Rei had a hard time navigating Kuro’s forts. They were built like mazes—granted, so was Gin’s capital, but he had his entire life to explore that. Here, every corner he didn’t know worried him.


    He couldn’t tell if he escorted Kasper and Emelie or if Kasper and Emelie were escorting him; they were the ones with knives—and Kasper could probably stab someone with his drawing pencils if he needed to—but he led them. They regularly passed by Gin or Sólstaeuric soldiers in the halls, either going somewhere or wandering just like they were. They could recognize the Roken siblings by now, but all most knew about Rei was that he was someone’s kid. He had a feeling some soldiers assumed he was from Hiroki.


    He brought them back to the camp outside the fort for lunch, almost immediately greeted by Sorai.


    “Hey, kids,” he said nicely. To Rei, he said, “You disappeared right after breakfast; I didn’t have a chance to say happy birthday.”


    “...That is today, isn’t it?”


    His heart ached at the reminder. Normally Taiyo reminded him—and even then, the greatest moments were with friends, Maeko especially. What he looked forward to wasn’t here.


    Sorai gave him a sympathetic look and handed Rei a small package.


    “From Nesshin,” Sorai explained with a little smile. “Your mother will be busy until tonight and she planned a nice meal, so just take it easy until then.”


    “All right,” Rei murmured, gladly taking the package. It didn’t have much weight to it. “Thank you.”


    Sorai patted Rei’s shoulder, then took a few steps back before leaving. Rei knew he didn’t want to, but work came first—at least for now.


    Fortunately, he wasn’t really alone. No sooner than Sorai walked away that Emelie perked up and came a little closer, pausing an arm’s length away.


    “What’cha get?” she asked innocently. “Something romantic, I bet, if it’s from your girlfriend~”


    “Let’s see.” Rei turned so he could lean against the outer wall, holding the package in one hand and opening it with the other. He pulled out a letter first, smiling just seeing Maeko’s flowery handwriting.


    Some things for you to have a normal day. I know it’s hard, but keep your chin up! Snowbell and I will be here when you come back.


    He shuffled around to find a drawing of Maeko and Snowbell, a few dried flower petals, and a komainu charm. Rei showed them to Kasper and Emelie—albeit mostly the latter—with a fond little smile.


    Emelie pointed at the charm, but didn’t actually touch it.


    “What’s this one?”


    “It’s a komainu,” Rei answered. The siblings seemed a bit confused, so he tried to explain, “It’s a…lion dog, kind of—a protector.”If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    “Is there a story behind it?” Emelie’s eyes shimmered while Kasper waited a little ways away, interested but quiet. He mentioned once that the heat made him drowsy. “Like how kitsune were made by Kuro’s god and tengu were made by Gin’s god.”


    Rei nodded. “A kitsune wanted to protect a girl he cared about, so he transformed into a lion dog; he became adored by the townsfolk. Gin also has an additional tale that the first queen was gifted a komainu statue from all of the royal children younger than her, as well as her future husband and the king’s mistress. She gave it little pieces of food every day until her sudden death.”


    It piqued Kasper’s curiosity, apparently.


    “Kuro’s side claims that illness took her,” he noted. “Is it the same way in Gin?”


    “We say that the first queen was murdered,” Rei replied, shaking his head. “She went for a walk one night and was found the next morning with a slit throat. There were suspects—her husband, nearly all the servants and guards, and any known rebel leaders—but none were convicted. Most weren’t even tried.”


    “Gin’s first queen is a bit of a curiosity for me,” Kasper admitted. “It’s interesting to see how the same history is interpreted differently between Gin and Kuro; our mother taught us what she knew, except for what she thought was questionably false.”


    Rei gave a sheepish grin as he closed the package again. He’ll write a letter of thanks as soon as he can.


    “Taiyo knows more about the first queen than anyone,” he said. “When we were kids, that’s all he’d ever talk about—every game involved her, every story that our parents used to get us to sleep, every piece of random trivia, was tied to her somehow.”


    “Maybe we could have a chat one day, then,” Kasper mused. He looked out towards the camp, a mess of tents and soldiers with Kyoumi, Sorai, and Roken somewhere within it. “A few folktales will certainly liven things up around here.”


    “Agreed!” Emelie chirped. Rei murmured something of a similar sentiment.


    He glanced at the package, his smile faded but the memories were still playing in the back of his mind.


    …Maybe he should write something for Taiyo, too. It wouldn’t hurt to send a birthday letter out, even if he had no way of receiving it.


    — —


    Taiyo hated this. He almost thought that he would be okay here—that, with Lady Yanami’s help, he wouldn’t be miserable. He would be safe until he figured out how to get the voices out of his head so he could go home.


    You’re so naive, most of the voices murmured. Stuck with us, forever and ever… Only death can free you, child.


    Death. Maybe that was why Tsujihara Seiko died the way she did; she was trying to get rid of the voices.


    He honestly considered it on some days, but between the voices’ insistence that it wouldn’t work, lack of anything efficient, and fearing that his family would follow after, he decided not to. All it meant for now was that his only company was the room full of voices, promising destruction nonetheless.


    Taiyo could almost see them occupying the room, watching him or staring out the window. They faded when something shuffled outside of the door.


    He turned so he faced it, but stayed quiet and close together. The door creaked open and a hand put down a small bag.


    “Books.” He perked up at Lady Yanami’s voice. “I’m leaving in a few hours; this is the best I can do for you, just keep them hidden.”


    “Thank you,” Taiyo murmured. He shoved off the bed and went to collect the bag.


    Lady Yanami didn’t respond, pulling her hand back and closing the door again. She didn’t waste much time blocking the door again.


    Alone once again, Taiyo pulled out the first book in the pile and read. If nothing else, maybe it would keep him occupied until he was freed to fight.