Untitled - daily15
I kind of like that they're being slow with the words right now, 'cause it gives me more time to catch up. :D Anyway, this sucks (though I did write about the image I wanted to convey, so it succeeds as communication if not as art) and will probably only make sense to uigenna (and possibly not even to Raien).
After the thorough humiliation of being dragged in for questioning, after the shôgun's less-than-amused reprimand, after having to have the sutras chanted for his niece, Nakayama Daisuke finally returned to his fine house in its fashionable suburb. Stepping down from the palanquin, he scowled at the shape his garden was in-the footprints of those ruffians, whom the rônin dug up God-knows-where, were still visible, and God-knows-how-many ryo worth of damage had been done to the fishpond. He wouldn't be surprised if those koi were dead, for the love of Kannon.
"We had to leave it as it was, lord," the head gardener said, head bowed, scarcely daring to look Daisuke in the eye. "The shôgun's men wanted to see it."
Daisuke dismissed him curtly, but shuddered inwardly: Crap. The shôgun won't let me off this time. Lost in thought, he turned the corner, and was horrified. Someone had had the appalling nerve--the gall--to etch a message in the soft wood of the garden gate, and even worse, it was no doubt visible from the street. Was nothing private anymore? Did all Edo gossip about his humiliation?
My Lord Nakayama will, I hope, forgive me for this hasty missive. After the damage you have done to me and mine through your uncurbed avarice and your willful failure to control your niece, this is but a drop in the bucket. You can easily afford another gate, although from what my superior tells me, it's anyone's guess as to how much longer.
Noises have been made, in official circles, about the confiscation of your property. I am not so petty as to wish to see you ruined, and it is my sincere hope that you will be able to escape this. What revenge I have desired, I have had, and most of it was not at my hands. Believe me when I say that what I did, I did not out of malice towards you or your family, but out of a desire to preserve those nearest to me.
However, in the event that your property is confiscated, and lest I be unable to regain it afterwards, I have taken the liberty of reclaiming the collateral for a loan you made to me. It belonged to my wife, and I would have liked to have it for my sons as a remembrance. In any case, I think that we may now considered that debt discharged. I should hate to have to engage in further skullduggery to reclaim it. No one knows better than you that I don't typically do things like this.
I am truly sorry for the demise of your niece; I intended only to get the Portuguese gun out of her hands. Neither of us knew that it would go off when it did.
I shall ask my superior officer to put in a good word for you.
Yours sincerely,
Fujioka Shirôzaemon
Daisuke twitched, lips quivering with fury, and heard a high, inhuman noise worm its way up his throat and out his mouth, until he was snarling right there in broad daylight. He drew his sword and slashed at the garden gate; this availed him nothing, and kicking the gate did nothing to assuage his fury.
"You're a dead man, Fatty!"
At that moment, Daisuke did not particularly care if anyone heard him.
After the thorough humiliation of being dragged in for questioning, after the shôgun's less-than-amused reprimand, after having to have the sutras chanted for his niece, Nakayama Daisuke finally returned to his fine house in its fashionable suburb. Stepping down from the palanquin, he scowled at the shape his garden was in-the footprints of those ruffians, whom the rônin dug up God-knows-where, were still visible, and God-knows-how-many ryo worth of damage had been done to the fishpond. He wouldn't be surprised if those koi were dead, for the love of Kannon.
"We had to leave it as it was, lord," the head gardener said, head bowed, scarcely daring to look Daisuke in the eye. "The shôgun's men wanted to see it."
Daisuke dismissed him curtly, but shuddered inwardly: Crap. The shôgun won't let me off this time. Lost in thought, he turned the corner, and was horrified. Someone had had the appalling nerve--the gall--to etch a message in the soft wood of the garden gate, and even worse, it was no doubt visible from the street. Was nothing private anymore? Did all Edo gossip about his humiliation?
My Lord Nakayama will, I hope, forgive me for this hasty missive. After the damage you have done to me and mine through your uncurbed avarice and your willful failure to control your niece, this is but a drop in the bucket. You can easily afford another gate, although from what my superior tells me, it's anyone's guess as to how much longer.
Noises have been made, in official circles, about the confiscation of your property. I am not so petty as to wish to see you ruined, and it is my sincere hope that you will be able to escape this. What revenge I have desired, I have had, and most of it was not at my hands. Believe me when I say that what I did, I did not out of malice towards you or your family, but out of a desire to preserve those nearest to me.
However, in the event that your property is confiscated, and lest I be unable to regain it afterwards, I have taken the liberty of reclaiming the collateral for a loan you made to me. It belonged to my wife, and I would have liked to have it for my sons as a remembrance. In any case, I think that we may now considered that debt discharged. I should hate to have to engage in further skullduggery to reclaim it. No one knows better than you that I don't typically do things like this.
I am truly sorry for the demise of your niece; I intended only to get the Portuguese gun out of her hands. Neither of us knew that it would go off when it did.
I shall ask my superior officer to put in a good word for you.
Yours sincerely,
Fujioka Shirôzaemon
Daisuke twitched, lips quivering with fury, and heard a high, inhuman noise worm its way up his throat and out his mouth, until he was snarling right there in broad daylight. He drew his sword and slashed at the garden gate; this availed him nothing, and kicking the gate did nothing to assuage his fury.
"You're a dead man, Fatty!"
At that moment, Daisuke did not particularly care if anyone heard him.