Chapter Hundred Twenty-Four

The Trial of Betrayal

 

 

...

To hear his own name revealed to all the people of the Empire was... eerie.

Nekohiko had never been known or acknowledged or accepted on such a large scale. His existence always a hidden secret as though something shameful. Every person who had known his name and identity from birth either dead or having had betrayed him horribly.

Even five years ago, the secret of his existence had been preserved among the Great Lords and their bodyguards. Nothing slipping beyond their midst to the outside world.

During the wedding and the coronation, he'd had to wear another person's face to be able to fit.

And even before... carrying a fake name and fake bodies. Fake gender, fake caregivers, fake alliances.

Had he ever, once in his life, had something real? he wondered. Something that didn't have to be covered in layers of lies and secrets to be allowed to exist?

Nekohiko as a person might as well never existed, so fake everything about him was.

Except for this moment. Except for Abihiko, saying his name out loud for everyone to hear and know.

"Wakayamato Nekohiko Obibi no Sumeramikoto," Abihiko added with a casual smirk. He had always found Nekohiko's full name funny, for whatever reason. But who cared?

Yes, this was his full name. He was the Emperor, dammit. Who expected him to wear anything less sophisticated than that?

"Son or Emperor Kunikuru, the nephew of the previous Usurping Emperor Isaseri-hiko. Also my husband, obviously," Abihiko said. "And the Ninth ruler of our beloved Empire and the true heir to the Emerald Throne."

The rumble of stunned whispers and questions on the background of the courtroom was so easy to dismiss. The tribunes were muted by Binding, knowing that, under the effects of truth spells, most people in the audience wouldn't be able to keep quiet during the Trial as important as this one.

Yet although Abihiko's voice was the loudest and in the center of everyone's attention, Nekohiko still shivered deep inside with the knowledge of so many people listening in and offering their truthful opinions on what was being said.

He still heard some of their comments.

"Who the hell is that--"

"Nekohiko who?"

"Is he insane? Emperor Kunikuru's child died during birth, didn't it?"

"Didn't people say the late Emperor's child was a daughter...?"

"What is happening... what is this Trial, even?"

...

It hurt, to hear all this.

To not be taken seriously or even known in passing as a person whose name might mean something.

Yes, the Great Lords had been very meticulous when they made sure all mentions and knowledge about his existence would be erased from the eye of the public. In the strictest sense, Nekohiko had never existed, and Abihiko was making him up today -- like some silly imaginary friend he was obsessed with.

It certainly didn't help that Nekohiko wasn't in the courtroom.

And indeed. People began throwing glances around. Councilors and ministers exchanged looks, searching, even Okinaga trailed his suspicious gaze over the tribunes as though wishing to find the abominable face he so despised.

Abihiko noticed and gave Okinaga a gentle look.

"He is not present, of course. This place would have been too dangerous for him to come to, if you all knew the circumstances of his first ascendance to the Emerald Throne, five years ago. And why several of the Great Lords present have such ashen, stricken faces right now." Abihiko swerved in the center of the room, enjoying the attention as he raised his volume even greater. "Because they are murderers and traitors of the Empire and have contributed to the true Emperor's demise five years ago.

"They have failed the Spirits and the people with their scheming and manipulations and the power struggles between the Great Houses. They have condemned an innocent person to a fate worse than death, then erased his name from all the historical records to hide any trails of their deeds against the Empire. But alas -- I was one of the schemers and traitors, too." Madly, he grinned at Okinaga to Okinaga's slowly-increasing desperation. "And I didn't do my job of murdering him well enough. He lived.

"He has come back to avenge himself. He's here right now. And I will help him retrieve the justice this damn Tribunal likes to talk so much about."

...

"Here? Now?"

"What is he saying? Who is here? Where is this 'true Emperor'?"

"Is he a ghost?! Where is he?"

Clamor and panic tided over the gathering, threatening to crush it. Nekohiko's thoughts stopped full-on, so dazed and numb he was with the horrific circumstance of revealing the truth in this manner here, today.

