Baleful

Kami, grant me strength

and wisdom, to learn today

from all my mistakes

On the day of his performance review, Yatsu was led into a large tent just beyond the boundaries of his prison camp. There, he was to meet with a Garlean officer– one that he recognized immediately. Delphi was his name, and the two of them had met before. For his part, Delphi showed neither recognition nor interest, focused as he was on a set of documents.

“We meet again, Lord Yatsu,” Delphi said, without looking up from his documents. It hurt, to hear that title used again, five years after Yatsu had lost it– his title, his house, his land, his spouse… But it was a small pain, so he believed; one that he would bear, as he had done now for so long.

Yatsu said nothing.

Delphi looked up. “Ah. Not so vocal this time.” He lowered his documents onto the table that separated them. “Five years imprisonment will do that to a man. I am informed that you’ve been a model prisoner. Well done.” Delphi smirked. “In fact, I’ve received a request to provide you with civic opportunities. It’s within my power to do so. A word from me, and you could be polishing pots in a noble’s kitchens.”

Yatsu said nothing.

Delphi leaned forward, folding his hands together beneath his chin. “This request is denied, of course. Vermin have no place in a Garlean home.”

Yatsu said nothing.

Delphi waited a moment, then shrugged. “Nothing to say? Very well.” He lifted a quill, and began to write something on one of his documents.

“Have you…” Yatsu heard the words almost before he realized his intent to speak them, and regretted it almost instantly. But, no, he must allow these words to be spoken. Perhaps it was the will of the kami. “Have you any word of my son?”

“Ah, your son…” Delphi did not look up, but instead looked over at a different document. “Yes, we didn’t bring him in with you, did we…”

“Where is he? What happened to him?” Yatsu leaned forward, his expression having drastically changed. There was a plea in his face, and in his voice. “Anything…”

Delphi did look up at this, studying Yatsu’s expression. But he said nothing. After a moment, he picked up his quill, signed a document, and then set the quill down again.

“We are done here,” Delphi announced. The guards returned, and Yatsu was led away from the tent.

Look to the mountain

From its peaks, men who look back,

we all drink snowmelt

“Rrrrrrrrrggghhh!”

At the sound of his son’s agitated cry, Lord Yatsu rushed back to the stream bank. He gathered little Hanya up in his arms, and held the boy as he wept, until the tears subsided enough for the boy to show him what had happened.

“Oh, you were folding a riverboat,” Yatsu said, impressed. “Who taught you that?”

“M-M-Mother,” said Hanya, sniffling. He reached up with both hands, to wipe the tears away, and Yatsu decided this was not the time to mention that the boy’s face was covered with mud.

It was their first day out at the stream together since the Lady had passed. Yatsu had brought paper in their basket, intending to write a poem. The paper was mangled and sodden, now, but still Yatsu could see the boy’s intent within it, and where exactly it had gone wrong.

“Look here,” Yatsu said, lifting up the mangled paper. “She taught you well, didn’t she? You have done these correctly…” Yatsu pointed to one fold, then another. “This one, though, we must do again. Then, it will work.”

“But the paper is wet,” Hanya cried.

“We have another,” Yatsu reassured him. “Fetch it from the basket.”

An hour passed, the two of them working together– with Yatsu’s practiced care serving to temper Hanya’s anxiety that he would again fail. But anxiety gave way to curiosity, and then to wonder, as the paper boat took shape.

“And it’s done,” Yatsu announced, grinning. “Look! Look at what you made.” He carefully lowered the paper boat into the boy’s open palm. Hanya gazed at it, eyes sparkling, as if he had been given the sun.

“Will it float?” Hanya breathed.

“Oh, yes.”

“But won’t it get soaked?” Hanya looked up at his father, worry in his eyes once again. This was his boat now. He was its protector, and he took his role very seriously.

But Yatsu laughed. “Doman paper is a very special thing,” he replied, smiling. “Your mother told you that, yes?”

Hanya nodded.

“It will get wet,” Yatsu went on. “But it will float. Let’s give it a try.”

They placed the paper boat upon the water, as delicately as footsteps over crystal. The stream buoyed it, then carried it away, slowly but steadily. Hanya watched it go– watched as it went further and further out of sight, finally disappearing into the mist.

“Where will it go?” Hanya asked.

“Hmm… Well. Where do streams go?”

“To the One River,” Hanya replied.

Yatsu nodded.

“But what about after that?”

