Chapter 25

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(A/N: Just a reminder, again, I know little to nothing about how Higashi's society and cities and government work and look like, this entire mess of a fanfiction I've been writing is an alternate reality and going to this isolationist nation is the best I can think off when I thought of "the other route" of the war. Though I will always try to make things realistic, I can't say it will be the best. Okay then..)

At the heart of the city, a large palace towers over the small houses and establishments surrounding it. A palace that is a fusion of the old and the new era.

From the balconies around the upper part of the palace, one can easily see the peace and order that runs the society that is as timeless as the palace itself.

Some streets are filled with people, some have less people walking and meddling about.

The residents are going about their daily lives happily. Or at least, for most of the time, they are living a happy life. Men and women wearing simple traditional clothing trading their goods with each other. Some are hauling wooden carts through the streets. All of them are greeting and bowing at each other especially to those who they personally knew.

This is the everyday situation on the streets around the enormous palace, and the daimyo sees it all from the balcony of his reception room as he discusses the ongoing battle to the north of his palace, with Amiya.

Puffs of smoke rises into the air from the mouth of the old oni as he takes the smoking pipe away from his mouth.

He calmly watches the people outside the palace for a short while.

Turning back to face the cautus, the shogun walks back to the zabuton on the other end of the table. He gets down on his knees gently but not too slow, and places himself comfortably on top of the cushion. (A/N: Zabutons apparently are what those japanese sitting cushions are called, you know, basically a flatter pillow placed on the floor, sometimes it's not even close in appearance to a pillow... yeah, my mad describing skills.)

"I beg your pardon, miss Amiya."

"You don't need to apologize, mister...."

"My name is not important in our discussion."

Amiya remains quiet as she waits for the old man to finish his business with the smoking pipe. The pipe on the man's hand seems to be calling it a day as the embers died out.

"You arrived twenty minutes ago. And we talked like how even the closest of friends would, it was so natural, and you don't even need to know my name in order for us to talk freely and with confidence." He tells her while being busy with his pipe.

After a second attempt at lighting up the contents inside the pipe, the daimyo also gives up for the time being. Setting small things aside, he looks at the girl on the other end of the table once again.

He inhales deeply and gently breathes it out.

"This Reunion, I've heard about them already, I know enough information about them. Taking all that you have told me just now and the information I have, we have done enough, the infiltration has already been contained."

"You don't want to be so comfortable just because you might view them as not even close to match your local police force."

"I have all the reasons to be comfortable, miss Amiya."

Ever since she arrived, Amiya has only seen the daimyo as a calm and composed man, despite a part of his city falling under a violent organization of outsiders.

"What do you mean by having all reason?", she asked.

Their eyes gazed at each other with the intent.

"I can trust you to not take a peak into what is in my mind, am I correct?"

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