Page 28 of Night of the Dragon

“So, why me?” the ronin said once more. “I’m a ronin dog, you’re the golden Taiyo. The status gulf between us couldn’t be any wider. Am I just a passing fascination? Something you wanted to pursue because your family isn’t here? Or have you gotten so bored and disillusioned of the court, you wanted to do something completely profane, just to spite it?”

“Is...is that what you believe, Okame-san?” Daisuke’s voice actually trembled. “Truly?”

The ronin let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted with a hopeless gesture. “No. I don’t believe that. It’s just...” He gazed down at the table with shadowed eyes, as if he found the reflection staring back at him wanting. “I have never felt this way before,” he murmured. “About anyone. Especially for a swaggering court peacock who should represent everything I hate about samurai. And you...you keep talking about a glorious death, Daisuke-san. Like it’s a game, something you’re racing toward, when personally, I have spent my entire life trying to survive one more day. Not to mention, I selfishly want to keep you around for as long as I can. But that’s me—an honorless ronin dog.” He sighed again, though this time it sounded sad, and glanced up at the still-motionless noble. “I’m not afraid of death, Daisuke-san,” he said softly, “but...if Iamgoing to die with someone... I want what we have to be real.”

For a moment, the Taiyo noble didn’t move. His beautiful face was expressionless, his eyes distant and unreadable. The ronin dropped his gaze again, looking down at his hands.

In one elegant motion, Daisuke rose, took two steps around the table and sank to his knees behind the ronin, slipping his arms around his neck. The other’s breath caught, and he closed his eyes as Daisuke leaned in, his lips at the ronin’s ear.

“I would not ask just anyone to die with me, Okame-san,” he whispered. “You are more than ronin. You have loyalty, courage, compassion, everything a warrior should strive for, and your honesty about the world is something most samurai are blind to. It would be an honor to meet that glorious death at your side.”

“Daisuke.” The ronin’s voice was a breath; his hands reached up to grip the noble’s arms. In the corner, Suki couldn’t move, her mind spinning like a child’s top, unable to settle on any one thought or feeling. “Maybe we won’t die,” the ronin went on in a gruff whisper. “Maybe we’ll win that battle, after all.”

“I hope so,” Daisuke murmured back. “And I will do everything in my power to ensure Yumeko-san emerges victorious. Gennowillbe defeated, and the Wish will not be used for evil in this era. But we are not the heroes of this story, Okame-san. It will be in the hands of a Shadow Clan demon and a half-kitsune peasant girl to save the empire and carry us to victory.” A wry smile crossed his face. “Any other might hear those words and despair, but I have faith in our fox girl. After everything we have seen, everything thrown into our path, I believe she has the favor of the gods themselves. I am honored to have played even a small part in her story.”

“Yeah,” the ronin agreed, and gave his head a rueful shake. “It’s been a pretty crazy journey,” he muttered. “One I wouldn’t trade for anything. But I think you’re right, Daisuke-san. I think... I think we’re coming to the end, whatever it may be. This fight for the Dragon scroll—it’s that kind of battle where not all of us are going to make it.” He sighed, leaning his head back. “I just hope the poets get my name right when they sing songs about us.” He snorted. “Ah, hell, who am I kidding? I’ll be happy if my name is mentioned in the story at all.”

“It will be,” Daisuke promised. “When they speak of us, Okame-san, it will be of the courageous ronin and the brave noble, standing against insurmountable odds, putting aside all differences in honor and status to protect the empire. Those will be the songs they will sing, Okame-san, the stories they will tell. Immortalized for all time. And in that way, we will always be together.”

“The dog and the peacock,” the ronin said, and chuckled. His arm rose, his fingers slipping into the noble’s long white hair, pulling him close. “That sounds like a terrible poem. I hope someone writes it.”

“I hope so, as well,” Daisuke murmured. “But that battle is still on the horizon. It draws ever closer, but it is not here yet.” He lowered his head, his lips brushing the ronin’s shoulder, making the other draw in a slow breath. “Tonight is for the present. For sake and memories, and thinking back on all that has brought us here. For making sure that, should Meido call to us tomorrow, we will have no regrets tonight.”

The ronin shivered. “No regrets, peacock?” he whispered.

“None.”

“To our glorious death, then.” At that, the ronin turned his head fully, meeting Daisuke’s lips, and nothing more was said between them.

Suki fled their presence, flying through the ceiling, passing rafters and upper floors, until she went out through the roof. The night sky opened before her, scattered with a million stars, a pale moon veiled in the clouds like a silver coin. She paused, hovering over the peak of the tallest roof, the valley of the Moon Clan spread before her, and tried to sift through the emotions swirling through her insubstantial form.

I loved Daisuke-sama.Suki had always known that. From the moment she’d nearly bowled into him at the Golden Palace, she had been captivated by his beauty and his charm, but mostly by his kindness. Even to a humble maid. Some would scoff, claiming that one chance meeting between two people was not enough for a soul to fall in love. Suki would disagree. She had loved the Taiyo noble, knowing it would never be reciprocated, knowing he would never see her that way, not hoping for anything save a glimpse of his smile now and again. When she died, her soul had lingered on for one purpose only: to make certain Daisuke-sama was safe. Above all, she wanted him to be happy.

And now, it seemed he had found something, someone, who could do that.

I am...happy for you, Daisuke-sama, Suki thought, surprised to find that she really meant it. She was dead; jealousy and all the strife that came with it seemed silly and rather pointless. Perhaps, according to the ghost stories her mother used to tell, if she had died with such strong emotions in her heart, that anger would manifest itself onto the ronin. But she felt no malice toward the object of Daisuke’s affection, no feelings of rage or ill will. Maybe she was incapable of it now.

I hope he brings you peace, Daisuke-sama. I am glad that you will have someone at your side in the final battle. May you both know happiness, for however long you have left.

A strange lightness filled her. For a moment, she could almost feel her bonds to the earth loosening, fading away. For a heartbeat, the world below did not seem quite so real anymore, and she sensed that if she simply stopped thinking, she would drift away into the unknown and whatever horizons lay beyond.

No.Suki shook herself, and a new resolve filled her ghostly body.It isn’t over. I can’t leave yet. Not before I know how it ends.

Overhead, the moon glimmered, and the distant halo of light seemed to beckon to her once more. Suki turned away from the sky and drifted back to the earth. Flying over the pond, leaving a trail of light behind her, she soared past the palace of the Moon Clan and disappeared into the forest.

14

Fox Magic in the Moonlight

Yumeko

It was a strangely surreal walk back to the palace. My mind felt like a swarm of moths, flitting crazily around a chochin lantern. I barely knew where I was going or what I was doing, until the servant paused in the hallway and informed me that we had reached my quarters. Inside was a small, simple room with thick tatami mats and an alcove with a tiny shrine dedicated to the kami. Through a pair of open shoji, I could see a veranda surrounding the room, and the lake beyond shimmering in the moonlight.

On the veranda, I leaned my elbows on the railing and gazed over the water, thinking back on everything that had happened tonight. All that had been revealed. It still felt like a dream. Maybe I’d imagined that whole conversation with Kiyomi-sama. All my life, I hadn’t known who I was or where I came from. But now...

“What did the daimyo have to say?”

I jumped. “Tatsumi!” I exclaimed as a shadow melted silently off the wall behind me. Tatsumi, still disguised as an old monk in long robes and a straw hat, met my gaze with that calm stoicism he did so well.

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