by Nikita Thorn
He forced his eyes to remain on the hollow slits, determined to let his host play the first hand. In the uncomfortable silence, he could feel the cold metal handle on his finger, and the mild resistance that would probably slide the door shut automatically if he were to let go.
The figure suddenly moved, pale hands lifting, rustling long sleeves against the body of the silk kimono.
For a moment, Seiki was afraid it would reach out for him and he nearly let go of the door. The movement, however, was subtle, as if the figure was simply transferring some weight from one foot to the other in a change of pose.
“Welcome, Seiki.”
The low female voice echoed against the wooden mask. It sounded human, and Seiki felt slight relief at the fact.
Her tone held a tinge of stage formality, as if she was narrating a line in a play, neutral and devoid of emotions.
In a slow, connected, almost dance-like motion, the figure took a half step backward to reveal the interior of the room, but not before placing her left hand on the door, thumb and index curling slightly around the edge of the panel, stopping less than an inch away from Seiki’s grip on the handle. At the same time, her right arm lifted, palm facing up, opening to the side in a graceful sweep as an invitation to look into the room.
The gesture was deliberate, perhaps a tease or a challenge. Ignoring his misgivings, Seiki shifted his gaze from his host to the room.
His heart skipped another beat.
Sitting in two mirroring vertical rows that faced the middle of the hall were about ten more masked figures, identical to the one that had answered the door, their blood red attire contrasting sharply with the surrounding golden splendor of the Himawari Room. At their companion’s gesture, the figures turned toward their guest, silently greeting him with twenty pairs of hollow eye slits.
The scene felt like a surrealistic nightmare that was both beautiful and horrifying, made more disconcerting by the fact that the room appeared larger than what could be contained in the building. For a moment Seiki thought he was peering into an entirely different dimension.
The famed Himawari Room was indeed a sight to behold. Just as the rumors had it, the wood panels that made up the walls were painted dull gold, with sunflower motifs on the bottom that turned into more abstract patterns higher up on the panels. The tatami flooring was brand new, firm, clean, with an almost glossy sheen to it that Seiki had never seen anywhere else.
At the back end of the room, standing three quarters of the way toward the ceiling and blocking the backside windows, was a gigantic folding screen with seven sections. The hand-painted art on it depicted a field of sunflowers against a golden sky.
In the middle of the room, laid out on the floor between the rows of seated hosts, was a length of red velvety cloth of about three by eight feet, set in place of a grand dining table. On each end was a black gold-trimmed zabuton.
Seiki knew that one of them was meant for him.
“Please come in, Seiki. We’ve been waiting.” The masked figure at the door gestured once more, her voice treating each syllable like spoken poetry.
Seiki drew a quiet breath as he weighed his options. Considering the great lengths his hosts had gone through to create the setting, it was unlikely his suggestion to stay on the other side of the boundary would be accepted.
The important thing was that one of them had spoken, and Seiki wanted to believe whatever was capable of speech could be reasoned with. But deep down, he knew he was captivated by the sight, enchanted by the mystery and the promise of an answer, and no one could pay him a million gold to walk away from this.
With another glance at the figure by the door, Seiki stepped through the room boundary, his senses on high alert. His skin prickled as he walked past her, but she made no movement.
The rows of hosts, perfectly synchronized, extended a hand to gesture to the nearer seat. Their hollow gaze followed Seiki until he settled down on the cushion.
Behind him, the door quietly slid shut.
Immediately approaching from the right were shuffling footsteps. Seiki turned to look. The room had a side door, from which emerged a man in his late middle years. Dressed in a dark yellow kimono that was almost brown to match the theme of the room, with his graying hair held in a tidy knot with a golden clasp, the Himawari Room Banquet Attendant [Level Unknown] was as well-mannered as he was well-groomed. He crossed the tatami floor with quick, efficient tiny steps, his head bowed, eyes lowered, showing unfaultable respect for the occasion.
In the attendant’s hands was a large tray that displayed a dozen plates and bowls of various sizes and colors, which he politely set down in front of Seiki. The dainty food items were assorted types of appetizers, each decorated with leaves and flowers, and arranged to stand out in contrast with their containers, which were all laid out aesthetically on the tray like abstract art. Seiki had no intention to carefully inspect them at the moment, but a quick glance showed them all to be [Level 30 food].
Seiki looked up from the tray and gave a start. Another masked figure was now seated opposite him on the other zabuton.
“Welcome,” said the figure in the same voice that had spoken before at the door. There had been no sound or movement, as if she had just disappeared and reappeared on the seat.
Determined not to be intimidated by the elaborate display, he looked straight at his host. “Who are you and what do you want from me?”
“So blunt, Seiki.” The woman’s voice was tinged with sardonic amusement. “You may call me Okugata-sama.”
She paused, and Seiki was not sure what response she was expecting, but he was certain he was not going to add the last bit to her name.
Getting no reaction from him, Okugata continued after a second. “A meal isn’t complete without a drink.”
The woman clapped her hand once, and another servant appeared, carrying a small tray with a sake bottle and a cup on it.
