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For Iufni for Ancestral Day!

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Osamu watched with great interest as the wolves of Tianlong bustled through Verdant's Grace, all of them seemingly concentrating their efforts around a singular space decorated in ornate florals and the heady scent of fresh meat and herbs.

The sights and smells were intoxicating; more than that, he found himself curious. This clearly wasn't attached to the wedding itself, but something... different. He'd caught a few scattered conversations here and there regarding something called Ancestral Day, although he'd found himself increasingly distracted by glimpses of Izumi through the ebb and flow of the crowds.

Gods. He remembered that night together - their first night - here, only several days ago - Osamu wrestled with himself, wracked by guilt and unable to bring himself to speak of the moment or even say anything to his Empress beyond idle pleasantries and observations. He hid behind them like a shield.

Osamu stood off to the side, stiff as a board and seemingly wholly absorbed in the preparations unfolding before him.

But his mind was somewhere else.

The morning light danced mesmerizingly through the surrounding trees, bathing the courtyard in a pleasant warm glow. He felt very nearly entranced as he continued to study the attendants; if he only unfocused just a little, their movements appeared almost rhythmic, weaving expertly between one another like a carefully choreographed rehearsal.

The vision was broken in an instant. Osamu flinched, lifting a paw to ready himself when he realized it was just a child - well, perhaps not quite a child upon second glance. An adolescent boy already growing into his long legs, legs which were now splayed out in front of him in a gesture of apology.

Osamu chuckled. It is well, he said, gesturing for the boy to stand. No harm was done.

His gaze flickered back toward the press of bodies scurrying ahead of them.

You are - with them, yes? he asked, his own strange accent coming through thickly in the common tongue. What is this event?

Oh.

Apologies. I am Osamu, Samurai of the Fujiwara Dynasty, the man quickly amended. We are here upon invitation to witness the Royal Wedding.

Whatever mad flurry of thoughts now paraded through Iufni's mind, Osamu remained blissfully unaware. He'd never been particularly adept at reading faces, and the boy might as well have been a locked fortress for all he could discern; even more ironically, perhaps it was the oncoming effects of age making his perception all the worse.

The bowing - the bowing was terrible, it made him feel terrible, but he would endure.

Ah, I meant - this particular event - I heard someone say it was Ancestral Day? he ventured, hoping he'd gotten that right. It looked separate from the rest of the wedding in some fashion, but perhaps he had been mistaken. Of the wedding, I congratulate the royal couple.

The boy's mention of war had him intrigued. What strife could create conflict within such an auspicious family? Surely it was not for want of food or drink; of that, they appeared to have plenty.

We are a Japanese clan led by the Empress Izumi Fujiwara, residing in the distant south and as far to the west as the setting sun, he said. We follow honor, prosperity, and peace; it is our belief that violence should only be utilized as a last resort. I personally ascribe to this, for history is full of enough bodies.

Many of them I have carved myself, he thought grimly.