“Streams flow to the river,” Yatsu replied. “Rivers flow to the sea.” He smiled. “The sea touches all the places in the world. Like the sun.”

Hanya was silent for a while after that, deep in thought. Yatsu wondered if perhaps he was imagining the paper boat sailing to distant lands, or doing battle with pirates.

“Would you like some tea?” Yatsu asked.

Hanya nodded.

The sun warms my bones

All men are tall beneath it,

and no words are cold

Fifteen years had passed since Yatsu’s first performance review with the officer Delphi. When the summons came for a second meeting, Yatsu was surprised. The man had shown so little interest in his life since that day, near as Yatsu could tell. Why now? Was not every Garlean officer occupied with matters related to the ongoing war of succession?

But Yatsu was still, technically, a prisoner– and if he was summoned, he must go. So it was that he was escorted once again into Delphi’s presence. A vehicle came, and with it, guards. They escorted him to a building, into a conference room of some kind.

Delphi was, as before, seated behind a table, with a handful of documents stacked before him. He had aged, visibly so– more than fifteen years, Yatsu would have guessed, if he hadn’t known any better.

“Sit.” It was a command, softly-spoken, but direct. It was also unnecessary, as Yatsu had already taken a seat in the chair provided for him.

“Officer Delphi,” Yatsu spoke, with a note of kindness in his voice. “It has been a long time.”

“Do not be so familiar.” Delphi shifted his attention to his documents. “I’m told you have made something of a name for yourself as a stationary supplier. You and your craft are widely admired. More than once have I received a petition for your release.” Delphi leaned back, and returned his gaze to Yatsu.

Yatsu raised his eyebrows, as if impressed with this news. Delphi laughed, bitterly.

“For a man in your position, you enjoy many comforts, Lord Yatsu,” Delphi continued. “Few prisoners are allowed to have their own apartments, and fewer still among the Domans.”

“The kami have graced me with many blessings,” Yatsu spoke, his voice flat.

“Yes, well, I am disinclined to grant you any more,” Delphi mused, “particularly in light of recent events. I suppose you are aware that the Domans have attempted a rebellion?”

Yatsu’s heart sank. He said nothing, but Delphi recognized genuine astonishment in his expression.

“Curious,” Delphi said. “So you were not aware.” He picked up his quill, and began to write.

“Why would they do this…?”

“An excellent question,” Delphi replied, without looking up from his writing. “It will be crushed, of course. I have heard rumors regarding the particulars, and I will say that I do not envy your countrymen.” He set down his quill, and looked up at Yatsu again. “But, take heart. Those who prove as cooperative as you may yet earn a modicum of Garlemald’s grace, in captivity.”

Yatsu said nothing. His mind was swirling with fresh new fears. Did Hanya still live? Had the only heir of House Yatsu grown into a revolutionary, of all things? Surely if the kami had protected his son thus far, they would keep him out of Garlean hands awhile longer…

“Well, then,” Delphi said, after a long silence. “Make your paper, sell your paper, and stay out of trouble. We are done here.”

In storms, brave man walks

When the rains come, wise man walks

into a shelter

Fog rolled over the distant hills and terraces of Yanxia, serving as a backdrop for the last puffs of steam from Yatsu’s teapot. It rested on a small table, on the highest balcony in House Yatsu– where, on this foggy morning, the lord and heir of the House knelt upon cushions.

“I believe it is ready,” Yatsu said. He lifted the pot, and poured some of its contents into his cup. Then, he poured a cup for his young companion.

“Thank you, Father.” Hanya took the small cup between both hands, and brought it to his nose, breathing in deeply. He did not sip, for the tea was still too hot to drink, but it was important to Hanya that he show the utmost respect to his host on this special day.

Yatsu nodded, satisfied. He folded his hands in his lap. “It is good to see you, my son. You said you had an important matter to discuss.”

“Ah, er…” Hanya ran his hand through his hair. “Getting right to it, eh? Ha, ha…”

Yatsu smiled, and waited, patiently.

“Well, uh, you see, Father… there is this girl…”

“Oh?” Yatsu pretended to be surprised. Any father would recognize this sort of nervous fumbling for what it was.

“A truly wonderful girl,” Hanya went on.

“Tell me more.”

“We have been seeing each other for eight months,” Hanya continued. He paused, willing his hands to stop shaking for long enough to bring the teacup to his lips. It was still too hot, but when he was drinking, he didn’t have to speak.

“Eight months! Such a long time.” Yatsu smiled. “And this, the first I’m hearing of it! We men of House Yatsu need keep no such secrets from each other.”

