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Those who lived in the White Heron Castle were feeling quite indifferent the next morning, almost morose. They conducted their duties and tasks with an air that it was to be their last day on earth and that there was little they could do to stop the inevitable. Lord Noriyuki was himself taken in by that melancholy. Moreover he did nothing to remedy the situation either. He would face the end with a calm composure, for he could not muster any other emotional response than that. He spied a nearby cherry tree still in bloom, the wondrous blossoms filled the air around him and the sight brought him a measure of solace. But no peace. That was not forthcoming he was certain. And it would take more than a tree in bloom to reach such a state. He turned over and over in his mind what it would take to deliver such a condition to his people. Answers were few and far between and that too was of no surprise. He stood in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by the high walls his ancestors had built generations earlier, but for the first time he felt no connection to them. Usually he felt the spirits that dwelled in those bricks and they in turn filled his soul. That morning, however, he no longer felt their presence. Their counsel was lost. He was on his own. So be it.
Tomoe took her time dressing, which perplexed her servants and made them fret that she'd be late for the Hikiji procession. She didn't care a wit for their distress. Everything began to chafe. Her clothes felt like rough sand against her skin. Her swords were made of lead and make-up became like mud. And the sound of the human voice was more grating than she thought possible, laughter felt like pins being wedge under her fingernails, loud words like the shriek of foxes in the night. Foxes. Her mind turned back to the previous night. What made her think of foxes? Her odd countenance made her servants step back from their labours and wait until their mistress had come to the end of her wool gathering. In the meantime they looked at one another with expressions of concern and confusion.
"Foxes."
She was thinking out loud and then realised others were in the room with her. Tomoe turned sharply, which made her servants bow quickly and submissively. They didn't hear a thing. But of course they did. Enough. She was a dressed as well as her mind could endure, so Tomoe adjusted her swords in her belt, and departed, with her startled servants struggling to keep pace behind her.
The world parted ways for the lady. More to avoid being knocked over as she walked than of deference to her high status. Her heart was racing. Her skin was already beginning to sweat and soaked the first layer of her clothing. By the end of the day she was certain that her clothes would become saturated and weigh her down as if she had fallen into a river. A voice rose above the others around her, but she couldn't make out what was spoken so she kept walking. The voice came again only louder and Tomoe understood what was said, and recognised who had said it. She kept walking anyway.
"Lady Tomoe!" The tone was hostile at being ignored.
