Chapter One-Hundred and Eleven: Shimeko’s Diary: Antwon and the Lunar Queen

Christina's Arc: Bend or Break

"Well, this is peculiar," Yoshime said while reading what I instructed Shimeko to write in the dirt with Yoshime's blade. Two women lay dead on the floor, and the remaining prisoner had pissed herself at the thought of dying.

Shit, I just wrote the next four or five generations of queens on the freaking floor. But I didn't know which queen to circle: Christine or Christina. I mean, they both claimed me…right?

"Shimeko, my tiger lily, can you read any of this?" Yoshime asked her daughter.

Shimeko looked over the characters carefully, drinking in each symbol. Then a thought occurred: I didn't know if Shimeko could read. I've only seen her draw dragons and copy kanji, but not read or write.

"No, Mommy. I no," she sobbed.

I'd sob, too, if I had to kill someone as a kid.

"It's okay, my evening flower."

One of the guards walked over to Yoshime. She looked at the kanji, then at Yoshime.

"Your Grace—"

"Sister," Yoshime said to a different guard. "Take my daughter back to her room, and have her cleaned up. She shouldn't be bathed in blood for too long. As for you," Yoshime said to the third guard, "get this child cleaned up as well."

"Your Grace, do you truly believe…any of this? We should execute her for—"

Yoshime held up her fist, silencing the guards.

"Why are you all still standing here?"

A guard picked up Shimeko and carried her out of the dungeon.

"Alright, you lucky fucker, get your ass up and follow behind my sister, but don't get too close. I won't hesitate to cut you down myself."

With that, the prisoner was gone. Yoshime studied the kanji with the remaining guard.

"Your Grace, do you truly believe a spirit guided your daughter's hand? What if she—"

"My daughter cannot read or write; she only knows the blade as her pen and blood as her ink. I forbid my husband from teaching her. So, I know my gem couldn't have written this. Did you read it?"

The guard turned her attention back toward the kanji.

"It's poorly written, but I think it says:

"Yoshime Shiranui—the fan's beauty,

"Shimeko Kisaragi—the martial genius,

"Trish Tetsusen—the dragon of blood and iron,

"Christina Tsukikage,

"Christine Tsukikage, and both Tsukikage are circled.

"What does it mean, Your Grace?"

"The dragon of blood and iron… Look there," Yoshime said, pointing at Shimeko's name. "I've heard of the name Kisaragi, but from where?"

…

"I think I know, Your Grace. If I'm not mistaken, and I very well may be, it's linked to the Veil."

"Tsk. Then the spirit is implying that Shimeko takes a boy from the Veil… Why the hell would I allow such a union? What would the Iron Fan gain?"

Yoshime wiped blood from her forehead.

"Your Grace—"

"Enough of the formalities, Kako. We are alone."

…

"Yes, Yoshime. I don't think… I don't know if we can take this ghost thing seriously."

"Then explain to me how Shimeko knows the word consort, how she can write characters she's never seen or learned, and how she knows what the hell a golden-dragon frame represents?"

The guard swallowed deeply.

"Maybe…Ren—"

Yoshime's eyes grew wide.

"I-I mean Mr. Shiranui—"

Yoshime grabbed the woman by her shoulder, and she tensed.

"I would never imply that he disobeyed you, just that maybe a servant boy had gotten too close."

"I think the smell of death has clouded your mind, Kako. Let's leave this place and have someone with fresh lungs drag the corpses to the surface. After all, I'm not a monster. We will send them home, so their families can burn their bodies."

Kako nodded.

"Yes, and let's have your wounds attended to."

***

I followed Yoshime around because I was too much of a coward to sit with Shimeko's trauma. I hadn't seen the prisoner since we exited the dungeon. Instead, I was stuck watching Yoshime receive medical treatment from a bunch of men and one female doctor. Kako, however, told Yoshime that she would be back because she wanted to get her treatment with the rest of the wounded to tally up a death count.

Now, the fan's beauty and I were just hanging out in her office. Yoshime wrote the maternal line I wrote in dirt on paper, which pissed me off because I didn't want it recorded… But I wasn't in a position to tell her off.

She sat behind her desk, which wasn't Trish's current desk, and looked through paperwork. Of course I had to check. The documents were for soldiers who had died in combat. There must have been hundreds of them, and Yoshime was sending dividends to families, which sort of made her a less shitty person.

She thumbed through another folder. The girl couldn't be any older than eighteen or nineteen. Yoshime wrote deceased under status, wrote the location, and then wrote with honor. Then she slipped a hefty check into her folder and closed it.

Yup, Trish could never be this chill; she would have brought out a bottle by now. I turned toward the door. No one had barged in, no one was knocking, and Yoshime was allowed to sit alone. I half expected the parents of these girls to kick down her door.

Yoshime sighed.

"What the hell does it mean?" she asked, and then she ran her fingers through her hair.

She grabbed another folder, but her phone rang, so she set it back down. Yoshime answered without even glancing at the caller ID, which made sense. She's the queen, so only a few people had her number, right?

She pressed the speaker button.

"What is it?" Yoshime asked.

So warm and inviting, Yoshime.

"You deplorable wretch of a woman. Have you no honor, Yoshime Shiranui?"

Yoshime rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair.

"You and your wretched mother started this war, and now you attack a training regiment whose sole purpose is to police within my territory. On top of that, my soldiers report that you took five hostages. For what? So you could torture them, because you cannot beat me?"

"Ah, Tsukiko Amayori. It's always so pleasant to hear from you. How's the weather? How's the Moonbind?"

