Chapter 4 Filth

Is thirteen years a lot or a little? As far as I remember from that life, at thirteen a child already thinks of himself as an adult. At that age we considered our judgment and knowledge sufficient to make our own decisions. At thirteen, you start to want everything at once, and you don't care about prohibitions, morals, laws, or anything else, the main thing is that I WANT! And at least the grass won't grow! And this period of teenage rebellion lasts long enough to seriously ruin your life and your parents' nerves and relationships with them, because not everyone has the intelligence and courage to apologize later.

And here I am, Arata Miyazaki, a little over eleven years old, sitting in a large hall, on a special cushion, looking at the hero of the occasion. Yoshihiro Miyazaki is the only son of the clan's heir, a favorite, with an evil smile and oily eyes. This guy, according to the overheard stories (he used shikigami, because I can already do that) of the female workers, has already managed to lift more than one skirt. Even though "the twig has not yet grown into anything," the women said, and then they began to laugh, quietly, but insultingly. Well, I have heard about this: the owner or the elder can "bend" the maid if he wants to. No, then there will be some kind of retribution, but the fact that a woman cannot refuse is delicately left out. And even with such contemptuous laughter in their own circle, women and girls repay the offender. And this impertinent little fellow sits at the head of the party and looks at everyone condescendingly (tries to) as if he feels like the owner. I saw him, watched him with the help of his shikigami, which he could not even notice, and this is the probable heir of the clan that specializes in them! He does not surpass me in anything, neither in teaching nor in practice; in fact, he is inferior in many respects; even calligraphy is hard work for him, not to mention physical training. I must admit that this boy only shoots a bow and arrow, and it comes easily to him. But he even treats the naginata like a mop, by God! But etiquette! But he acts like a prince of an empire! I wouldn't care, but we're sitting on the tatami, and it's not nice to just sit in front of ourselves!

And there were a lot of people for the holiday! And parts of the clan from outlying residences and allies and vassals, of which there were surprisingly few, only three couples came. But a representative of the Emperor arrived with a gift for young Yoshihiro — a Patek watch, for who knows how much. But the watch, we must admit, is fancy, and moreover, enchanting in the most "don't spoil" way! I felt jealous because they didn't celebrate my birthdays, and it doesn't matter that I'm older, it's just insulting, or am I not a person and am forbidden to feel? So I sit there, carefully examining people, chewing expensive meat and fish, drinking tea, listening to conversations. The only interesting thing I caught was a fragment of a sentence about how one of the guests was surprised by a woman from a dead clan who had been seen here somewhere. That's about it. The rest is empty chatter, or discussion of someone completely unknown to me. Oh, I forgot to mention that I was dressed in a conservative dark blue kimono, while everyone around me was dressed in very colorful and obviously expensive clothes. Many wore rings with large stones, women had bright earrings in their ears, and expensive barrettes, knitting needles, and combs in their hair. In short, no one wanted to look modest, and I didn't want to either, but there was no choice. Eh...

And the celebration gained momentum. No one denied themselves anything, everyone ate to their heart's content, drank to their heart's content, whoever wanted to smoke, the smoke was magically dispersed anyway, and there was no stuffiness at all. I watched these aristocrats and thought: "If the boy received the attention of the imperial family, that is, a gift, does that mean that the emperor himself is behaving like these people around him? After it became quite crowded, people started dancing and making even louder noises, creating a pandemonium in the middle of the hall. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't — I was given a specific order that I couldn't leave before the hero of the occasion left. So I sit, bored, watching, because I've already eaten enough, but I don't want to overeat — tomorrow's training will be hard. I just sipped my tea and watched the noisy, intoxicated, and downright drunk people. It even got to the point where some people were putting on carnival masks and making fun of each other. My high school graduation was more civilized, although we also drank, danced, and made friends with the girls. What's going on here? It seems like an aristocracy, but here is such a "truth of life," and how, one wonders, can one remain faithful to principles in such an atmosphere? I'm disappointed in them. They are proud people, they never forget manners, or so it seemed to me. And even though we are all human beings, we all need to relax, but this is already the level of pigs, and I did not accept it even in this life. And this is not an exaggeration, not at all. A good drinking session is one thing, but it is meaningless and merciless. Here, it's not even a drinking party anymore, it's just filth! I saw two married couples exchanging partners in front of everyone, and they started to lick and make out. Middle-aged people! The fact that very often a man and a woman are sitting, communicating with someone, and their hands are in intimate areas, does not need to be mentioned. And this is the norm for everyone. I actually got chills when several men and women put rag masks over half of their faces and started randomly kissing and cheering. After a while, the whole party went deeper into the house. I didn't follow them — and it's clear what they were doing.

