"Must we truly descend to such depths? Chigusa Clan, Rokujou Clan, and Iwakura Clan... Those clans regard the Mikado Clan as utterly inconsequential, and they are unequivocally unworthy of the mantle of Generalissimo. Your desire to rub them any possibility to seize that mantle is indeed justified if we are to secure triumph in the Eastern Expedition. Regarding Nakanoin Clan... While I abhor the notion of being perceived as a mere prize, and setting aside my personal sentiments, I find it impossible to recognize him in any capacity. Then, who shall ascend to the eminent title of Generalissimo? Surely, you must have discerned who amongst us is truly worthy. It is not as if I harbor any trepidation."
The Generalissimo of the Eastern Expedition wields the fate of the country within their regal grasp. This exalted mantle, shimmering with honor, rightfully belongs to the Koga Clan, and Rindou felt an inexorable compulsion to seize that exalted position. Though the crushing weight of expectation descends upon her like an unrelenting tempest, surrender is a notion she cannot fathom.
"I shall not claim to be entirely equipped for this formidable role. Yet, should the fates conspire to render it inescapable, I shall grasp it with unyielding fortitude."
"Magnificent, Lady Eboshi. Such resolute determination befits your noble essence. Yet, I beseech you what inner disquiet plagues your thoughts? It is the solemn duty of any general to command their warriors to a variant end. If I must elucidate my apprehensions, let it be declared; the battle has already been set into motion. Your sentimentality favors not inconsequential bloodshed, for that, I assure you, this bloodshed will have its monumental significance."
"I am acutely aware."
"Then..."
"I—"
Rindou, forcing herself from the depths of her reverie, uttered a word—an elegant rebuke to quell the next remark lingering on Ryuumei's lips.
It barely crossed her mind, lost as she was in her distant musings whether Ryuumei might truly believe in such a notion.
"I yearn to believe. I yearn to believe in the valorous champions who may fall by my command, and surrender wholly to the dictates of my will. I yearn to extoll the brilliance of the loyalty, the unyielding valor within them... To honor them as the indomitable sentinels of our home. And I seek to rise to the height of such devotion. Tell me, Lady Ryuumei, is this aspiration not the very essence of a general's purpose?"
Perhaps, she was naught but another type of naïve maiden. And yet, in spite of that opinion, she could not dismiss this conviction, believing it to be an indispensable virtue.
Martyrs, paragons, champions... There exists an abundance of words to convey the nature of valor, yet in her estimation, seldom was it lavished upon those worthy of that grandeur, those whose courage was unmarred by pretense.
"They would not hesitate to sacrifice themselves for the love of their motherland, family, friends, and lover. Be that you are a commoner or an Aberrant, you are my companions so long you have the will to fight for others. I will uphold the legacy of their feelings even if I command them to die, as this is my duty as the head of Koga Clan. Regrettably, the merciless truth brazenly desecrates the sanctity of my ideals. These vacuous narcissists possess not a trace of genuine virtue—stripped of benevolence, emptied of righteousness, barren of devotion, wisdom, or even the faintest whisper of filial piety. They clutch only their own pride, the hollow in their ego is boundless. I cannot, in good conscience, consign them to die, for they would meet death with a sickening glee. And yet, I cannot bear to impart my resolve to those harboring sordid aims. To let them die bereft of purpose would be a failure in itself."
"Not because you are unpleasant with them?"
"I would never beg you to understand my side of reasoning."
Her voice descended, steeped in quiet resignation, yet bearing a resolute dignity.
"I hold the bond, and connection between people as a treasure beyond measure—I crave to connect with others to the bottom of the heart to the root of the heart a notion whose name eludes even me. Never have I seen it, yet I would rather deny the world than concede its absence from this world. Call me a fool, if you wish, say that I am a lunatic bewitched by some impossible ideal, yet my faith shall not falter. The Eastern Expedition has become a real struggle of survival for our future. I would not dream of retreat, nor would I reject the mantle of this battle, even if I was left to be unsated. It is a sorrowful turth, but I find no champion among my clan—not for lack of skills or courage, but for their incapacity to sympathize with my belief. I am driven to claim the mantle of the General of Conquest, and for this, the Imperial Tournament must be mine. In this endeavor, I seek a warrior to represent my clan—one who, upon my command, would embrace death without hesitation. This, the barest measure of devotion, is the least I ask of them."
