Ayeka

Ayeka

Jurai, the empire with the largest territory in the universe, was a paradise of plants, covered in giant trees some thousand meters tall. Among them was an enormously large tree with a height of over five thousand meters. Its intricately layered branches were a habitat for countless species of plants and trees, and the foundation for urban structures. This aggregate was called Tenju, the Heaven’s Tree.

Tenju was the capital of the planet of Jurai, the home of the Imperial Family, and its political and economic center. Of course, it had not grown naturally. It was carefully grown and cultivated over hundreds of thousands of years by the Royal Tree (Tsunami) and the Juraians. (Those with sharp tongues called it “the giant bonsai.”)

From a corner of Tenju, the voice of a darling little girl could be heard.

This was the corner owned by House Masaki, one of the four Houses that formed the Jurai Imperial Family, with Azusa, the current Emperor, as its head.

“Oniisama! Yosho-oniisama!!” A girl energetically leapt through the window of the room of Azusa’s son, Masaki Yosho Jurai. She could have been mistaken for a young Sasami, with the light blue-green, spiky hair that was just like her mother’s. There were leaves stuck all over her and her clothes.

“Found you!” She pounced with a huge smile at Yosho, who was reading in his study.

“Ayeka, I told you not to come in through the window. Father will yell at you again if he finds out.” Yosho spoke harshly, but a wry smile was on his lips, rendering his scolding useless.

Ayeka, in fact, was still smiling. “But Mother Misaki does it, too.” “Good grief…” Yosho sighed, looking at Ayeka’s carefree smile. Yes, Jurai’s Second Empress, and Ayeka’s mother, Misaki, used the exterior of Tenju like her personal highway. Misaki had been doing this since her childhood and hadn’t changed even after she became a mother herself. It could have been considered incomparable innocence, but for Yosho, it was exceedingly annoying. Because…

“Yosho-chan! Good morning!!” Every morning at a certain time, Misaki climbed the outside of Tenju and showed up at Yosho’s bedroom window, with her oblivious, gold-star, chirrupy voice. Yosho was twelve already, and it was humiliating to have an older woman call him “Yosho- chan” to wake him up, not to mention see him sleeping. It was for the simple reason that when it came to a man’s physiology, Yosho was no exception.

However…

“Good morning, Misaki-sama. You seem well today.” Yosho would smile sweetly to greet Misaki, desperately trying to keep his twitching face under control. Otherwise, Misaki would grow morose, sticking her ice-cold hands into his bed to tickle him and rip his comforter off. Anything but that…

Yosho discreetly pressed his front, waiting for this tornado to pass. A tornado would be better… It would never be as often as every morning, he thought.

“Oniisama. Say, Oniisama. Yosho-oniisama!!”

“What?!” Ayeka’s voice brought Yosho back to the present. “I’m sorry, Ayeka. What is it?”

“So, I was listening to Mother and Mother Funaho talking.” “You climbed all the way up there again?” His shock was understandable. The Imperial Palace where Misaki and Funaho lived was almost at the top of Tenju…several hundred meters above Yosho’s room. There was a safety net system in place, but the risk was not negligible. “What if you fell? And you shouldn’t eavesdrop.”

“Yeah, but—”

Yosho pressed his finger to Ayeka’s protesting lips and said, “Nobody wants you to get hurt. Utsutsumi-sama, Seto-sama, Father, Mother, and Misaki-sama would be very sad.”

“You, too…?” Ayeka asked, with upturned eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Okay, I won’t do it anymore.” Cheeks flushed, Ayeka spoke with a tiny voice.

“Good girl.”

“Um, so…” Ayeka looked up again, eager to tell him something. “What is it?”

“Um, they said I’m going to marry you one day. That’s what Mother and Mother Funaho were saying.”

“What?!” Yosho opened his eyes wide. He had thought about the possibility, but he was surprised at his own reaction now that it was reality. “Is that true?”

“Y-yeah…”

Two weeks later, Yosho and Ayeka’s engagement was put on the agenda at the Supreme Council. Yosho was twelve. Ayeka was still four years old.