I feel attention, or rather I have felt it for several hours in a row, and from time to time I am interested. But this time the source of the attention came to me specifically, and not alone. I move my head slowly, as if examining people, and out of the corner of my eye I spot the head of the clan, along with a middle-aged couple and a girl about nine years old. All of them are dressed traditionally, and traditionally they don't stand out in any way: ordinary, unremarkable clothes, appearance, voices. The head of the clan approached me, stopping one step away from me, and I immediately had to stand up and bow to the old man (these are the maximum bows I do, no matter what, sometimes I just nod where people bend their backs), because he was with strangers to me, and I could not ignore the authority of the head — that would humiliate him in the eyes of others. The clan chief was also tipsy, so he just waved his hand condescendingly at me and smiled contentedly. The people who came with him smiled stupidly, and the girl, like a doll, froze and stared blankly at the crowd. Is she on drugs? Or are they all? I felt a chill run down my spine — I had never seen such blank stares from children before.

— Arata-kun, this is the Mori family, our branch from Hokkaido. Goro-san, Mayuri-san, and their youngest daughter, Hana-chan, your bride. — The head of the clan continued to smile contentedly, but in his eyes there was no, no, and something flashed, something bad, not good for me.

The meaning of the last words did not reach me right away, and I paid little attention to them, but when I did, I fell into a stupor. True, not for very long. What the hell?!

— The bride? — My dry lips immediately seemed to go numb. — Why? — was the best I could say.

— Ho-ho-ho. — The old man laughed out loud. — You shouldn't be surprised, you come from an old family, you carry pure blood, and that can't be ignored. The elders care about the welfare of our family, so they choose a worthy couple for the youth to preserve the purity and strength of the blood. Hana-chan is a worthy party, her ancestors have served our family for many generations, and her strong blood has long glorified the temple that the Mori family cares for.

As I digest what I have heard, I catch a glimpse of the Mori couple fawning over the old man, praising their daughter and showering her with promises and gratitude for the honor. I did not like their self-deprecating behavior, and these people immediately became deeply unpleasant. My soul is completely distraught. Trying to hold on to something, I looked at the girl. No, this is a complete mess: the child is completely motionless, she even blinks very rarely.

The eyes are absolutely empty, the face is expressionless, and it doesn't stand out for beauty, or at least cuteness. Absolutely, absolutely, without a doubt, an empty humanized doll. I don't even feel any special vitality in it. I was taught not only to feel magic, and with the help of a special trance even to see magical patterns, but also to feel the life force, the Yang energy. So Yang is not only a physical, physical embodiment, but also the desire to live, the natural thirst. As a girl, Yang is extremely calm, even indifferent, as if she lives by inertia and has no desires. I can't imagine how this is possible, but I have no desire to take a piece of childish flesh as a wife. What the hell do I need her for? Even if the magic in it is strong, with a taste of freshness and pine resin, but besides being an incubator for offspring, a human being has to be a human being! It was as if something inside me trembled, pulsed, and a wave of warmth spread through my body, washing away the numbness and shock. It became easier to think. I was about to say something when the old man spoke again.

— Hana-chan is one year younger than you, so we'll celebrate your wedding in three years. — the old man said with a satisfied smile. — And now you should take a walk among the guests, it is inappropriate to avoid friends and relatives by hiding in the corner! — The clan chief finished and left with Mori.

Hmmm, what a gift fate has given me! You can't ignore the Clan Chief's words, so you have to get up and go hang out with the drunks. There seemed to be more people in the crowd, otherwise why did it get so crowded when there was plenty of room to sit? Servants, children, teenagers were constantly passing by. What could we do? We must think of something to get rid of this "honor". If only I could meet my father... Over the years, I have learned that my father is the second son of the chief, the third child in the family — Hiro. From the rumors it turned out that the man was not a fighter — his character was not the same, but he was an excellent professional in business and economics. It turns out that he has not shown himself in this estate for twelve years, being on the road all the time. Now, it seems, he is somewhere in the southern islands, where they not only grow exotic foods such as vegetables and fruits, but also have farms with magical creatures and plants. Although, most likely, he would not have helped me in any way, as he had never seen his only son in all that time. We have to look for other ways, because one or two plans may not work.

