Chapter Text
One of Hiyori’s earliest memories was playing ball with her older brother in the castle courtyard in the middle of spring. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Their petals fell with every sway of the wind. She remembers her mother’s bell-like laugh, her mother’s vibrant hair dancing in the wind. More than anything else, she remembers the soft ping of the shamisen, as Kawamatsu played under the blossoms.
Now as she puts her mask on and picks up her own shamisen, the curtains open to reveal Orochi's court as stray cherry petals fall on to the ground, she can feel none of the warmth she remembers. Everything she has held dear has been twisted and mangled by Orochi and his sycophants, until only a shallow imitation remains. She wonders how long it will take until she is also twisted beyond repair. How long until she forgets her roots? How long until only Komurasaki remains?
She mustn't complain. After all, her position in court gives her the power to protect what is hers. Without her protection the other women and girls will be easy pickings for any nobles that want to abuse them. So she endures.
As her song reaches its peak, she notices the newest Yakuza leader staring at her. His gaze piercing through her, another man that wants to bed her. Not that it matters. The yakuza leaders change every other week. This one will not last long enough to talk to her, let alone be let in her estate.
As she finishes her song to raucous applause, she gets up and sweeps off the stage to change into another kimono. Her attendees follow after her.
As soon as she reenters, she can feel everyone's gaze on her. They all want a piece of her. They all want the bragging rights of having the great Komuraski’s attention. For a moment she feels bitter resentment build in her gut before dismissing it. It’s not the time for that.
“ Komurasaki my love,” yells Orochi as soon as he sees her. She can feel his eyes as they wander up and down her. He takes her hand, “Come my darling sit,sit and enjoy this wonderful sake,” he says, giving her a cup. She accepts gracefully, perfectly playing the part of the honored Oiran.
From her position, Hiyori can see the entire room. Orochi sits there at the front of the room; his ridiculous crown hanging off the side of his head. His sake is spilled everywhere as he waves his cup around. They all laugh at his jokes. The other courtesans simper and fawn over him. The nobles and samurai praise their lord. Everyone is playing their role perfectly except for the man.
Hiyori can’t help but notice him. Her attention was drawn to him again and again. His blue pompadour shines in the light and his grin razor sharp. His barbs are a little too overt to not be rude. He effortlessly dances the line between arrogance and insolence. She watches as he draws people to him with his easy sort of charisma. She underestimated him. It looks like he’ll be staying after all.
Hiyori should be wary of this man. She should be afraid of the way he has slowly inserted himself into court until he has become a crucial member of it, the way he has gathered all the Yakuza under him, the way he has convinced Orochi’s paranoid mind that he is an unwavering ally.
He is but another thug that profits off of Wano and it’s misery but she can’t keep away from him. What she first thought of as lust is something much greater. He looks at her and really sees her. His gaze penetrates the depths of her soul, peeling back the layers of Komurasaki and revealing Hiyori underneath. It reminds her of the way Kawamatsu looked at her.
When he invites her to share a meal with him, she accepts. She dresses in her least flashy kimono and does her hair in a simple style. They dine in the upper levels of his estate. The evening passes pleasantly
They sit there and quietly enjoy some sake and for the first time in a long time Hiyori feels like herself. There is no façade to put on, no act to play, Kyoshiro lets her be.
When he continues to invite her, she continues to go. It’s been so long since she’s had a friend her equal. She doesn’t have to protect him; doesn't have to keep a strong front infront of him.
So she is completely caught off guard when Kyoshiro asks her, “ Have you ever heard of the White maiden’s song?”
Her breath catches in her throat, all sense of time lost. The only people that know of the White maiden, this legendary figure from her mother’s homeland, are the nine red scabbards and her family. She watches as he slowly hikes up his kimono to reveal a crescent moon tattoo. All at once it comes to her, the man in front of her is her father’s retainer Denjiro. He is quite different from the man she remembered but she isn’t the same girl anymore either.
They are in her estate, far below ground. Away from prying eyes and ears. The sound of their practice swords echo in the room. Clack.Clack.Clack.
She is sweaty and exhausted. They’ve been at it for over an hour. She goes in for a strike and is violently pushed back.
“ You can’t let your anger and frustration get the better of you Lady Hiyori. It will be your death in battle”
“ I know,” she growls out. Even after a month of training she still can’t land a single hit on Denjiro.
She lunges forward, swinging her sword in a side arc, only to be blocked yet again. They both jump back and Denjiro raises his hand to halt her.
“ Let's end this here,” he says.
“ I can continue,” she insists.
“We’ve trained enough. I don’t want you to exert yourself too much and injure yourself.” Putting it like that his choice is reasonable but it infuriates her.
“ How am I supposed to improve if I don’t train long enough?” She doesn’t yell but her anger is felt.
“ Lady Hiyori-,” he tries but she’s not having it.
“ Don’t. When you sccarbards we’re training Momo you’d be at it for at least three hours. Why can’t I do that? I’m no longer the young lady you need to protect. Orochi made sure of that. I need to be strong. If you won’t train me properly i’ll find someone else.”
Denjiro opens his mouth then closes it before looking down. In the silence of the room, Hiyori can hear her heart beating, can hear every inhale and exhale. She will not back down not on this. She needs to be as strong as possible if she wants to protect her people from Orochi and his corrupted officials.
“ You’re right my Lady. Please forgive me.”
“ There is nothing to forgive Denjiro. Just help me get stronger.”
They are slowly winding down from their session. Denjiro gives her one of his rare real smiles, the one he used to always wear before Orochi, complementing on her improvements.
It's true that slowly she's getting stronger, faster after weeks of work. Her strikes have started landing. She's better at blocking. But she's not good enough yet and it rankles her. Something must have shown on her face because Denjiro asks, " What's wrong?" His smile has been replaced with a frown.