“Yes, well…” Hanya mumbled. “I didn’t think you would… approve.”

“And why should I not?”

Hanya was silent.

“Is she of a rival House? One of our enemies, perhaps? Enemies can become friends for the right price, my son.”

Hanya sighed. “She is… going to be a musician.”

Yatsu furrowed his brow. “A musician? I don’t understand.”

“Her family… rice terrace… in Namai…”

“Farmers? Is this a joke?” Yatsu kept none of his anger from his voice. Hanya lifted his hands, asking for peace.

“Father, I love her– I am going to ask her to marry–”

“What foolishness!” Yatsu struck the table with his palm. The teapot shuddered. “You are the heir to House Yatsu! Your name, your status, those are your only weapons in this world! Weapons I have worked hard to maintain, these many years!”

“And you have taught me, Father, taught me so much,” Hanya pleaded. “Let me speak with Lord Kaien. I swear to you, we will not lose face–”

“It is not Lord Kaien that troubles us, it is the others,” Yatsu groaned. “You will be of marrying age in two years, my son, and all expect you to marry Lady Yuuji or Lady Mitsuha.”

“Why should they not expect that I would marry for love? Are they not men, with hearts of their own?”

“They are, my son, but they have Houses of their own besides,” Yatsu spoke. He shook his head. “And so do you. I must ask you to put this commoner woman out of your mind.”

Hanya bowed his head to the floor. “Father, please– if you will meet her just once, I am certain you will–”

“Absolutely not! I will not speak of this again.” Yatsu climbed to his feet, and turned to leave.

“What of Mother, then?! Did you not marry for love when you married her?!”

“Yes! Yes, I did!” Yatsu spun around, his face contorted in remorse, and suppressed anger. “The kami took her from us! And now this House is all I can give to you. Do not… my son, do not throw that gift away.”

“I don’t want it,” Hanya spoke, his voice as calm as the morning fog. “I never asked for it. I want to be with the people I love, Father. And I love her… Please understand.”

But Yatsu did not understand. Without another word, he turned, and walked back into the House, leaving Hanya alone with his pain.

By a fool’s footsteps

does a fool find his brothers

and others, wisdom

It had been three months since Yatsu had been released from Garlemald. The will of the kami had manifested all at once, and in his new position as leader of a liberated Doma, Lord Hien had negotiated a prisoner exchange with the former occupiers. The name of House Yatsu had come up, and Yatsu found himself once again walking upon Doman soil. But there was no longer a House Yatsu, and indeed he would have had nowhere to call home at all, had not Lord Hien asked a favor of a prominent paper merchant.

Yatsu knelt, sorting through the morning’s samples. Most were good, and would sell. Two were good, but would not sell; he would make a case to his gracious host before day’s end. One sample was of unacceptable quality. This one, he set aside.

Even poor paper can become something beautiful, he thought, as he began to fold the sample. It had been a long time since he had made a paper crane, but his fingers remembered the motions instinctively…

But won’t it get soaked? Doman paper is a very special thing…

“Ah…” Yatsu held the paper away from him, lest his tears ruin the sample. This moment would pass– he just needed to take a deep breath…

There was a knock at the door. Yatsu exhaled, feeling calmer. “Come in.”

It was the proprietor. “Good morning,” he spoke. “There’s a visitor for you.”

Yatsu was perplexed. “A visitor? Who is it?”

“I do not know,” said the proprietor. “Come out front.”

Yatsu donned a coat, and followed the proprietor out of the room, down the hallway, and out into the front of the store. There, just beyond the front door, waited a small family. Two young girls, one older than the other. A young man, nearly grown. A beautiful, nervous woman, dressed in her finest. And with her, a man he had never seen, with a face he knew by heart.

Yatsu dropped to his knees, stunned. His mouth moved, but he could form no words. The family rushed to his side, the woman bearing a look of grave concern– the man, though, seemed to be saying something, but–

“Father– Father, please–”

“Hanya,” Yatsu breathed, with a ragged voice that had been silent for decades.

“Yes! Yes, Father. Yes, it’s me.”

“You’re alive,” Yatsu spoke. He could say no more. This was beyond his ability to express, even to believe, that the kami would grant him this wish.

“I am,” Hanya said, at last allowing himself to smile. “I have a family now, Father. I would like you to meet them…”

Yatsu nodded, and nodded, and wept.

Maple falls, birch grows

Twenty years past, gone, and lost

But not one year more