“This isn’t necessary,” said Seiki as the servant knelt down to pour the clear yet nearly sparkling Junmai Daiginjo [Level 30 food] into the cup.
“It’s not poisoned.” Okugata sounded amused as she gestured gracefully at the ceramic cup.
“No, thanks.”
“How about a dance performance, then?” She interrupted him with two quick claps. Another door opened on the right side of the room, admitting another fifteen or so figures.
They were all dressed in identical dark blue and white, all female, about half of them carrying a small hand drum in their hands. The musicians sat down gracefully in a row all around the room in a half circle, their instruments rested on their laps, while the dancers split into two groups: four on each side of the folding screen.
Okugata clapped once, and the musicians tapped their drums. The dancers, still facing the audience, turned their bodies sideways, a knee lowered, one arm raised to strike a pose, showing off the intricate patterns on their long kimono sleeves.
Two of the musicians switched to flutes, adding a melodic element to the performance. The drums continued to sound, and the dancers moved slowly to the rhythm with careful, practiced motions.
Seiki was not sure if this was part of the perks of the Himawari Room, or if Okugata was the one controlling them. He could not tell how accurate or authentic the movements were, but they were executed with poise and elegance, turning, weaving in and out of poses. Whatever her purpose was in putting on the show, it was dazzling to watch, and Seiki had to tear his eyes away from them to concentrate on his host.
Okugata herself had turned to look at the dancers. “When will you ever get to see something like this again?” she said, almost inaudibly, as if she was talking to herself. Of course, no expression showed through the wooden mask as the woman turned back to face him. “Impressed?”
“Yes,” Seiki said honestly. “But let’s cut to the chase. Why did you invite me here?”
Okugata seemed pleased with his approval. “It’s a straightforward affair. First, w
e have a conversation. Then, if all is satisfactory, we have a trade.”
“Okay,” said Seiki. It was going more sensibly than he thought.
“You have something we want. Something you’ve stumbled upon and have no idea what to make of. Something which purpose remains a mystery to many who possess them. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
She was talking about the Shadow Key. There was no point feigning ignorance.
“Yes,” said Seiki. “The Shadow Seal.”
“Yes, the Shadow Seal,” the woman echoed, a hint of mockery in her tone at the term.
“What does it do?” Seiki asked before she had a chance to figure out he might have a clue to its true function.
“These items were a mistake. You see, one man’s trash is another woman’s treasure.” She gave a little laugh, as if embarrassed. “Once you have everything, you find yourself going for rare items. Things that should not exist and things that will never be reproduced. Misprinted coins, stamps, cards… it’s the ones with mistakes that are assigned the most value by collectors. Funny, isn’t it?”
This was a blatant lie, although from the way she was saying it, Seiki almost believed her.
“And why the theatrics beforehand? You kept following me around ever since we found the… Seal, and then you invaded the Society.”
“We had to make sure we had your attention, and it seems like we succeeded.”
As flattering as it sounded, Seiki knew that this, too, was a lie. “You would have gotten my attention with much less.”
Okugata laughed. “There are parties who wished to dissuade you from coming. But I was right. After all that, there was no way you could let this chance slip.”
Seiki had to admit it was true. “But why here? If this Shadow Seal is really useless to me, why not just straight up offer to buy it from me when I’m sitting around in the kakigouri shop?”
“I thought you’d appreciate the gesture. Isn’t that what you’re here for? To see and do amazing things, things unfairly denied to you otherwise. Not very many ever get to see this place, and as things are going, there’s no telling if anyone will again. We could very well be in the last instance of the Himawari Room. Lucky you to get to witness it now. What a privilege, isn’t it?”
Her voice had a slight edge to it now, and Seiki shifted uneasily at what she implied she knew, but Okugata did not seem to notice as she continued.
“So here’s a proposal. Find all the other Shadow Seals. Bring them to us. Of course, we would go through the formal procedure of recruiting you, and your friends, if they would like to join. It will be through a proxy, but once you swear the clan oath, we will have a way to monitor your progress and assign you the appropriate quests. And, in return, I promise you you’ll get to experience everything this world has to offer. Imagine that, Seiki. Did you know there’s a secret route to a hidden turquoise lake on Mount Sorachi? Did you know there’s a path to Hell itself and where mythical fruits grow that will allow you to survive the trip? Did you know you can actually sail beyond the actual boundaries of the world?”
This was more information than Seiki had hoped for, and in any other situation he might have been excited to just listen to her talk about all the locations he had never heard of that he would one day wish to see for himself. “I’m listening.”
She seemed to have mistaken his response for the start of an agreement, and her speech quickened. “Just one condition: find us the Shadow Seals. You’re free to do whatever you want and you will get our full support. You’ll see that we have much more than you can ever want, Seiki. I’m not asking you to simply take my word for it. See for yourself.”
She put down a box in front of him, polished black with inlaid pearl in the shape of a bird perched on a slim branch. The sides were trimmed with gold.
She gestured expectantly.
Again, Seiki waited. When he made the decision not to touch anything, he really meant it, and he simply looked at her.
Heaving a quiet sigh, Okugata slowly lifted the lid and set it aside.