Masaki Yosho Jurai was born under difficult circumstances. His biological mother, Funaho, came from a planet outside of Jurai (a colonial frontier, even) and yet here she was as First Empress. His father was the Emperor of Jurai, complicating things further. After Funaho claimed the Second Generation Royal Tree Mizuho (Misaki’s Tree’s name was Karin— the word for cirrocumulus clouds on Jurai—and this Tree was the twin of Mizuho) there was some temporary peace. Although half of the Jurai Imperial Palace felt favorable towards Funaho, the other half was neutral or critical. As far as popularity rates went, things weren’t too bad. Hers were among the highest in the history of past Empresses. The problem was that the ones who were critical or neutral were relatively higher in status. Even if she had half of the total support, it did not translate to a balance of power. The division of support fell along House lines. House Amaki, Shuzan’s clan, was critical. The people who refrained did so out of respect for Utsutsumi from House Kamiki. House Tatsuki remained neutral.

After the First Prince Yosho was born, the criticism abated, but growing up among this silent pressure made him conscious beyond necessity of improving his mother Funaho’s standing. Ever since he was little, he worried about Funaho, and whenever he found time, he tried to stay by her side. He believed that it was to protect her physically and psychologically in the place of his father, who was busy with his royal duties. When he named his Tree at the Tree Selection Ceremony after his mother, that was certainly one of the factors.

Yosho underwent the Tree Selection Ceremony when he was eight and had been summoned by the trees, just like Funaho and Misaki. Where he met Funaho the Tree was, strangely enough, the same place where Kirito had been growing when the current Emperor of Jurai, Azusa, formed his contract several decades ago.

Funaho was young and quite small among the stout First Generation Trees. Although she was only as tall as a Second Generation Tree, the energy within her was formidable, and enough to surpass other First Generation Trees.

To have a First Generation Tree was to have absolute power. Nobody on Jurai could defy someone with a First Generation Tree. This was because the Trees’ power weakened further down the generations. But in the past several thousand years, now that it was rare for an Imperial Family ship to be engaged in combat, awareness of the generational difference in absolute power had faded. Political power, instead of the power of numbers, was trying to take over, and Amaki Shuzan was at the center of this. That was the world in which Yosho lived.

“Hello, Yosho-dono.” Seto, the wife of Utsutsumi and head of family of House Kamiki, respectfully bowed to Yosho, walking down the hallway of Tenju. She was Misaki’s biological mother.

“Seto-sama. Hello.” Yosho bowed as well, with an expression of relief.

Seto was one of Funaho’s few allies and someone Yosho and Funaho could depend on. Even the Emperor of Jurai, the most powerful person on the planet, was indebted to her. Now that the previous Emperor had passed, there was nobody on the planet who could speak their mind to her face. Her husband, Utsutsumi, and Emperor Azusa could not express any personal, self-centered opinions (anything that gave them a guilty conscience)…out of fear.

To any malcontent with an ulterior motive, Seto was a terrifying monster. Seto told it like it was, which made her seem boorish, but she was frightfully meticulous and sensitive. For someone of Seto’s status, the profound bow she gave Yosho could have been a less formal one, even for a Crown Prince. But she gave him her utmost respect because she knew that others would have to follow her example.

“Is Funaho-sama in?” Seto asked.

“Yes, she’s waiting with Misaki-sama in her room.”

“Thank you.” They exchanged pleasantries, and Seto watched Yosho leave with a smile, then slowly proceeded to Funaho’s room.

“Seto-sama, thank you for coming!” Funaho welcomed her with delight. There were no stiff formalities between them as there were with Yosho. Seto treated Funaho just like her daughter, Misaki. This was, in a sense, by design. In a situation that was the reverse of the one with Yosho, this friendliness was a check on the anti-Funaho faction. She was using her own status to protect Funaho, but more than that, she was fond of Funaho’s honest and guileless personality. She had realized recently that Funaho was similar in presence to a Royal Tree. Misaki, difficult to handle when she was little, had grown more easygoing because of the sense of security she felt around Funaho.