'I yearn, at the least, to sympathize with the deepest parts of their heart.' Rindou mused, her gaze tracing Ryuumei's stoic countenance.
"Just one would be sufficient. If destiny casts me as the hand that commands a legion of ten thousand, a hundred thousand to their doom, I would seek to embrace even just a single soul in a bond beyond mere words, a concept that might not even exist, however..."
'How might one describe such yearning?' the thought lingered as her words drifted, nearing the edge of silence, her purpose wavering when she was at a loss how to convey her message—
"The soul, is it? And, you yearn for its salvation."
Rindou flinched, struck by the quiet, almost ethereal murmur from Ryuumei.
"The soul...?"
"The silent depth you strain to unearth—what lies buried in the heart's abyss—is the thing they once called 'soul.' A term all but extinguished, a relic from a forgotten age, left to linger solely in my memory. After all, common sense dictates death as mere closure, nothing more nothing less. In that sense, how you live is equivalent to how you die, none can perceive anything there is nothing beyond the cliff. Donner, Totentanz... Dance of the dead, in a foreign tongue."
"Dance of the dead..."
She repeated it softly, casting a sidelong gaze at Ryuumei, who spoke of such somber certainties on a notion that reflects the ultimate truth of this world. In that instant, Rindou found herself wholly bereft of words, silence by a revelation she dared not deny.
Ryuumei's wisdom was undeniable layered, and profound, befitting one venerated amongst the elderly. Indeed, it seems natural for her to unearth the word, 'soul' —a notion Rindou scarcely understood—from some ancient, forgotten scripture.
Yet could that word truly encompass the truth of the world? Rindou sensed there must be more—a hidden facet that lingered just beyond her grasp...
"Indeed, I do share your sentiment. Attempting to enunciate a belief that resides beyond the reasons of this world is certainly uneasy to achieve. Even I, too, did not and fail to comprehend its very core. Then allow me to distill such a notion, if I may, refined through the lens of years that I alone possess. You believe there is something even beyond death itself. You see the soul in the heart as eternal, and wish for the soul to arrive in a better place. Regrettably, this world brims with wretches, myself being one of them, blind to the soul's existence and the promise of afterlife. They stumble, actors in a pitiful masquerade, hence, you yearn to liberate them from the darkness of ignorance. And so, you believe that only bonds between people may lift them from their folly, and that only a champion, adorned that virtue, is fit to lead as their general. So, then, you assert that 'just one is enough' Am I mistaken in my understanding?"
"No..."
Indeed, as Ryuumei so astutely observed, Rindou found herself at a loss of words, but Ryuumei's explanation encapsulated her own vague sentiments, leaving her stunned by its precision.
And with this, her perplexity deepened, as she faltered under the weight of confusion to Ryuumei's cryptic nature.
"How dreadfully frustrating. We are not making progress. We have resolved to crown you Generalissimo, yet we flounder without a method to realize this ambition. To secure a triumph as the Koga Clan's chosen representative appears an unattainable dream, for we remain tragically bereft of the necessary talent for such a role. Indeed, an utterly exaggerating predicament, the epitome of trouble, without a doubt."
Ryuumei's shoulder trembled with a barely contained laugh, her voice weaving what could only be described as a poem. A lament in tone, yet within its mournful cadence lingered a subtle praise for Rindou.
With an air of deliberate finality, Ryuumei straightened, her posture regal as she cast a sidelong glance—one so heavy with meaning. Her gaze was a statement, one that required no further clarification.
"No matter, we still have time. When the New Year graces us, I shall dispatch a messenger to you. By then, I expect you to have reached a conclusion. Select a retainer who is bound to you by bonds, you must find them by your heart. And, preferably, one who harbors love for you—that would be very convenient."
"What...!"
"Now, there's no need to wear such a scary expression."