In the middle of the black box was a curved double-edged dagger. The blade, six inches long and glowing with an inner light of ice gray, was the shape of a falcon’s wing in full extension. The handle was fine black leather.
Higara. +102 attack +96 defense +22% energy regeneration. Effect: each successful attack adds +12 speed to the user for 12 seconds, stacking up to 5 times. Added speed does not persist through stuns and fears.
Seiki’s breath caught as his mind tripped over the description. He had expected it would be something valuable, but this was beyond anything he had ever dreamt of. The effect it promised opened up a new playstyle he had no idea was possible. It was not scalable, but having seen what he considered to be a good named dagger scaled to max level in Zengoro’s Rogami, Seiki could tell that the numbers on this piece were far superior.
Okugata was closely observing his reaction. “Isn’t it time for you to outgrow that little Kohagane dagger of yours?” she said. “This is unclaimed, of course, if that’s what you’re worrying about, as you can see. No tricks there. Hand over your Shadow Seal and you can claim it right now. It’s perfect for you.”
Seiki looked at her. Somehow, he hated the fact that she was right. It was primarily an energy piece, which was something he had always prioritized.
“I know what else you’re thinking,” said Okugata. “You found the Shadow Seal together with your friends, and so it would be selfish of you to trade it away. Of course, we have considered your friends’ contribution.”
She placed another item on the floor. Set in another long velvet-lined box was a folded strap of leather, with a streak of gold running through the middle.
Rein of Matsukaze Tenma. Ride the legendary celestial horse Matsukaze, Wind in the Pines, whose speed and loyalty are unmatched. Mythical Grade. Four Slots. Required: Riding Level 30.
“Wouldn’t this make a fine war horse for Ichiiro?” Okugata chuckled as she noticed his bewildered expression.
Seiki had no idea what to say. Ippei had never said anything about his horse, although he had gotten Riding up to a decent level. All Seiki knew was that a Level 30 mount was most likely an end-game mount, not to mention that he had never even heard of Mythical Grade.
“There’s more.” Okugata slowly retrieved smaller items from her sleeve and slowly placed them on the floor between them, one by one.
Cursed Bamboo Flute [Toy]. Summon the tree spirit of the tree whose shade you are standing under! Results may be unpredictable.
Getsuei Sandals. +25 speed. Outer Feet Slot. Effect: allows the user to blend into any surroundings touched by moonlight for 25 seconds. Lockout: 3 minutes.
Pink Ray Skin Bracelet. +15 defense. Arm Slot. Effect: after 15 minutes of having the item equipped, the user can breathe under water as long as their health is above 20%.
“I believe you have a lady friend who would be endlessly delighted by these?”
Going by the quality of the past two offerings, Seiki had no doubt this collection of curious items was of comparable value. As much as he wanted to see the kitsune squeal at the unusual effects on the pieces, he felt something akin to when Fumiya had activated his Sense to look through his equipped gear. These people were strangers. There were things they had no right to know.
Okugata put down another container, a small enchanted thirty-slot storage box that would allow anyone access to their own inventory. Next to it she placed a lit floor lamp, which she produced out of nowhere. “You give us your Shadow Seal, we verify its shadow, and you can store all these away right now.”
Okugata noticed his reluctance and quickly continued. “You might suspect that we’re trying to shortchange you. I can guarantee that you’re getting the better end of the bargain. If you wonder what the true value of the Shadow Seal is and why I’m willing to trade so much for something completely useless, well, I can tell you that these items cost me very little.” She waved her hand d
ismissively. “With the next Shadow Seal you bring us, however, I can get you better rewards. You want an East Gate territory? Name it. I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”
She laid a pale hand on the storage box and pushed it forward an inch. “Go ahead. I’ll let you put all of them in your storage before you hand me the Shadow Seal.”
Seiki was starting to understand something else. The scene had been set especially for this exchange, with a very generous trade offer. This was a deal that was not meant to be refused, and she was waiting for him to reach out for the storage box.
He sensed urgency in her tone. Whatever the reason was, she wanted the Shadow Seal very badly, and he could not help but feel there was something familiar about that kind of desperate hunger.
Drawing a deep breath, Seiki looked at her. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”
The woman seemed taken aback. She paused for a moment, her impenetrable slitted gaze on him. “What this is about?” she finally said, her voice now calm.
She waved her hands and four Himawari Room Attendants appeared out of a side door. The men hurried over to the folding screen and proceeded to fold it away.
Behind the screen was a large open platform that extended far out into the open air, offering a full elevated view of Shinshioka’s gray silhouettes of buildings under the deep blue canvas of the night hour. Above the darkened structures was the majestic White Dragon, whose snout was now glowing with a silver brilliance bright enough to reflect off the sea of roofs, like a white moon over ocean waves.
“It’s about this place,” said Okugata in a whisper. “Look at this, Seiki. Wouldn’t you do anything for this?”
She clapped her hands again. The music suddenly changed its rhythm. The dancers paused, before answering with a sudden change of pose. A metallic ring sounded as they drew short silver performance swords with one hand and snapped open their black fans with the other.