"I'm the daughter of a samurai. I'm supposed to be good at this but I'm not."
Every gain she's had, has been through long and arduous hours of training. She remembers her father effortlessly beating his retainers in a fight. She remembers how fast Momonuske got stronger, how easy it was for him.
" Lady Hiyori, it doesn't matter who your parents are. It's by training that we get stronger. You've started later than most, so you'll just have to work a bit harder than everyone else."
She knows this but having Denjiro say it to her is still reassuring. It makes her feel like less of a failure.
They start putting away the materials used during the training. It would be careless to leave evidence in plain sight. Even if no one but her most trusted people know about this room.
" I've been thinking," starts Denjiro, " We should do something."
" What do you mean?" she asks, rolling up the mats.
" The citizens in Ebisu town, we should help them."
Hiyori looks at him incredulously, " Why? We can barely protect our own. Why risk Orochi's wrath for those people?"
" Those people are also yours my Lady. They also suffer under Orochi just like we do, " says Denjiro with more emotion than she's seen in a long while.
" How will you achieve this goal?" She asks as she puts away the training mats under the trap door.
" I'm going to smuggle them some money, so they can buy food," replies Denjiro, dropping the practice swords down the door.
" You're going to go door to door and distribute the money. Won't Orochi ask questions as to why the head of the Yakuza is doing that." Her disdain for his plan is clear.
Denjiro continues on undeterred," Tonoyasu of Ebisu town is well known and well respected. I'll give him the money during the night and he'll pass it on to those in need."
Hiyori scoffs at him," Faced with that much money what guarantee do you have that he won't just hoard it all for himself."
" Because he was the former daimyo of Hakumai, Lord Shimotsuki Yasuie."
“ He’s still alive,” exclaims Hiyori.
“ Yes, he’s helping his people and I will aid him in his endeavors.”
“ You want me to also help,”
“ Yes, together we could-”
“ No. I cannot risk it and neither should you.”
She is no longer the shogun's daughter, it’s not her responsibility anymore. She's just another person trying to survive under Orochi and keep those that are hers safe. She feels for the people of Ebisu town, she knows what it's like to go hungry but she can't risk it.
She and Denjiro stand face to face over the trap door. They are at an impasse, neither of them will budge. .
“ I will not stop you Denjirou but I will not join you.”
The late august chill is slowly creeping in. While the flower capital doesn’t get the extreme weather that Ringo gets, it still gets quite cold and the crop wield is slightly diminished. Nothing that will affect the citizens of the capital but the people of Ebisu town-. Ever since Denjiro brought up the topic a week ago, she can’t help it. Her thoughts keep turning to that town.
“ Lady Komurasaki, did you hear?”
She exhales smoke and looks at her attendant,“ About what Aiko?”
“ The Witching hour boy,” she says as she pours tea.
“ That’s just a rumor Ai,” scoffs Haru to her right.
Despite her confidence, faint tremors pass through her hand where it grips her fan tight. She’s still affected by the incident. If that lord had harmed even a hair on Haru’s head, she would have cut him down on the spot. Damn the consequences. How dare he try to imprison one of her girls? They aren’t pets to be kept forever.
Just thinking about it makes her blood boil. Hiyori takes a breath to calm herself, here in the heart of her estate they are safe. No man will enter without being properly vetted. If they try to enter anyways, they will be dealt with.
“ I think he’s real. Mai said that the people of Ebisu town were able to buy food from the capital. How would they be able to do that if the Witching hour boy hadn’t given them money?” counters Hana.
“ That doesn’t mean anything.”
The girls descend into an argument. She lets the sound wash over her, calming her. Proof that everyone is okay. She takes another inhale of her pipe and sips her tea.
“ What do you think, Lady Komurasaki?”
“ Who knows, it's too soon to tell,” she replies with a smile, much to the dismay of her kamuro who wanted her to pick a side.
Denjiro’s thefts have not gone unnoticed. In fact the entire Capital is up in arms trying to find the culprit. But no one can agree on who it could be. Orochi’s paranoia has reached an all time high. With tensions so high business has been slow, not that she minds. It’s better for her girls to stay inside. There’s less of a chance for them to get hurt.
From the rumors and whispers that the girls have heard, the people of Ebisu town have been seen a bit more in town, buying various necessities. It seems that Denjiro’s plan is working. Despite herself, she starts thinking; how easy it would be for her to get an exorbitant amount of money gifted to her by her many suitors, how that money could help so many people.
Winter has fully set in, it’s the coldest one in years. Snow has begun falling on the capital. Sitting in front of the fire, Hiyori pours Denjiro a cup of warm sake before pouring some for herself.
“ How are the people of Ebisu town doing?” she asks. Denjiro looks at her in surprise. Since that first conversation three months ago, they have never brought it up again.
“ Not well. The cold is making people sick and they don’t have the necessary clothes to keep themselves warm. This year it’s not hunger that will kill them but the cold,” he says with a downcast face.
“ We’ve been cleaning out our closets and there are a lot of clothes that are no longer of use to us,” she looks straight ahead into the fire and continues on before she can lose her nerve, “ You can take them and give them to the townspeople.”
“ My Lady, thank you.”
“ It’s nothing we won’t miss. Just make sure that it won’t be trailed back to us.”
“ Of course. It’s not my first time doing this, my Lady.”
At Hiyori’s confused look, Denjiro continues,“ Many people from the capital empathise with the people of Ebisu. Now they have a way to help them through the Witching hour boy.”
Hiyori reaches out and holds his hand,“ Promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t lose another member of my family, Denjiro.”
He grips her hand, “ You know that's an impossible promise to keep my Lady.”