Crayons
Iconoclast
Tsuruyama-jo rose up magnificently above the forest of Aomori. A pure white castle, built on a base of solid black granite, it was startlingly beautiful on the approach up the mountain road. Inside, it was much like any other provincial warlord’s castle. Ume, when she had first arrived, had been somewhat disappointed with the austerity of the place. Perhaps it needed a woman’s touch; almost certainly it would get one.
It was in one of these rustic, somewhat chilly, rooms that Ume stood, issuing orders to the maidservants they had brought with them from Kohan-ji. Five girls to prepare Azusa for her wedding, and all but one would return with the bride’s family to the castle by the lake. One of the maids was brushing out Azusa’s hair, making sure the long tresses were shiny and immaculate for her marriage to the young Midorizawa lord. Another, at the same time, took to plucking Azusa’s eyebrows into shape.
Ume’s silken gown rustled as she dismissed one of the girls and glided across the fresh tatami mats to stand behind Azusa. She looked at the girl’s face in the mirror, and her own above it. They were almost of an age; perhaps they could be taken for sisters. But Ume claimed no bonds of kinship to the girl - she was her daughter only in an official sense. Ume had two sons of her own, and it was they who would claim first Kohan-jo, and then anything else they put their mind to. This wedding was a step along that road, and a large one.
She kept both her thoughts and her excitement well hidden beneath the mask of her face. A perfect oval, with a coral blush to her cheeks, and dark eyes that seemed almost black except in the brightest light, like a still pool on a moonless night. In contrast, Azusa’s face had that lean and pinched look that her brother shared – almost as though they weren’t feeding her enough.
“You look beautiful, Azusa-chan, a perfect bride,” Ume said, a small smile perking her lips. “Be liberal with the oil on her hair, Mae, you know how wiry it can be. The young mistress will not be pleased if her hair begins to pull free of its bounds during the wedding. What would Morihide-dono think? Sue, more rouge. We don’t want her looking malnourished.” The maids immediately began to carry out her orders, as Azusa was worked upon from every conceivable angle under Ume’s watchful guidance. Morihide was surely not so shallow to reject a bride on looks alone, but there was no need to invite such a possibility.
The final two maidservants entered the room, struggling with a large wooden chest. “Azusa-chan, I have a surprise for you here.” The two girls set it down and opened the lid. With a rustle of silk, Ume bent down and unfurled the most beautiful outer robe. It was heavy silk, lightly padded, dyed from pale sakura pink at the collar to a dark dusky hue at the hemline. Every inch of it was covered with exceptionally detailed embroidery; pairs of white cranes flew over stylised pine forest, stood together with necks and elegant beaks entwined in their mating dance, swooping down to water. Branches of pine trees spread open their clusters of fine needles giving a unity to the design. Ume looked at it wistfully for a moment before holding it up for Azusa to see. She waved Mae away from Azusa’s hair, and draped the weighty kimono over the young bride’s shoulders. “This was my bridal robe when I married your father. Now it passes to you, dear daughter.” Her hands lingered for a moment on Azusa’s shoulders as Ume appraised her appearance in the mirror. “This is a special day for all of us.”
ashwynne
It was in one of these rustic, somewhat chilly, rooms that Ume stood, issuing orders to the maidservants they had brought with them from Kohan-ji. Five girls to prepare Azusa for her wedding, and all but one would return with the bride’s family to the castle by the lake. One of the maids was brushing out Azusa’s hair, making sure the long tresses were shiny and immaculate for her marriage to the young Midorizawa lord. Another, at the same time, took to plucking Azusa’s eyebrows into shape.
Ume’s silken gown rustled as she dismissed one of the girls and glided across the fresh tatami mats to stand behind Azusa. She looked at the girl’s face in the mirror, and her own above it. They were almost of an age; perhaps they could be taken for sisters. But Ume claimed no bonds of kinship to the girl - she was her daughter only in an official sense. Ume had two sons of her own, and it was they who would claim first Kohan-jo, and then anything else they put their mind to. This wedding was a step along that road, and a large one.
She kept both her thoughts and her excitement well hidden beneath the mask of her face. A perfect oval, with a coral blush to her cheeks, and dark eyes that seemed almost black except in the brightest light, like a still pool on a moonless night. In contrast, Azusa’s face had that lean and pinched look that her brother shared – almost as though they weren’t feeding her enough.
“You look beautiful, Azusa-chan, a perfect bride,” Ume said, a small smile perking her lips. “Be liberal with the oil on her hair, Mae, you know how wiry it can be. The young mistress will not be pleased if her hair begins to pull free of its bounds during the wedding. What would Morihide-dono think? Sue, more rouge. We don’t want her looking malnourished.” The maids immediately began to carry out her orders, as Azusa was worked upon from every conceivable angle under Ume’s watchful guidance. Morihide was surely not so shallow to reject a bride on looks alone, but there was no need to invite such a possibility.
The final two maidservants entered the room, struggling with a large wooden chest. “Azusa-chan, I have a surprise for you here.” The two girls set it down and opened the lid. With a rustle of silk, Ume bent down and unfurled the most beautiful outer robe. It was heavy silk, lightly padded, dyed from pale sakura pink at the collar to a dark dusky hue at the hemline. Every inch of it was covered with exceptionally detailed embroidery; pairs of white cranes flew over stylised pine forest, stood together with necks and elegant beaks entwined in their mating dance, swooping down to water. Branches of pine trees spread open their clusters of fine needles giving a unity to the design. Ume looked at it wistfully for a moment before holding it up for Azusa to see. She waved Mae away from Azusa’s hair, and draped the weighty kimono over the young bride’s shoulders. “This was my bridal robe when I married your father. Now it passes to you, dear daughter.” Her hands lingered for a moment on Azusa’s shoulders as Ume appraised her appearance in the mirror. “This is a special day for all of us.”
ashwynne
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