“About Yosho-dono and Ayeka-chan—I arranged it so that it will be on the agenda for the Supreme Council tomorrow, to get official permission.”

“Thank you, Seto-sama.”

“My husband has settled down since Ayeka-chan was born, and I think this engagement will be plenty beneficial for Jurai, and… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know what our position requires. Yosho will understand. And I think Ayeka-chan will be a very good match for him, too.”

“I, too, will have peace of mind with Yosho-dono as her partner…” Seto said, but there was some hesitation in her words.

“Mother, Ayeka-chan is so happy that she’ll get to marry Yosho-chan. I love Yosho-chan, too. I’ve always wanted a little brother.” Misaki, left out until now, interrupted with a beaming smile. However, the slightest cloud flashing over Seto’s face at Misaki’s words did not escape Funaho’s notice. “And then… Oh! It’s still a secret.”

Funaho looked at the chuckling Misaki and said, “What secret, Misaki- chan?”

“Oh no, I made a promise with Ayeka-chan, Funaho-oneesama. But you’ll find out before their engagement is announced.” Misaki smiled, happy that she was able to join the conversation.

“Misaki…stop entering Yosho-dono’s room from the exterior.” It was abrupt but stated so casually anyone listening would have assumed it was no big deal.

“…!” Funaho realized what Seto had been trying to say. “What?! But…”

“I’m not criticizing your habit of taking walks outside. But Yosho- dono is twelve now and about to join the ranks of adults. It’ll be embarrassing for him if people find out he’s called ‘Yosho-chan’ and has to be woken by you every morning!”

“Urk…but…” Misaki looked up reproachfully. She was married and had a daughter herself, but this kind of thing showed she was still a child.

“But what?” Still with a smile, Seto put pressure on Misaki. “Urk…b-but…” Normally, Misaki would surrender at this point, but she was a little tenacious today. She slowly made her way towards Funaho to get her on her side (a high-level technique for Misaki), but such a childish tactic would never work on Seto, and they were quickly split apart.

“It’s about time you start treating Yosho-dono as an adult.”

“All right…” With a frown pursing her lips and large tears spilling over her cheeks, Misaki left the room without a word. By now she was probably yelling insults at her mother, crying, while she climbed up and down Tenju. Today’s incident would probably be forgotten after two trips up and down all five thousand meters of Tenju, and she would be back by dinner. Seto saw her off and looked at Funaho with a slight sigh.

“I hadn’t realized…” Funaho murmured, her head bowed. It made sense. Yosho was not as fierce as Azusa, but they were very similar. And Misaki took after Seto. It was only natural that Misaki would grow fond of Yosho.

“I’m sorry,” Seto said with downcast eyes “My husband and now Misaki, we keep being a nuisance to House Masaki.”

“Oh, please don’t worry about it. And it’s no nuisance… we’re family, after all.”

This was what Seto loved about Funaho. She’s so cute… She felt tears welling up in her eyes and hastily added, “Yosho-dono himself hasn’t noticed yet. If Misaki doesn’t do anything further to draw attention to it…” Seto thought back to the time she met Azusa. His passionate and straightforward gaze. “Yosho-dono is much more mature than Azusa-chan was at that age,” she said, almost to herself.

Funaho chuckled, “From your perspective, he’s forever ‘Azusa-chan,’ isn’t he?”

“What…?!” Seto’s cheeks flushed pink, which was unusual for her. “Good grief, I suppose I’m not one to talk about Misaki.” She smiled shyly. When Seto talked about how Azusa was in the past, she became slightly vulnerable. She would normally never let herself blush at someone’s words and carelessly reveal her emotions. Of course, only Funaho, who spent time with her in her private life, could notice these minute reactions.

“Azusa-sama and Yosho have similar temperaments.” Funaho wondered if she should ask what she’d known for a while.

Seto smiled mischievously, to answer Funaho. “I sometimes wonder… if Azusa-chan had been born earlier. Next to him would be me…and Mitsuki- dono,” she mumbled sadly but wistfully.

