Yoritomo Noriyuki applied his personal chop and began cleaning the brushes as the ink on his letter dried. His calligraphy was skilled, but included few flourishes or personal touches, even in a letter to his wife.
His negotiations had been profitable, and would continue to be profitable to the Mantis clan for months; perhaps even years if expected trends continued. But for now, his duty to the daimyo fulfilled, he looked forward to returning to the islands, and to his young and beautiful wife.
He picked up the scroll, rolling it carefully and then walked out into the morning air, the sky just beginning to fade from black to a pre-dawn grey. If the Fortunes favored him, the caravan master who had agreed to deliver the letter would reach the coast while the Storm Breaker was still in port, and the letter would reach his wife well before his return. He hoped the apology it contained would begin to bridge the rift their argument had created.
It was only as he returned to the inn that he heard the commotion, and a young peasant crying out, "Look, it's the Emperor's sons!"
-----
Dearest Wife,
I humbly ask your forgiveness for my harsh words when last we parted. I cannot hold you to blame for the consequences of my actions at the dinner party. Indeed, when I interposed myself between you and those terrible creatures, I realize that I unintentionally offered insult; failing to respect your courage. For that too, I offer heartfelt apology.
You are no frail flower to be sheltered or coddled. I have seen you grow, taking root in the rocky terrain of our islands, though the winds of fate have blown you far from your homeland. You are my thistle, beautiful, yet hardy and strong, able to protect yourself. Already you put down deep roots. You have put my house in order, building a future for us, while I have discharged my duties to our clan.
Those recent duties are drawing to a close, and the agreements I have reached are most advantageous. I hope to start for home in a few days, perhaps even tomorrow. I look forward to my return with great anticipation. I find that I long for your touch, and miss your presence quite sharply.
Though duty is sure to draw us apart again, know that I will always be eager to return to your side. I cherish you, and the future we can build together. I dearly hope that our efforts toward that legacy, enjoyable though they are, shall bear fruit soon.
Until I reach your side, know that you are always in my thoughts.
I cherish you, always,
Yoritomo Noriyuki
-----
"There is a mistake," the young painter insisted, resolute as he faced the foreman. "These are the names I was bid to inscribe on the new panels, but this one is wrong."
The foreman wiped his hands clean before accepting the list and looking at the name. Restoring the shrine of honorable sacrifice, at a time of such tragedy, requires careful attention to detail. But of this name there was no doubt.
"Everything is in order," he said handing the list back. "Finish the panels."
An angry look came over the workman's face, "These panels are to honor those who died with the emperor's sons, paying to have the shrine restored does not entitle this man to have his name put among theirs."
The foreman scowled, "Yoritomo Noriyuki, a most honorable Mantis, whose courage and sincerity you are insulting, arranged for the restoration of this shrine before the battle, young fool. Paying for the work did not earn him a place of honor. Dying on the field of battle while defending a fallen companion, however, most certainly did! Now do your job, and show some respect, before someone more highly placed than I takes exception to your boorishness."
The painter blanched, trembling a bit as he bowed and backed away. "Hai, right away."
-----
Yoritomo Azami pressed the moist earth around the bulbs, smiling as she worked in the courtyard garden. The day was pleasant now that the morning sickness had passed. The morning sun would have been hot, but she was working in the shade. The expensive bulbs her husband had acquired from the Thrane were more suited to temperate climes but should grow well enough if protected from the harsh island sun.
"Noriyuki will be pleased when he returns," she thought, "though it shall not be today." She looked toward the shrine to Ebisu being tended by servants in the center of the courtyard, had her husband arrived on the morning tide a messenger would have been sent to order it left untended. "What good a shrine to honest work," she could almost hear him saying, "If you are unwilling to do that work yourself."
Life here was so different, as much as she loved flowers, at home she could never have done the planting herself, only watched as servants did the work. Here, her husband would not object, in fact, he would approve.
But as she reached for the next bulb, she was interrupted.
