Edogawa sat alone and waited. It was a small meeting room, meant for delicate negotiations. Normally, it might have a few personal touches and some refreshments meant to help guests feel comfortable. The room had not been prepared for that and felt stark and cold.

It was appropriate. No one had been prepared for what he had said.

His mother entered quietly, rustle of layers more audible than footsteps or breath. She closed the screen, meticulously so, then moved to her due place, lowering her garment with a grace a woman earns after years of court life in junihitoe. She didn't change after the party.

She was not looking at him, but at the austere sketch on the screen beside him, at least for now. The glaze in her eyes was not that of anger or indignation. It was of heartbreaking sorrow and disappointment she slowly sucked in as one pulls tears back. Hers never came, and when she looked at him, her face was a mask of her usual reproof and cold detachment.

If he expected her to be the first to speak, he would be disappointment. For now, she was a statue.

He bowed deeply, holding it as he spoke.

"I cannot properly express the depths of my regret. It has never been my wish to bring shame or danger upon our family, even when I was at my worst and most rebellious. Please, do everything necessary to preserve the honor and station of yourself and my sister."

After a long pause, at some point given staccato rhythm with fingertips on the table, her mannerism he might have witnessed only once or twice before, she spoke.

"Is that all you have to tell me? That you're an irresponsible boy at a loss of words?"

He rose, but kept his eyes lowered.

"To explain myself further would make matters worse. It is best to distance yourself. Disown me. Cast me out. Marry me away. Do whatever will serve the family best."

"Remain. You won't leave this room until we're done here." She replied sharply. "You are a fool to think this is a decision I can freely make."

"I realize that." he nodded. "I simply believe you must do everything you can to distance yourself. I do not know what I can do, other than face whatever consequences await me, no matter what cost I'll pay."

"Quit this penchant for drama. This is not how you've been taught, to wallow in self-pity. You will do what needs to be done to protect what matters, that had been clear enough even before you chose to enlighten me. Whether you've served your purpose to the Prince and can be done away with or not is not a call I can make. I serve at the pleasure of the Throne. Everything else is secondary. I had thought you had come to understand it finally, but they were dispelled tonight. Unless I excuse you on the grounds of your amnesias." She took a breath, a memory squeezing her throat. "But I am done excusing you. It is the mistake I will never forgive myself, glossing over your mishaps and liberties. It has rendered you supremely irresponsible. Until it has come to this that you've put us all at stake."

"This isn't pity." he shook his head. "I have kept secrets for a year that I should never had known and intended to carry all of them to my grave. I failed. I will face the consequences for that. But, I will not let those I love face them with me. Clearly, I will do whatever the Prince demands of me, whatever the Emperor demands of me. But, this isn't a simple gaffe. This isn't a drunken fantasy. Very many very bad things could come from this."

"You don't have much control over this any more. You failed, and you cannot will the world to let you own up the consequences." She looked at him straight. "I know you enough to know it is real. And now it is out. I have to prepare, so you'll tell me everything."

"Mother...." he met her eyes. His were filled with worry and concern. But, as usual, she was right.

/Fade Out

/Fade Back

As he had been relayed everything, she had remained silent, though a tight grip on the table seemed to be the only anchor holding her back from ageing rapidly before his eyes until her hair would turn white and her body enfeebled. After he was done speaking, there was silence for a long while when she was shoring her world back up after it had crumbled into tiny pieces.

"...Hokusai. I always wondered. So that was that."

She studied his features for a moment with absent gaze.

"I should be relieved. Your eyes are not my karmic fault."

He almost laughed. "No. They are something else entirely. You have me resolve and determination. I am grateful."

The weight on his shoulders had lightened. There was still worry, but the pressure had lessened.

"Now, we need to prepare."

She did not connect with his upswing of mood. "In the end, it changes little. The Heavens have accepted this, this is all that matters." She reassured herself, preventing her own world from imploding. But then, her steely gaze pierced him. "This gives your life another purpose. You have to find her and ensure that she is gone for good."

"I know." He agreed. "No one can find her or learn her story. I have been discretely looking over the past year. I do not believe she is anywhere near the Empire. I will only be able to find her out there, closer to Merenae."

"I don't think you fully understand, Edogawa." She added with cold insistence. "Nothing can be left to chance. We cannot care about pedigree or tradition any longer. All that there is to secure is the unbroken rule. In that, as little as possible has to be left to chance."

"Speak plainly, mother. If I must eliminate her and all trace of her, I will." he responded. "But, the story is still out there, as are other records. The Tortoise specifically will have logs and reports that could lead to issues on their own."

She nodded in confirmation.

"Then you'll root them out there as we'll root them out here. I am ready to acknowledge the Throne has vital interests outside our borders. But it means those interests have to be taken care of."

"It will be done." he agreed. "At all cost. I will find the girl and her allies. I will find any scrap of information about her and her lineage that exists. I will eliminate everything that threatens the Throne."

"Then I'll tell Jama-no-kimi as much when I see him tomorrow. It may help your cause for him to associate your ravings with zeal to protect the Throne."

She paused, the briefest moment of hesitation crossing her face, evidenced by nothing more than a twitch of her lower lip.

"When you are out there, my son, consider one thing. Whether it will be better for you to return, or to stay there. Too many stains linger on your name, mishaps and blunders. You don't have an idea what I went through when your face was first seen upon birth. Your father's doubts have never been truly dispelled, and your existence has estranged me and him for life. It gives me no relief that my better had committed what I was accused of. There is only so far I can shield you without great cost to our family, and you've expended that extent today. Our line will fade, such is apparently our fate, ever since Tohojatsu's betrayal. Suihime and her children will be our last significant contribution. Perhaps there is still some greatness for you, a legacy. But I doubt it is in Rokugan."

A single tear rolled down her cheek.