Though cooking had not been the Asako sisters' great skills, one could not question their ability to make onigiri. They were making some today, feeling guilty that the newly returned Agasha Gensou had taken over their kitchen duties. Gensou refused to let them cook, hinting it would be for the best for all those concerned if he cooked. The two sisters groused, but they were secretly relieved they didn't have to cook since their grandfather criticized their meals.

Gensou was sitting by the irori pit waiting for the water to boil. He watched autumn leaves fall through the opened shutters. Asako Eitoku, Reihaido Asagao's priest, was reading a text on fetishes Gensou had brought. It was very quiet, and even the two sisters' favored pet dog wasn't causing a ruckus.

He heard footsteps and turned his head to its sound. The young shugenja Asako Seijaku approached in her kimono patterned with russet leaves, a mirror of the season. She was trying hard not to drop the tray she was holding. Her older sister Akira was beside her, similarly laden though not similarly attired, in a white kimono and brown hakama.

"Here is something for tea," Seijaku said, laying the tray full of onigiri and dumplings beside him. He smiled his thanks and saw that Akira had done the same thing for their grandfather.

"Will you share them with me, Seijaku-san, while we wait for the tea?"

"Ensuring we didn't poison them, Gen-gen?" Seijaku asked, kneeling beside him slowly. He let the childhood nickname pass, handing a plate so she could get one first.

"I know you adore onigiri and dumplings, so I thought you should have some."

"Thank you, Gen-gen."

"Stop calling him 'Gen-gen', Sei-chan. He's outgrown the nickname," Akira said, joining them around the pit. She sat down with more ease than her younger sister, being in a hakama, and glanced at Seijaku checking the water in the iron pot. "Considering that you act like a Crane now, I thought you'd have dropped some of your habits."

"Neechan!" she said at the same time Gensou said, "Akira-san!" Akira smiled and picked one of the rice balls. Seijaku, satisfied with the hot water, poured it in the teapot and waited for the tea to steep.

"Gen—" At her sister's warning glance she started again. "Gensou-san, why do you stay with us here in Reihaido Asagao when your skills would be more suited in the army which Aikune-sama leads?"

Gensou shrugged. "I thought it best to stay here where it is peaceful. A position in the army means war and violence, and I have seen enough of that."

"What Gensou had said is true enough." Akira smiled grimly. "As a magistrate I get enough trouble, and we are only to help those in need within Phoenix lands. There's been trouble to keep all of us occupied, and you should consider yourself lucky Reihaido Asagao remains to high up in the Phoenix mountains no one would think of launching an assault here."

Seijaku looked at the black branches standing in stark contrast of the cerulean sky. "But it does get too quiet here."

Gensou thought for a moment, staring at her profile. "It doesn't matter how quiet it is. It's simply very nice to be away from war."

She glanced at him. "Gen-gen, is it your promise that keeps you here?"

"My promise?"

"Yes, your promise." Gensou smiled fondly at the young Phoenix shugenja and refused to answer. Seijaku poured the tea into little cups, and she handed him one.

"We were but eight then, Gensou-san," Akira interjected. "A promise made at the time when the Steel Chrysanthemum held us hostage applied only then, while we were in danger. Sei-chan is in no danger here."

"But your sister here was then merely five, and understood the solemnity of such a promise, right, Seijaku-san?"

"I wouldn't dream to hold you to it when you can serve the clan in a better manner, Gen-gen!" she affirmed.

Akira pinched Seijaku's cheeks and pulled her face to distort it, a thing sure to annoy her sister. "Stop calling him Gen-gen! You must call him by his proper name now that you have both passed your respective gempukku."

"It hurts..." She rubbed her cheeks after Akira released them. "But he had never asked me to not call him Gen-gen, so I never stopped. Also, we rarely have visitors, and those who have visited have always heard me call him Gen-gen, so I do not see the point."

"You called me Gen-gen when you were five, because you thought my childhood name 'Genjiroshima' was too long." Gensou smiled at the memory. "We were held by the Hantei, and we knew not why we were being kept away from our parents."

"And Sei-chan was a crybaby, afraid of ghosts and the spirits that stood guard over us."

"I was not!" Seijaku vehemently denied it, though the other two laughed. Even their grandfather had a faint smile on his lips, though he was pretending not to listen.

"But you were, Seijaku-san," Gensou corrected. "You had driven Akira-san mad figuring out how to distract you, when she saw me drawing dragons on the sand."

"And if there was anything that could distract Sei-chan, it would be drawings. She tried to draw a Phoenix, but she couldn't, so she was about to bawl when I made her one."

"True enough, Akira-san," Gensou said. "Seijaku-san has improved her skills in drawing since then, but at five she could hardly contend with a very packed stretch of soil using a split bamboo. The spirits, though, did not take kindly to our drawings, thinking we were planning to escape. They had those erased, and then THEY had to try quiet Seijaku down, much to their chagrin."

"And what a sight that was," Akira sighed. "I did not think they would so much as resort to giving sweets, but they did. I can't seem to recall what made Sei-chan cry harder though."

