Ink Stained

60: kyoto, day four (1)*

京都市、四日目

The east wing of the Palace was where the guests' rooms were, and where the Royal Family lived in private, sealed-off quarters of their own.

One particular garden of the many scattered throughout the Palace was the only relatively quiet and peaceful place that Pai could find for solitude. Of course, there were still gardeners and land sweepers who tended to the earth and watered the shrubs and big-leafed plants that grew wild in a strangely tamed manner, but they paid her no heed. As far as they knew, she was just another guest who needn't be bothered by them.

Shiori had gone with Kouta for the signing of the Treaties, again. She'd only managed to drop by Pai's room for a quick hug Shiori said she wouldn't make through the day without, and then gone off. Pai wouldn't see her again until the evening meal.

She had started to take her mostly uneaten meals to her room rather than be out in the large common room with the other Daitengu who shared their meal together as they always did. She didn't want them to catch wind of the low spirits plaguing her since the outing with Shin went south, especially after how good it had been going until that horrible moment.

It was midday, and she lay back on the soft grass under the cool shade of a large tree. She was staring vacuously up at the leaves rustling in the gentle wind that breezed through the trees in the garden, ruffling her clothes, swimming over her skin. As the leaves shifted, sliding over each other, little patches of sunlight managed to peek through, warming what parts of her the rays could touch.

The tree she lay under was hidden behind a tall hedge at the far end of the garden, at least as tall as her waist. Lying down, there was no way anyone would see her unless they came past the hedge. No one did because it was right at the end of the garden, close to the wall surrounding the whole Palace.

She was glad for it. At least then no one would see her and wonder why she had spent the better part of the last three hours hardly moving on the ground. Maybe someone would think she was dead.

She didn't know that she would mind if she was.

A lump of black fur pressed against her side stirred, and she glanced down, though she didn't make a move to stand. No one was in the garden except for the gardeners. She was alone save for a black cat that had appeared out of nowhere as she walked through the Palace's halls. The cat stubbornly stuck by her side the whole morning.

The cat stood now, luxuriously stretching his forearms in front of himself, arching his back, finally waking from his nap. His fur was black as coal, and his paws were white, like he was wearing socks. There were no other distinguishable marks on him, except for the fact that his sleek tail was split in two. Around the cat's neck was a dark blue leather thong that held a single silver bell on it, though it made no sound as the cat walked slowly around her head. There was no tag attached to the collar, which looked more like a necklace than a collar, though there was a name etched into the round silver face of the bell; Sato.

Just that. Just Sato.

She didn't know if the cat was Nekomata, Ayakashi that became cats, or if he was a regular cat that was just becoming Ayakashi, as Bakeneko were. The cat – Sato – didn't act any more human than occasionally sitting and staring intently into her eyes without making a sound. She doubted that said much about whether or not he was human, considering every single cat in existence had perfected the art of making humans ill at ease by staring at them for uncomfortably long periods of time.

She didn't feel any heat or cold as she reached out and petted him, bringing her hand up from his head, along the arch of his back, and to the top of one tail. Sato purred, the sound running like a little motor in his belly as she scratched his tailbone.