Funaho felt no jealousy. She only felt that she would have wanted to see it. “I would imagine that that would make him invincible,” she chuckled.

“Yes, but Funaho-dono,” Seto slowly cupped Funaho’s cheeks with both hands and leaned closer. “You’re not as insignificant as you believe. For Azusa-chan…Misaki, and me, you have no idea how much peace you bring just by being here…”

“You, too, Seto-sama? I’m not…”

“I think the way things are now is the way it should be. I have a premonition. Something is going to change, even the fate of Jurai. Your new blood will change something. That’s how I feel. And…”

“And?”

“I can’t quit being the sarcastic older woman,” Seto cackled, blowing away her earlier bashfulness.

“Poor Azusa-sama…”

At that, Seto laughed even louder. Then she winked and said, “Don’t tell my husband.”

The next morning, the sunlight shone onto Yosho’s cheek as he lay in bed, and he sighed. It’s almost time… Oh, here she is. There was the sound of Misaki coming down the outer wall. Usually, she would fling open the window and come flying into his room, but just before that happened, the rustling of the leaves stopped. Yosho looked quizzically towards the window. He could not see Misaki but heard a hesitant voice.

“Yosho-cha… I mean, Yosho-dono. Are you awake?” “Yes. Good morning, Misaki-sama.”

“I can’t wake you up from now on. I’m sorry.”

“I can wake up by myself now. Please don’t worry about it.” “Yes, you’re grown up now… See you later, Yosho-dono.” The rustling sound grew further and further away. Misaki would never have come to this conclusion on her own. And she used the -dono suffix instead of - chan. Yosho understood that Seto must have said something to her.

He let out a small sigh as he heard the distant rustling. He did not notice that it was not a sigh of relief. He did not realize his own feelings. At twelve years old, he was growing up, but also still a child.

What allowed him to realize it was what happened that night. The doorbell rang.

“Who is it?”

Ayeka’s tentative voice was heard from the other side. “Oniisama…” “Ayeka? You never come through the front entrance. Come in.”

Normally, Ayeka would enter with a big smile. But noticing that she was not coming in, Yosho closed the book he was reading and stood up. “What’s the matter? You’re so quiet today… Hm?!” He opened the door, saw Ayeka standing there, and caught his breath.

It was indeed Ayeka, but her hair was a dark purple, and the spiky hair was beautifully coiffed. “Ayeka… Your hair…” The only pictures Yosho had seen of Funaho were when she was past age fourteen. But he was sure that, when she was young, she must have looked like Ayeka did now. That thought made him realize that Ayeka, wanting to become Yosho’s ideal woman, had edited her genes to match her father, who had similar hair to Funaho. It’s true I thought of my mother as the ideal woman. But…

“Yosho-oniisama. Does my hair…look weird?” Ayeka asked nervously, but with childlike, determined eyes.

“What did Misaki-sama say…?”

“She said I looked cute. She held me tight and wouldn’t let go for an hour.”

“I see. It looks good on you, Ayeka…” Belying his words, he felt a stabbing pain in his heart. He finally realized that it had started when Ayeka spoke of the engagement, though he still did not understand why. Yosho did not dislike Ayeka. He was keenly aware of his mother’s position. But what brother would resent a little sister with such sincere feelings towards him?

However, the pain continued. It throbbed intensely inside him. He was desperate that it not be noticed, so he laughed, and said, “It looks really good on you.”

“Thank you, Oniisama. I’ll go show everyone!” “Okay…”

She nodded, satisfied and happy that her favorite brother complimented her, and ran down the hallway. Her retreating figure, innocently skipping down the hall, overlapped with an image of Misaki, as parent and child might.

Yosho’s expression clouded. He recognized what the feelings within him were.