Ryuumei rose with an air of effortless composure, as though she could sway the very winds of fury aimed at her. From the depths of her pocket, she extracted a single, fragile sheet of paper, presenting it to Rindou.
Rindou could not hold her astonishment upon receiving the piece of paper.
"Is this..."
"A list of those whose participation has been confirmed thus far. An assembly of most formidable talents on its own right, don't you think? The Kujou Clan, and the Kyogetsu Clan; legendary martial arts, and Legendary Distortions. Though the pairings remain unknown to me, I know well that my daughter would meet certain ruin were these to be her opponent."
"!!!"
That inevitable outcome loomed before her mind's eye, Rindou felt the weight of those names spoken by Ryuumei. The presence of these names would mean this has escalated into an affair of immeasurable weight.
In her mind's eye, a visage appeared—the familiar face of s young girl who had grown beside her, as dear as a sister.
"Would it not be prudent, perhaps, no spare no time in locating a worthy candidate—unless, of course, you intend to witness Ryuusui's inevitable downfall?"
"Not that I would be troubled, of course, should you choose to allow such an inevitability to reach its fruition."
"Are you truly Ryuusui's mother?"
"Oh? And what precisely does that imply? If, in your view, I'm a lunatic, then so be it. A mother, willingly offering her daughter to the service of her nature—is that not admirable? I would call it intoxicating. In any event, may I remind you, this matter looms far greater than Ryuusui alone."
Ryuumei's voice fell into a glacial tone, its chill evoking a steely, unfeeling ruthlessness.
"You are the General, Lady Eboshi. Let this truth sink into your very bones. You must not seek if you crave for trust: rather, you must enrapture, ensnare, and drown your soldiers in a sea of madness -ideal-! Such is the orthodox, time-honored doctrine of the Koga Clan, sovereigns of the Rindou-Guruma!"
"…"
"That, I believe, is all that needs to be conveyed. When at last you have chosen a suitable candidate, inscribe their name upon this parchment and entrust it to my messenger. Ah, yes... Happy New Year, Lady Eboshi."
"Wait—"
Yet Rindou's attempt to halt Ryuumei's exit proved futile; her words faded to nothingness, leaving her stranded in the solemn, lingering hush that filled the now-empty room.
"…"
What task should she fulfill? What mission must she accomplish? Her thoughts twisted and coiled, ensnaring her in an endless labyrinth, each turn more elusive, leaving her incapable of drawing a decisive conclusion.
Those who can perceive the madness within themselves may yet to have a semblance of sanity; only lunatics of true insanity remain blind to the distinction between right and wrong, deaf to the whisper of conscience.
Perhaps it was so. Whether it be Ryuumei or others of their rigid convictions, they matched with unwavering certitude, their beliefs rendered indomitable by fervor. And yet here stood Rindou—isolated in this vast unforgiving world—her soul echoing with the wailing of hesitation, and fragmented by agony.
Then, does Rindou Koga dwell among the sane? The tapestry of reality branded her as an outlier, a heretic, exiled from the fold. For in the end, everything boils down to the number of those similar to you to draw the boundary between the sane and the insane.
Thus was the edict of common sense, that binding veil by which societies persist, and the collective takes form—no matter the shape it assumes, nor the masks it wears.
A country, colossal, and monolithic, stands as the grandest example, yet while she cherishes it deeply, she cannot wholly embrace its ideal, for something within her rebels at its very essence.
"What strange affliction plagues me...?"
She gropes blindly for the answers, yet reason slips away, dissolving like a fog before the unforgiving dawn.
Is she not, at her core, merely railing against the world's refusal to kneel to her desires? A tantrum clothed in loftier aims?
And would that not, in truth, branded Rindou Koga as another one, albeit merely an anomalous breed amongst the narcissists, one who revelled in her unique and solitary ideal world?
"No...!"
She desperately wishes to believe otherwise, yearning for the embrace of a champion who dares to echo that very wish of hers.
Just one is sufficient. In her soul's desperate prayer, she seeks that solitary companion, a being whose very essence is intertwined with hers by the soul...
Enshrouded by a profound, inexpressible isolation, Rindou, with a heavy heart, wished to be erased from the very fabric of existence, as if she had never been.