"One of them offered me a ride on his back, that's what!" Seijaku shuddered. "I was sure they thought me mad."

"We all were a little mad at that time." Gensou sobered. "But before I forget—have you figured out what was the plant I brought you?"

"Grandfather can tell you what is it."

Asako Eitoku glanced up. "Am I now part of the conversation?" He stood up and joined them by the irori. "Seijaku told me the children found this seed? Where is it?"

"On my way to Reihaido Asagao I stopped by the village at the foot of the mountain. Near the headman's hut this was growing. The children were collecting these seeds, planning to glue them on as decoration." He took out a scrap of cloth and showed the black seeds. They came with a wilted branch and pod he took from the weed. The pale green leaves were notched and the stems ending into little tendrils or the sac-like pod. Eitoku glanced over the offerings and then looked at Seijaku. "And what is it, Seijaku?"

"It is harmless, grandfather. It smells pungent." She wrinkled her nose. "I have no idea what it is."

"What a strange seed," Akira said. "It has a white mark shaped like a heart."

"Apparently that's where the seed is connected to the pod. There are three seeds to each pod. Eitoku-sama, do you know what it is?"

"I do. And the children would love to hear that there's a story to this plant." He picked up the seed. "That's the trouble with you young ones, never going to the libraries...there are many scrolls that speak of obscure events in the history of this area."

"Yes, grandfather." Akira tried hard not to smirk. Seijaku liked the archives, spending almost all her time there. "Please tell me the story of this plant."

"Maho-tsukai are evil, but they begin somewhere. Evil does not spring out fully formed except in the Shadowlands or if you were fool enough to summon an Oni. There was once a shugenja here in this very shrine that loved another shugenja, but she was obsessed with the Scorpion art of warding, and devoted her time to it. She continually refused his suit."

"And we hope someone here doesn't end in the same boat," Akira said in an undertone to the person beside her. Gensou grimaced.

"Frustrated love, bad spells, and cups of shochu embittered him. He dabbled in forbidden magic, getting holds of scrolls dating from the time before the founding of the clan. He was not good at it in the beginning; he was better at herbalism than at summoning anything. So his first creation—his first failure, he thought—was a small weed, capable of growing fast and choking life out of other plants. He decided to give up using plants for his devious deeds then, they just didn't have the same vitality as animals. But old habits are hard to stop, and he still watered it and put it to the sun."

He took a sip of his tea, and went on. "He created fouler creatures, and one trampled through his plant bed. He threw the plants away, forgetting how he had bred them. They grew unattended, and soon overran the fields of the ashigaru. The black seeds floated in water, going farther and farther down rivers, growing everywhere, on the riverbanks, on the fields. Soon rice was not growing, and people went hungry. They tried everything; salted the earth, burned the fields, even considered setting locusts free over them. None worked."

Gensou was looking properly shocked. Seijaku had an eyebrow raised but she just went on serving tea as Akira listened attentively. "This maho-tsukai was aware he had reduced everyone to suffering. He just went on his way, summoning creatures of the Shadowlands. These were easily cut down, and decimated, but not the weed. The Phoenix clan was angry at such wanton destruction, and sent a shugenja to deal with the trouble. The same shugenja who rejected the maho-tsukai came forward and asked for this duty."

"She studied the plant, trying to figure out how it worked. When she realized who had planted it she was hurt he had taken that path. She loved him, in her own way. To this day no one knows how she faced the man behind the weed, but when she climbed the mountains she never returned, and all that was left was the weed, curling around travel paths, holding the soil together. Even the creatures were gone. Since then it bore the mark of her pure white heart." He heaved a deep breath. "That's one of the reasons why shochu is forbidden in Reihaido Asagao. Much the pity. Celebrations are different without alcohol."

"Only Grandfather would end a story regretting the loss of a vice," Akira said. Seijaku was frowning thoughtfully as she poured another cup of tea. Gensou wondered at it.

"Seijaku-san, don't you like the end of the story?"

"I would want to know what really happened, not leaving the story unresolved. Did she forgive him? Did she simply go up there to punish him and just vanished?"

"We'd never know, will we, granddaughter?" Eitoku smiled. "Now can I have some more onigiri?"

"Yes, grandfather."

"Do you see this bonsai, Seijaku? Who knows how old it is? My age is but a fraction of its lifespan. It could be that it was here to see that young herbalist grow bitter with unrequited love. It could have witnessed more wars, more pestilence, and more lovemaking than we could record. We could only wonder what it'll say if it could talk."

"But that is not what is bothering me, grandfather. The story you told about the maho-tsukai...grandfather, you know I enjoy the libraries very much, but I see no record of such a weed ruining crops in the records. Maybe it could be found in something in your private collection?"

"Is that why the rest of the meal you were very quiet?" At her nod he grinned. "So you were paying attention. Well, you are right in that point. There was a maho-tsukai who wrecked havoc with his blood magic, and a shugenja who spurned him did stop him."

"But then how did that plant grow out in the fields?"

"In the best way that is. Naturally."

Seijaku rolled her eyes as her grandfather continued to contemplate the bonsai.