Salt water splashed her face, and the smell of the ocean lingered
around her. She wrapped the brown cloak tighter about herself,
frowning at the fabric – so rough, and so dark, not at all the garb
she was used to. When they arrived, in that strange northern country,
she'd wear what she wanted to. This she swore.
“Naimitsu.”
She was there. She was always there.
“How long will the trip be?”
“Eight days. This is a fast ship, but the crew is Nipponese, Miss
Tsuru, and-”
She hated the name. "Tsuru". It was a necessary name, a disguise like the rags she was wearing, but she hated it still - a common name, a mere animal. Noble, perhaps, but not suited for her.
“And I must stay hidden for now. I know. Not that I care.”
“There are many Nipponese students at the Academy as well. If they
find out-”
“Do what you must.”
Naimitsu bowed. It was hard to read her body language, but a lifetime
with her had taught Akane plenty. This was the solemn bow, the bow of
regret. The bow that told Akane just what Naimitsu was willing to do,
in the name of the Empire. In the name of the Empress.
“I will act as I choose when we reach the shore. I don't care about
the daimyo's warnings. If there are threats, you remove them. Is that
understood, Naimitsu?”
“Yes, Miss Tsuru.”
There was darkness in her eyes. Akane didn't know what became of
those Naimitsu called 'threats'.
Not that she cared.
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