…

Who the hell is Tsukiko Amayori?

"What did you do with them, Yoshime?"

"Oh, nothing really. I've just introduced them to Iron Fan hospitality. You know, a day at the spa, a few sweets, and a couple of charming young men to start things off."

"A cracked skull and slit throat are hardly what I'd call a spa day," I said, knowing two of them were dead. But she said five women were taken. I only know of three.

"You lying filth. You cracked their skulls and slit their throats."

Yoshime sat up in her chair.

"Did you kill all of them in such shameless ways?" Tsukiko asked.

…

"I don't know where you are getting your information, but you are incorrect, queen of fools."

I sighed.

"Yoshime's kind of right. After all, I only saw her kill one woman with a hammer. Her daughter killed the other one."

Images of Shimeko's shaking hands flashed before my eyes.

The woman on the phone gasped.

"Shiranui, you have a daughter?"

Yoshime rose from her chair, face red hot, and stared at the phone.

"Who says I have a daughter, Tsukiko?"

"Oh, my. From that response, it must be true." Then she laughed.

"Do you think this is funny, Tsukiko? I'll find your informant and break them!" Yoshime shouted. Then she circled the desk and left the room, fuming.

"Well, at least it's, like, violence amongst grown women, which still isn't ideal."

"And why is that, young man?"

"Well, I can't stomach women hurting each other. I'm much more adjusted to male violence…"

I stared at the phone.

"That's odd. Male violence is forbidden in Kokiri. It's even punishable by death or branding."

…

"Wait, you can hear me?"

"Boy, you speak to the lunar Queen of the Moonbind Covenant. Show some respect, and, at least, make it sound like you've prostrated yourself."

…

"Piss off. You shouldn't be able to hear me. I mean, Yoshime and her goons can't hear or see me, so why can you?"

…

"If you cannot be perceived, then are you a spirit?"

"No."

"Are you an astral being?"

"I'm just a fifteen-year-old boy who happened to visit the past and wishes he didn't."

"Ah, so you are a boy with immense spiritual power that can journey back into the past. Tell me, what is your focus?"

…

I leaned closer to the phone.

"I-I like history, but classic literature is a strong second."

"No, you fool. I'm not asking what your favorite subject is. What tool must you use to traverse the damn past?"

I tried to hang up, but I couldn't touch the phone.

"Screw you, you stupid memory. I don't have to take this shit from you, or anyone else!"

"Such a filthy fucking mouth!"

"Speak for your damn self!"

…

"You insolent little putrid boy. This may be a memory to you, but this is real to the rest of us. Just how far into the future are you?"

"Like hell I'd tell you. You and Yoshime are a bunch of warmongering assholes. Giving you any information about the future is a nail in the coffin."

I heard the sound of something being hit coming through the phone.

"You're so annoying!"

"If you're a queen, why don't you sound all regal, and shit?"

She scoffed.

"Why would I posture for a fucking spirit who doesn't even know what his focus is?"

Damn, this conversation is beneath me… Shit, now I'm starting to sound like Christina.

"This is a memory, and you can't prove me wrong."

"Brat! Okay, okay. This isn't going anywhere, so I've decided to take a more refined approach. Brat, what can I do to convince you to tell me how fucking far into the future you are?"

"There's nothing? No information you want?" Tsukiko asked.

Shit, what could she tell me that I couldn't find out in the future?

"Shut up. You've got nothing I couldn't find out on my own. I doubt you're even alive anymore."

…

"Well, what the hell do you know, brat? I'm young and elegant, strong and formidable. I'll live for as long as I need. So, shut your putrid mouth!"

"There is no way in hell you'll live for one hundred and fifty years. What are you, like eighty now?"

…

I think I messed up…

"You don't know, brat. I'm most likely still on my fucking throne. No, I'm likely on the Court's throne. Hell, it's probably not even called that anymore."

"Oh, you arrogant prune. I don't even like the Iron Fan, but to think someone like you would ever assume… Screw you. I'm wise to you now."

I heard clapping through the phone.

"Well, well, well. You're just as dumb as I assumed you were. Thanks for the information, so I'll bequeath knowledge upon your supple mind, for my benevolence is as giving as our mother moon. Your focus instrument is whatever you were holding when sent here. So, tell me, brat, can you see anything or only hear?"

Oh…but I already knew that Shimeko's diary brought me here. But they're only memories…but she said—

"Let's say you're right—"

"I am."

I blinked slowly.

"Could I, say, do this with other focuses, like visit other points in the past?"

"That depends. What's your focus?"

I'm not falling for that shit again.

"A woman's bra."

…

"Seriously? That's kind of hot."

I guess some things never change, even in the past.

"Whatever, I'm leaving—"

"Wait! Prove it to me—"

I crossed my arms, but then I remembered that it's a phone call.

"Why should I prove anything to you? You're an asshole, and so is Yoshime."

"Whatever! I'm an asshole. Shut up and listen. Call me in the future. Sure, I might be dead, but I'll tell my descendants to leave a bra for you—"

"Okay, wait… Just, you know, leave some writing or something."

…

Tsukiko clicked her tongue.

"Screw you. I'll do as you asked, but you're still getting a bra, and you can bet your ass it'll smell just like me."

What a perverted queen. Well, I'd better go find Shimeko. I think I owe her that much.

I turned around, hoping Yoshime had left the—

Yoshime, Kako, the prisoner, and a few guards were all standing there, slack-jawed, and I wasn't sure how much they had heard.