And yet, how can they be so insolent? Aren't you disgusted? Even Rome loved to celebrate without restrictions, and where is this Rome? Passing through another dense group of dancing people, I feel someone's close, familiar attention. A hand rests gently but firmly on my shoulder and I stop, turning slightly. A woman with familiar eyes crouches beside him. Our gazes meet and a shiver runs through me, with the warmth of the kinship of magic, terribly familiar, almost identical. The woman looked into my eyes for a few seconds, then suddenly embraced me, pressing me against her. I feel her trembling and shortness of breath, and her magic seems to have turned into an octopus that wraps itself around me, but this does not cause any discomfort.

— How you have grown, my son...— a woman whispers into my ear, stroking my head. — My Sora...

— My name is Arata...— I answer quietly.

The woman pulls back to look me in the eyes.

— Hoshino Sora, son of Hoshino Junko, my son, — the woman says firmly. — I gave you the name Sora and it's your real one, don't let thieves steal the last one!

— Are you my mother? — I feel that this is true, but I need to hear it, to see the confirmation in her eyes. In spite of this life, I feel a kinship with this woman, a kinship I have never felt with anyone before. It cannot be put into words, you just know that this is your family.

— Yes," the woman nods confidently, continuing to look into his eyes. — We don't have much time, so I have to tell you the most important things, and then, if you want, you can find out more. Or, if you're lucky, I'll tell you. — I nod slowly. — Okay. Our Hoshino Clan was blessed by the gods in the light of the stars, hence the name of the clan. Our strength and longevity have always been the envy of others, and our traditions have allowed us to remain unblemished. For centuries, our blades have served the Emperor faithfully, upholding the order of the Covenant. Fifteen years ago, the head of the Miyazaki clan wanted to seal the alliance by marrying his eldest son to the first princess of the Hoshino clan. But we have a tradition: every young warrior, and there were all of them in the clan, has a pair of ritual tantos. The couple must fight, and if the male wins, or at least the fight ends in a draw, then there is a wedding. The couple exchange blades, and the blades are passed down to the children. Miyazaki's eldest son lost in a duel, which showed his weakness — the Hime of the clan could not marry someone whose strength was not even comparable to hers. The duel was always fought in front of witnesses, and the Miyazakis saw this as a humiliation to their honor. A clan war began, and the emperor retreated. Blood was shed for more than three years. Hoshino massacred more than a dozen enemy vassal clans, completely destroying all the men and strong women. But there were too many of them — we were simply showered with corpses, and the Hoshino clan fell. I, the youngest daughter of an elderly family, was taken alive, drugged, and kept in that state until I was born. — The woman's voice trembled noticeably, and there were tears in her eyes, but she did not break eye contact. — The only time I saw you was when you were washed and wrapped in diapers. — Then, five years ago, you remembered. — I nodded, I didn't have the strength to speak. — I can't pass on our clan's martial arts techniques and laws, but that's not important. The most important thing is that you know who you are, who your mother is, and who the rapist father of the thieves' clan is. Our blood will tell us who we really are, and since this has happened, only you can decide what our clan will be next. And this, — the woman took an oval pendant with a pale blue translucent stone in the center, on a thin chain, from around her neck. — The last legacy of the family, a gift from the parents to the child, as usual. — With these words, the pendant ended up around my neck, hidden in my clothes. — To open it, draw the letter "Star" on it with your blood. And finally, don't look for our libraries — I personally destroyed them when I saw the death of the last soldiers, which is why I was captured alive. — The woman embraced me again, kissed me on the cheek, looked into my eyes, her impossible lilac with a silver sparkle. — Live, my son, and do not be sad for those who have died — our souls are always welcome guests in the heavenly palaces. — With these words, the woman rose and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

I stood there watching her, feeling the lack of native magic, with a taste of the coolness of the night and the green grass. Without knowing something, one cannot regret his or her loss. I felt the absence of the one who should have been there from birth. There was a pain in my chest, I felt tired in my body and in my soul. I didn't even notice how familiar maids appeared nearby, pulling me somewhere. The rest of the celebration passed in a fog, everything blurred into gray images that I didn't even try to remember. In some unknown way, I ended up in my room, undressed, in bed (yes, they sleep on beds here, not futons), but I didn't think about anything and fell asleep immediately.