Young Lord Aka

After listening to Miketsu, Mokou did not answer immediately, instead sweeping a playful glance over her.

“I get the feeling you’re plotting something…”

“Heh. Even if I were, what would you do about it?” Miketsu replied with a smile, her expression utterly relaxed in the face of Mokou’s suspicion.

“Not much. Since this is what you want, I’ll just pass the word along to the people back at the house. They’ll do as you ask,” Mokou said with a slight shrug. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn’t object even if Miketsu did have a scheme; after all, Miketsu was the only friend she had who truly knew her history. In a way, she was more trustworthy than those blood relatives in the Fujiwara family whom she had just met after two centuries.

Afterward, Miketsu and Mokou shared a casual drink before preparing to leave the Izakaya. However, as they descended to the second floor, Miketsu couldn’t help but pause in surprise.

Upon her arrival, Miketsu had sent word via a Paper Shikigami she’d left on Mokou to arrange the meeting spot, and she had arrived at the Izakaya first to wait. She remembered clearly that everything outside the building had looked perfectly normal then—just ordinary pedestrians making their way to the Gion Hanamachi. But as they stepped out after concluding their business, the scene outside had transformed completely.

Several ox-carriages were now parked along the roadside not far from the entrance. In front of these carriages stood many noblewomen dressed in luxurious unlined robes. Accompanied by servants and handmaidens, they stood in clusters, all gazing toward the Izakaya’s doorway with curious eyes. The moment Mokou’s figure appeared, their gazes turned fervent. They began to whisper excitedly among themselves and to their maids.

…

“It’s Lord Aka… Lord Aka is coming out!”

“Ah… I finally see him. Is that the rumored Lord Aka of the Fujiwara? He’s every bit as handsome as they say…”

“I wonder if Lord Aka likes Waka poetry…”

“Wait… why is there a little girl next to him? And an Onmyoji at that? Hurry up and move out of the way…”

…

Seeing the scene outside, Mokou couldn't help but smack her own forehead. Exhaling a helpless sigh under the affectionate gazes of the noblewomen, she hurriedly beckoned Miketsu into the ox-carriage to make a swift exit.

“Phew… don't choose a place like Gion for a meeting next time. There are too many nobles wandering around here for fun, especially those young ladies… Honestly, it’s a massive headache every time I run into them,” Mokou grumbled helplessly inside the carriage, while Miketsu watched her with an amused glint in her eyes.

“Lord Aka? Hehe… I thought you just preferred men's clothing. I didn't realize you were actually using a male identity in public,” Miketsu said slowly, her voice tinged with laughter.

“I only thought it would be more convenient that way, but who knew it would escalate like this… Tsk, I really don't understand those women. Whenever I'm in public, they swarm around me and chatter non-stop… And they're constantly finding excuses to send me those damn love-themed Waka. I can’t understand a single word of them,” Mokou said, scratching her head in frustration.

Mokou’s return to the Fujiwara Clan as an ancestor was a fact strictly limited to the inner circle of the family and the higher-ups of various Onmyo Clans. To avoid any negative impact on the household of the Kanpaku, Fujiwara no Tadahira had placed restrictions on the dissemination of the news. Mokou was more than happy with this arrangement; she didn't seem to want many people knowing she was someone from over two hundred years ago.

Consequently, the Fujiwara prepared an external identity for her. At her own request, this identity was established as male, the reasoning being that it was far easier for a noble male to dress and travel freely compared to a noblewoman. Thus, her identity in Heian-kyo was fixed as Fujiwara no Tadahira’s younger son who had returned from training in Onmyojutsu elsewhere: the noble Young Lord—Fujiwara Aka.

It had to be said that with Mokou's temperament, she looked quite the part in male attire. Although she was unkempt in private, she had received complete training in aristocratic etiquette and could handle critical occasions almost perfectly. As a result, news of a young, handsome, and extraordinarily gifted noble lord with powerful spells spread like wildfire among the nobility of Heian-kyo, drawing the intense attention of numerous young noblewomen.

At Mokou’s plight, Miketsu could only sit back and smile. Internally, she thanked the gods that she was in this era; women's fangirl behavior was much more reserved. If this were the modern day, they’d likely be chanting slogans, raising banners, and screaming at the top of their lungs, which would be far harder to endure.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to Miketsu. Mokou had pulled her into the ox-carriage in a frantic rush to escape the crowds, and many people had witnessed it. Given her current situation, she hoped this wouldn’t breed any unfavorable rumors later on… one could only hope.

In Heian-kyo, Upper Capital District, at the Minamoto Residence.

Inside a room filled with various weapons and armor, looking much like an armory, Minamoto no Mitsunaka sat formally. Seated opposite him was his son, the genius Minamoto Onmyoji who always seemed to wear a faint, trace-like smile: Minamoto no Yorimitsu.

“Yorimitsu… do you know why I’ve called you here today?” Minamoto no Mitsunaka spoke, his expression grave and stern as he looked at his young son.

“Father has come regarding the selection of the Chigo Miko… after all, I just sent the new batch of selected priestesses into the forbidden ground before you summoned me here,” Minamoto no Yorimitsu replied unhurriedly. His tone suggested he had long known what Mitsunaka was going to ask.

“Hmph, it seems you’re aware… I trust you remember that when I handed this selection process over to you, I solemnly entrusted you with the fact that the affairs of the forbidden ground and the priestesses are paramount to the Minamoto Clan’s existence. Entrusting the Chigo Miko selection to you for the first time was a test—a trial for the heir of the clan. The elders are watching. I truly hoped you would handle it properly, but what of it now?” Mitsunaka’s tone became even harsher as he spoke.

“The number of selected Chigo Miko did not meet the requirements, and their quality is uneven. Only a few have spiritual power that naturally meets the standards. This selection’s results are vastly inferior to previous ones, and the elders are furious. Yorimitsu… performing like this isn't like you at all.”

Facing Mitsunaka's accusations, Yorimitsu’s expression did not change. He maintained his calculated smile as he began to speak.

“I apologize for disappointing you, Father. Failing to complete the selection properly was indeed my fault, but… in a sense, this result was a choice born of necessity.”

“Necessity? The prominent families of Heian-kyo have periodically provided us with children possessing spiritual power every ten years for centuries. This is our contract, a command given to their generations, their duty and responsibility! This is a tradition that has lasted for hundreds of years! Do they even dare to resist!?” Listening to Yorimitsu’s words, Mitsunaka spoke loudly, a trace of anger clearly emerging.

“Yes, the contract of the children of Heian-kyo is a century-old tradition… but Father, life grows and eras change. Even the sturdiest boulder is weathered by the wind. Nothing in this world remains unchanged… including the hearts of men, including so-called traditions… being obstinate and unyielding will not lead the family forward…” Minamoto no Yorimitsu looked back at the clearly angered Mitsunaka without a hint of fear, speaking with absolute solemnity.