The next morning, he woke up at the usual time, and heard the rustling of leaves from Misaki climbing down from afar. He imagined her face smiling with glee as she thought about surprising him in his sleep. Yosho’s heart beat faster. The rustling stopped near his room. Misaki would normally shout, laughing, “Yosho-chan, good morning!!” The tension Yosho felt inside peaked. Yes, that was how it usually went… However…

“Good morning, Yosho-dono…” Misaki spoke through the wall, hidden from view. It was not her usual cheerful tone. She sounded in a little bit of a funk, like the day before.

“Good morning, Misaki-sama,” Yosho answered with as much calm as he could muster so Misaki would not notice. He sat up and held himself back from rushing to the window.

Without another word, Misaki started moving again. Yosho felt a sting in his eyes. The tears that eventually fell from the corners of his eyes stained his pillow a slightly darker color. He mumbled, his lips trembling. “Misaki… sama…” He remained still on his bed until he could no longer hear the rustling. That was his new morning routine.

A few days later, Seto came to visit Yosho’s room. Seto hardly ever came to see him in his room. “Seto-sama, I would have gone to see you if there were a matter to attend to.”

“Funaho-dono gifted some fruit to me. I couldn’t wait until I got home to eat them, so I thought about having tea here. I wanted to talk to you, too.” Having given this spiel, Seto entered without waiting for Yosho’s reply.

She’s as aggressive as always when it comes to tea… Yosho, with a wry smile, invited Seto in.

The fruit Seto brought were persimmons. Funaho had given Azusa some as souvenirs as he was about to leave Earth; they had kept the seeds and planted them here. Seto took a sip of the tea Yosho served and began to talk.

“What?! Me, the Galaxy Academy?”

“Yes. You know how we send about ten students every year in a goodwill exchange program.”

“Yes. So I should go next year?” “No, this year.”

“But I thought they already left, last month.”

“There’s no hard and fast rule. I’m not saying you have to; it’s a voluntary program…” Seto turned with a meaningful look.

Why is she bringing this up all of a sudden…? Yosho was confused, not knowing Seto’s true intent. Many Galaxy Academy graduates took important posts in countries throughout the galaxy. Yosho knew it was a good opportunity for him to expand his future network of contacts. Seto probably thought it was faster for Yosho to strengthen his own foundations abroad, to become accepted as Crown Prince on Jurai, than staying with the Emperor, who still stood on shaky political ground. But going to study abroad the very next month seemed rather hasty. And this was after this year’s students had already been sent.

Yosho cast his eyes downward and mulled things over in his mind; without discerning an acceptable answer, he once again turned to Seto. Seto looked displeased, but it was not about Yosho. It was something else.

Oh…! Seto was looking not at Yosho but the last piece of persimmon.

Yosho had not eaten even a single piece yet. That meant Seto had eaten all the fruit she had brought herself. She could not bring herself to take the last piece, but she could not bear to have that last piece taken from her. That was why she was in a bad mood.

She’s definitely Misaki-sama’s mother…! Suddenly, he realized why she suggested studying abroad. Seto was giving him the chance to put some distance between himself and Misaki. Yosho was grateful to her and offered her the last persimmon.

“Seto-sama…I’ll take the study abroad. Thank you for considering me.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Please.” He watched Seto happily eat the fruit and felt freedom and loss at the same time. What did the persimmon taste like? Yosho mulled over these things in his mind.

Once Yosho decided to study at Galaxy Academy, he had his days full since the time until departure was so soon. The Supreme Council decided that Yosho and Ayeka’s engagement would take place in two years, after the period of study was over. They also decided that it was too early to make an announcement and only announced his plans of study to other countries.

“O-Oniisama. I’ll always be waiting for you.” Until Yoshi’s departure, Ayeka visited his room often, repeated these words like an incantation, and burst into tears. Yosho was at a loss when Misaki, who had also anxiously come to see how things were going, also burst into tears. He promised them he would come home twice a year.

“Good luck with your studies,” Funaho said on the night before departure. She also meant, “Find closure for your feelings toward Misaki.”

“I set out tomorrow,” Yosho mumbled to himself as he crawled into bed. The next day would be the end of his morning routine. He looked forward to hearing the rustling of leaves and quietly closed his eyes.