"Lady Yoritomo-sama," the girl bowed, "There is a messenger at the door, a Seppun guardsman."
Azami nodded and stood, "Help me off with my gloves, then tell cook to prepare tea, and have one of the boys escort our visitor to the reception hall. I will join him there soon."

Minutes later, in a fresh kimono, a worried Azami walked as calmly as she could into the ostentatiously decorated meeting room. Her husband might be careful with his money in most things, but he often said that impressing the right visitors was worth the expense.
She nearly stopped, paling a bit when she saw, next to the Seppun, a bundle wrapped in Mantis colors and just the size of a wakazashi. But after a quick steadying breath she continued, greeting her guest gracefully and offering him tea.
As he sipped from the cup however, she could wait no longer.
"Pardon me for being so direct, but does this concern my Lord husband."
"Yes, Lady Yoritomo," he said gently, setting aside the cup and reaching for the bundle, "It does."
-----
Hida Taro ambled through the gates of his family home in the western quarter of Kyuden Hida, only to be immediately assaulted.
"Taro, Taro!" the small figure cried, lunging at his legs.
Reaching down with his free hand, he pried the child's arms from around his thigh, and pushed her back a step with a frown, then drew back his hand and gave a polite formal bow.
"Greetings daughter of my mother," he intoned, face serious.
The girl stood up straighter, mimicking the bow. "Greetings son of my father."
"Well done Nariko," he smiled scooping her up in one arm, carrying her easily up the steps even though he was in full armor and she was in her ninth summer. "Where is father?"
"Gone to the palace," his sister hugged him, "I was so afraid for you. Cousin Noriyuki is dead."
"Dead?! But he is a negotiator, what happened?"
"The emperor's sons are dead too, Kobashi and Hatsu, they were all fighting Tsuno," Nariko hugged Taro with surprising strength for a small child, "I was so worried."
Taro stopped on the steps for a moment then carefully set his sister down two steps above him. She looked up at him, puzzled.
"Tell father I will be at our shrine," he said, his voice distant, "meditating."
Nariko watched him walk away, then shrugged and went in to wait for her father.
-----
Hida Karakoge sighed when he found his son, Taro, sitting rigidly in the fading light of the sun before the ancestral family shrine. Approaching he saw a kubi bukuro, set before the lad. Reminding him that he must stop thinking of his son as a boy, but as a man.
"What is it Taro?" he asked, "why are you waiting here?"
"I was asking our ancestors for guidance father," Taro turned his head looking up only slightly to meet his father's eyes, "I believe I have seen an omen."
"Taro, Taro my son, you must realize, not every unusual event is an omen. Most are merely unusual events. Your obsession with omens is not seemly; you are a warrior, not a priest."
"I know father, but Nariko told me how cousin Noriyuki died. Grandmother would be proud of him, and I intend to make her proud as well."
Karakoge, put his hand on his sons shoulder, "I am sure she is already proud Taro, you are a man now. Go back to the house, your mother has prepared a special meal, and Nariko doesn't understand why you left so suddenly. She misses her big brother. I will take care of this," he gestured toward the trophy sack, "Tomorrow we will talk about your duty to the clan."
Taro nodded rising easily despite his size. "I can feel cousin Noriyuki with me father, feel his courage."
Karakoge also nodded, "He was a good man, with a fearless heart."
As Taro left, Karakoge lifted the stone slab, picked up the kubi bukuro and descended the narrow stairs into the crypt of his ancestors. Each niche save his own and Taro's contained an urn filled with ashes, the stone beneath carved with a record of their accomplishments, and a second niche at the floor containing the blackened skull of their gempukku trophies.
He carefully gripped the bag, pulling the sack's mouth open, carefully not touching its contents, and pulling it back over the fire blackened skull as he placed it in the niche below Taro's.
He pulled the bag back and then froze, seeing the curved horns of a Tsuno protruding from the skull and knowing what kind of omen his superstitious son would see in such a coincidence.
Then he began his own prayer to the ancestors.