Not-so Political Meetings

[Yoshida Izanagi]

The day was fresh and crisp. The air tasted sweet on his tongue and the sun felt warm on his skin. A day of any other that was beautiful in his country. These were days he would fight for. As a child he relished in them, as a soldier he missed them. Then, there was the now. Days like these he used to take for granted. When he lived at home, he barely had time to appreciate the way Aerugo was, because he was too busy hating Yuuko. That was alright, though. She was gone, she could no longer disease his country with the plague of words he'd seen. Then again, he was biased, extremely so. The one area where his rage was overwhelming and almost suffocating was dealing with her and the hell he went through for her. Surely there had to be good parts of her plans, but he just never saw them; blinded by his own hatred. It was done now, he was gone.

As he stepped out of his royal room, he found himself moving to the dojo. The large hole in his roof was still there, gaping and taunting as the day it had been made. Luckily reparations were in order. Soon it'd be back to its normal dojo self. Good news for the shogun, as he HAD deeply missed it, without the leaks. When it rained the wood would get warped and he had hoped it would be fixed soon, before the whole thing was ruined. His blade felt good in his hand, but that was nothing new. A samurai was never apart from a blade that was so attached to themselves. It was named 'Naga', after his grandfather, Izanaga and so Izanagi after him. A strange correlation, but commonplace to him. After all, live with something a lifetime, it is no longer strange.

Training was as usual. Long and tedious, as he preferred to push himself until he sweat and ached. Time consuming, since a dummy barely made an opponent, but not as long when the sun was up. As well, he had things he had to accomplish eventually in the day, so he agreed with himself to make it a two hour training and hope that it would suffice for the day. After all, once a soldier always a soldier.

[Guest]

Dietrich strolled through the halls of the Imperial Palace, marveling at the architecture and decorations while a government official tried hurrying him along. A silly and futile goal for the man to have since, after all, he couldn't care too much about any schedule than his own and the man he was here to see.

”I never did visit the last Empress here,” he comments to the obviously annoyed official. ”A strange woman, but oddly cooperative. A shame she's... What did become of Yuuko?”

”Vacation,” the man grunted impatiently, looking back at Dietrich as he admired a statue.

”Of course, of course,” he mutters. Much could be inferred, but it would be best to not stir any trouble. After all, he'd have to see if he liked the shogun before deciding whether to help or hinder the man.

The sounds of Yoshi's training seeped out into the hallway, and the official fidgeted, hesitating. Confident enough to try to push around a foreign dignitary, but scared of the man he served... typical. Sliding open the door to the dojo, Dietrich slowly enters, watching as the shogun practices for a few moments.

”Shogun Izanagi?” he asks, the official stepping in.

”T-this is –”

”Lord Dietrich von Vermont, Prime Minister of Creta,” he says, shooting a glare at the small man and waving him off. Slowly, the man backs up and leaves, leaving the two men alone. ”My apologies if I'm interrupting you,” he says with a bow. ”Though please, do continue. I'm not here for business, after all.”

[Yoshida Izanagi]

”Shogun Izanagi?”

A voice broke his concentration and his blade returned swiftly to the sheath. One of his politicians was there, fidgeting as if he would be cut down where he stood. It was odd how much people feared power. When Izanagi was but a soldier, these people mocked him, but now they were terrified. As if he would behead all those who looked down upon him. No, Izanagi was no such man. Only few felt the cold of his metal and they deserved it, in his mind. Anyways, he had company.

A man of vague familiarity was standing before the shogun and as he introduced himself, Izanagi bowed. ”Lord Dietrich von Vermont, Prime Minister of Creta.”

"Greetings, Lord Dietrich Von Dietrich." His Aerugese was impressive for someone who was not native to the country. He mentioned an apology for interrupting and then said he wasn't there for political reasons. That was odd, for a 'leader' to visit another for no reason. Wait wasn't Rachel leading Creta now? Izanagi was a bit confused, but he nodded and moved his hand on the top of his hilt to rest. "I see..." Again, he said that, but what he 'saw' he was unsure of. "There is no trouble, I was simply keeping my skills sharp. You are welcome to join if you wish." His head nodded to the wall, which was lined with various blades, all wooden, bamboo or metal. None of which he really used, as his own blade, 'Naga' was at his side.

"Pray do not mind my asking. What does bring the Prime Minister to Creta?" If not for business, then what? Izanagi was simply curious. It was not distrust, but simply confusion.

[Csilla Angelis]

{BUMP}

[Sponsored content]