Higshikawa District Scorpion Party 4-8-14



Taitsu;

This evening I was privileged, I suppose, to attend a party being hosted by the Scorpion clan in the Higshikawa district of Otosan Uchi. There were many attendees. So many, in fact, that the celebration spread over several buildings with mazelike streets festooned in ribbons and banners of scarlet and black. I won’t lie, I got lost a time or two trying to find my way, but I think I have the method of their madness down now.

I wore the kimono your family gave me when I succeeded at my gempukku. Such brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows, I don’t have the first clue how that amazing cloth was dyed. I do remember, though, when I tried it on and I saw your eyes light up. I remember you telling me that it complimented my eyes very nicely. I know that you will be graduating soon, and I hope that our teachers still intend to assign you as my yojimbo. Even if they do not, though, I will have to find as magnificent a gift as the one you have given me.

Although the party was well-attended, only a few people stick out in my memory. The first was a Bayushi woman, Katsumi, who, according to the Doji she entered with, was one of our hosts. She has a quick, sharp wit, and a cunning mind. I can’t say I’m surprised, of course, as that’s precisely what you’d expect from a Scorpion, but she also seems friendly enough. She didn’t once try to tempt me into anything at all. Of course, I’m sure that that will change if I spend much more time in her presence, but hopefully by then, I will have you to steer me true. I also met a small Doji woman, Isaoko, who carries a katana that almost certainly ways as much as she does. She, like Katsumi, had that kind of classic beauty one ascribes to the Crane, and the Doji in particular, but I found my attention diverted quite easily from her. She had barely any personality, and seemed to prefer to blend into the walls rather than be noticed. What kind of Doji is that? I would not speak ill of someone I have just met, but I cannot imagine that her family is proud of her. Her mother was trained at the Kakita academy in some form of art or another, and her father is, likewise, trained at the Kakita academy, although he trained, I am told, as an iaijutsu master. Kano Fujiki, a boorish man with ties to the Crab Clan made quick friends with Tsuruchi Yuudai, who I have never heard of, but he was quite loud with his name. Yuudai’s clothing was made of some cloth I didn’t recognize, in black and gold. The cut and style was likewise unfamiliar to me, and he wore leather shoes that came up past his ankle. Between the two of them, I am fairly certain they scandalized the entire party. The final group I was treated to was likewise scandalizing. Three Moto and a tiny Otaku woman, Rahim, Khalid, Shinji, and Iffa respectively, were telling terrible jokes. They were, at least, amusing in that respect. My personal favourite, if such a thing exists, was Iffa’s attempt at driving Katsumi, Isaoko and I away. “A cow-herd had a large herd of cows. He knew he had 196 cows. He counted them when he let them out to graze in the morning, and counted 196. He counted them that evening, and counted 196. But when he rounded them up, he had 200.”

To which I responded, “And thus began the doom of the abacus.”

I must reiterate that the party, although enjoyable, would have been far more so had you been there. I chose to leave my sword at home. I see no reason to advertise the skills you taught me, after all. When you do finally join me, I will be able to put it up for good, thank the Fortunes.

Make certain I get news of your gempukku in time to return for it. I will be there, gift in hand, come Hell or high water. Fortunes favour us that neither is the case, though.

Thinking of you,

Isawa Fouen