Return to Isaki

[Kari]

The island was strangely reminiscent of how the Isaki idealized the Mist islands of his past. Though it was not made into the tourist attraction his homeland was, the beach reminded him of it. It was an empty, hidden paradise; had he been younger or someone else entirely, he might have been able to appreciate it. He was waiting. There was more to this island than he had initially known; here was a key to his past, and him. The murderer of his clan. The Isaki were here, there was no doubt to him that information of Hoshikata was here; perhaps even the man was here. It had been a long fifteen years, and yet only now could he fight him.

Unlike the beaches in the south, the sand was a pristine white. It was a facade, as though the pure nature of the beaches suggested the island and its people to be like. With the Isaki here, he knew how impossible it was. He saw how Hoshikata, and the rest of the clan used their wealth. Greed had polluted this place, even if they hadn't known it. It was the nature of anywhere the clan was.

A large wave crashed onto the white sand, riding upward towards the edge of the beach where the puppet body stood. The tide was coming in, the meeting wouldn't be too much longer. Something would be coming soon, not likely to be a flaunt of wealth given no information was known. Had they even known of Karurosu? A younger brother of an Isaki who actually mattered? Beyond a medical leader, what significance had he held in the grand schemes of the Isaki? He wasn't even made into some puppet leader. His time at the mantle was too short. Isaki Karurosu had died, like many others, during that mysterious freeze.

Who was he, then? If he was any Isaki, they would know too soon. If he claimed to be anyone affluent, it was more likely than not they would know soon after, as well. And if he claimed to be nobody, this meeting would end shortly after as he would hold no significance to whoever it was that he would be meeting. Who, then? He was not Akiyama Kari of Stone, an irrelevant student who had died in the woods; neither was he Aoto, a wandering merchant from Snow country. Perhaps, then, an alias would suffice.

They finally arrived.

"Good evening," the puppet turned towards them. There was a scent of lingering death from the puppet. "I am Kurou."

WC: 426​

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[Kairyuu]

Tenken was the first to step out of the carriage. The men with him were hasty to follow and look around. Security was not something he’d had before this whole mess, but apparently he wasn’t as trusted to handle himself as his cousin had been. His hair, much like his eyes, were a baby blue in color. He wore a white robe over dark blue tunic, and pants to match the tunic. On his feet were well made boots of black. He held, in his hand, an intriguing weapon. A staff that was as tall as he, it was made of hard ironwood and had a crystalline blue point capping the foot. At the top was a clear crystal globe held by talons of gold. Inside it flowed colors, but with a lazy, almost forced motion. The colors hadn’t moved for him anything like they did for Hoshikata before.

Osore had sent him the weapon not long before, along with an explanation that it was no longer needed, and he was free of his demon. Which meant the visitor who killed his father had succeeded in his goal. But that was in the past. Tenken lets his eyes move to the other, before walking closer. The robe would open oddly on his steps, revealing a surpisingly muscular form under it.

”And greetings to you, Kurou. I am Isaki Tenken. Might I ask why you have requested my presence here?”

 

[Kari]

He had watched the carriage come. There was more than one who had come from it, yet there was only one who mattered amongst them all. He clad himself in various shades of white and blue, complementing the strange colour of his own hair and the natural colours of the island; he stood out standing tall with that staff and ahead of what the Isaki could only assume were his private guards. It was him, he was the Isaki of this island, the tainter of it. It wasn't much of an appearance, but it was more than enough for a sign of power for what he believed was a stranger. A cousin? What relation was he to the main family? He hadn't ever seen this man before; though given his age now, he might have been a child the last time they had met -- assuming they ever had.

Kurou's eyes were locked onto the staff. Was it a heirloom? Why did it seem so familiar. Where had the man gotten it from? The Isaki of Moon spoke, the puppet's eyes rose from his weapon to his face. "Yes," he grinned slightly, trying to convey himself in a somewhat friendly manner, "I heard you were knowledgeable regarding this place," he paused, glancing over his crowd of lackies, ensuring none recognized the lie - no doubt hired men of the island who knew nothing regarding the politics the man had no doubt engaged in within the city - "and other things. I was hoping we could engage in a trade of sorts."

An Isaki had three weaknesses: money, power, and information. He stepped towards the robed man, extending his hand. "If you wouldn't mind, of course. I have learned of things on the mainland which might be of interest to someone of your standing." Information was integral for the prior to; with it, you could rule an entire country with little effort and without it, you were as good as the farmers not a hundred paces away, slaving in the heat to provide for anyone for mere pennies. Providing for men such as Tenken.

"How much have you heard lately?"

WC: 356​

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[Kairyuu]

Tenken waits as the other sizes him up. So far this wasn’t weird. Well, too weird. The person’s eyes were definitely locked onto the staff, leaving Tenken thinking he should have left the thing in the carriage. It was ill fitted to him, but his possession of it put several of the more prominent clansmen at ease with his leadership. If not for that fact, he’d have thrown it over the side of a boat far out at sea, in a metal box filled with rocks. Never to surface again.

Finally Kurou speaks once more, explaining that he heard Tenken knew about Moon. Tenken certainly hoped so, he’d been living her for the entire time the Isaki clan had left Mist. While he was not his cousin, he had been forced to learn the world of politics to keep the clan afloat in a strange land. Now he shied from that scene as much as he could. This talk of a trade reeked of the kind of scheming his cousin had done.

As the other speaks of information on the mainland, Tenken surmises he means Mist. No other reason he should care. And in truth, even then he didn’t much care. Then the other asks what he’d heard himself lately. Tenken closes his eyes slowly and draws in a breath, exhaling it in a long sigh. Finally he looks back up at the man before him and shakes his head.

”Whatever you want, if I can help I will. But I’m not interested in anything going on on the mainland unless it has to do with some branch of the Isaki clan. I have enough on my hands keeping my family in line as it is.” He had no time for plotting, scheming, power grabbing. He had more power than he ever wanted, right now. And he hated every bit of it due to the corruption his cousin has brought upon the clan.