yes. But it isn’t as though you moved them back,” Hajime insists. “I’d have noticed if you-”
Eiko waits for it to sink in, and looks over to the side, counting down in his head. Exactly on cue, he hears him shout, “You moved them back? When??” and allows himself a chuckle.
“When you were focusing on other things, Asahina-san,” Eiko says, raising an eyebrow. “The kinds of things that you could easily persuade other opponents to focus on if you put a little thought into it.”
The shade of scarlet Hajime’s cheeks turn as he realises he was caught staring is enough to make lesser men blush right back. That he stammers an apology for his behaviour this afternoon might have a lesser man considering going easy on him. Or perhaps indulging him, the way his colleagues always do.
But Sakai-no-Doji Eiko is not a lesser man.
“It seems I have a lot to teach you, Asahina-san,” he says, and as Hajime breaks into a broad grin, Eiko strikes once more, his voice much more stern than it was before. “Reset the board. If you’re serious about this, you’ll have to learn how to play the game properly, first.”
The disappointed whine Hajime lets out, he thinks as he looks back at his desk, almost makes up for the fact he’s had to abandon his writing for the day.
Almost.
