"If that's truly what will make you happy," Bokushi says.

The sword falls.

"Grandson."

The staff clatters to the ground from a now-slack hand.

"I thought I was doing so," Bokushi says. "And if he was in peril there as he is here, at least here, he eats better. As do you.

"On that, have you eaten?"

"Death finds us all, eventually," Bokushi says. "Although it does sometimes seem to pass some by in favor of others. "But you were dead upon the waves before," he continues. "Why would you not be as driftwood again, and for little effect? Why would you not aid your father?" His voice is almost plead...

"'They,' who?" Bokushi asks, leaning forward on the staff. "One way's clear enough; what's the other?"

"And what makes you think your father wants to die?"

Bokushi leans on his staff.

"A man I once knew would have wanted to see you safe," Bokushi says, "and he would have wanted to see your father happy. I don't think the former will be the case on the waves. I damned well know the latter won't be if you sail out now."

"For you to live."

Bokushi continues to look at the young man.

"Do you think you are safer on the waves than here? Yes, you were attacked, but the attack was turned back; do you think you'll be so fortunate on your own?"

"Mostly dead," Bokushi replies flatly. "One quite recently. Thought I might've found a couple of new members, though."

The old monk looks at the young ronin. "It's a hard thing for a parent to lose their child, you know."

"It seems there might be one waiting for you," Bokushi says. "Perhaps two.

"But it's less easy to give up an name and take up another than to give up a family."

His voice rings with experience.

"I've walked more than a few paths," he says.

"I suppose I should introduce myself," he adds, bowing. "I'm called Bokushi in this life. And you're Ryunosuke, son of Tatsuya, son of the Fortune, unless my eyes and ears got a lot worse all of a sudden."

"Where're you off to, young man?"

A fantastically bearded man stands directly behind Ryunosuke, wrapped in a straw cloak and leaning on a staff.

"And in the middle of the night, no less?"

"Then I will ensure he is found and brought here," Bokushi says. "As it must be."

"Unless he needs to be flatly out of it," Bokushi replies. "That is, of course, the Empress's decision to make, and entirely her own. But the matter wouldn't have been mentioned if it hadn't been thought important." He sighs. "It may be past an issue of what anyone wants . But then, it's always past...

"Honestly, after today, it might not be that Family doing it," Bokushi says, nodding at the surrounding Miharu. "With potential heir, there's potential danger, after all, and while some of them might be able to do some good in a fight, the risk is...high."

"Like I said, some things never do change," Bokushi says, smiling sadly behind his beard.

"Such as delight in seeing an Otomo presented with adverse paperwork."

Bokushi pulls a pouch from his belt. From within, he produces a bundle in a small twist of paper. He opens it, showing it to the Miharu as a simple bit of ginger candy.

He then offers it to the Empress with something like a grin.

There is something like a snort of laughter from behind the beard.

"That list is handy," Bokushi says. "But, no. I have a good idea where he--Tatsuya--is. It's not a comfort, but it's not a surprise that he's where he is."

The monk looks at the Empress. "I'll make sure he's gotten here," he says.

"Doubtful," Bokushi replies. Such of his cheeks as can be seen about the voluminous beard have the decency to redden slightly. "I don't know him, either, and only learned his name...not long enough ago." Another heavy sigh. "Given his parentage--and that parentage is clear--however...some thought mu...

"If I had had wisdom," Bokushi says, "all this might have been avoided."

He sighs.

"But in other lives--no, that doesn't matter now. What does is that she had a son. "

And there it is.