Even his heart seemed to have stopped.

"Neko," Abihiko whispered to the seashell in his fingers. He wasn't showing it to others, holding it in such a way that most everyone wouldn't be able to see Nekohiko hidden behind his palm. "Neko, can you manifest your Binding aura? Here, right now? For me?"

...

You idiot. If only you have told me this was the way you wanted me to reveal my presence in front of the whole Empire! What if I was so stunned with your announcement just now, I would have fainted and missed you asking me this?

Would have been pretty stupid of you asking me to show my aura to everyone when I wouldn't even hear you!

Oh, he wanted to tell him a great many things. Some of them -- even politely and without cursing too much. But luckily enough, Abihiko had taken his ability to speak, and the only thing Nekohiko could do now was... exactly what Abihiko was asking him.

He was still cranky, but also oddly moved.

Abihiko's plan was so damn stupid and... over-the-top. Probably playing right into another of Morokata's schemes. But at the same time, it was also so genuine and sweet and... hopeful.

Nekohiko could not say no to him.

Never.

He shut his drawn seashell eyes and focused his mind on his Spiritual essence. It was the same across all of his many bodies and could be shifted easily between them. It couldn't cast in most of them, of course. Apart from the cat, the human, and maybe the ladybug -- he didn't have hands to approximate complex spell formations in all those wooden chips, cubes, or such small things as the Kitten's Paw seashell.

But the baseline Binding aura... that, he could spread outside himself and manifest, yes.

Like a wave of expanding energy, his Spiritual essence -- his aura -- brimmed within him. Then overflowed, reaching outside his physical form. He shone for a few brief heartbeats like a small but potent flame. And just as brightly. Ignoring him would have been impossible for any Binder in the vicinity.

Especially with the very certain flavor of Binding that he carried.

The Imperial aura. Unlike anything they'd sensed for a very long time.

No doubt the councilors and advisors of Abihiko's court knew the hue of Abihiko's own powers well enough. They knew he was immensely powerful but not to this extent.

Even the Usurper hadn't manifested powers this strong.

The rare non-Binders in the courtroom kept asking questions in agitated whispers, but the moment Nekohiko sparked his aura to touch with it the Binders in his vicinity -- the majority of people in the room went dead-quiet.

Paralyzed with the terrible suspicion that Abihiko was actually... not only telling what he believed in, but the truth itself. Facts, not mere ramblings of a lunatic.

"Imperial Aura..." somebody began the hushed statement, instantly repeated through the tribunes.

"Where does it come from? Where is the Emperor?!"

"Show us the person whose aura that was!"

Abihiko raised his hands, and the crowd instantly hushed as though commanded by such a quiet gesture.

"When it is less dangerous for him to come, he will. I promise you that. The land and the Spirits revel in his presence on the Throne. Unfortunately, some people do not. The reason he is not here now is exactly because several people right here..." Abihiko gave the room a wide stare, "have conspired to murder and frame him.

"And I know who these people were and why they did it -- because I was one of them, and thus -- I can tell you all the truth about it now.

"Listen."

 

 

---

***

 

The true Emperor's strength lies in uniting and Binding the Empire back together from whichever scattered pieces it's in. Whether it is Spirits of the land or people -- does not matter. The true Emperor has to pull everyone together and maintain peace no matter the cost.

Alas, the Five Great Lords do not want to be bound or united. Peace for them is inadvisable. They cannot prevail during peace, only during war.

Their freedom lies when the Empire is split and they can demand favors, blackmail, manipulate the Emperor. Most Emperors do not mind that and participate in the strife between the Lords, benefitting from it.

They go deep into the scheming and learn how to demand, manipulate, and blackmail the Lords back.

Not all Emperors can, however. Those who do not will be trampled by the Lords' selfishness and would end up being weak rulers, no more than puppets on the Emerald Throne. Merely dancing to the Lords' whims.

Those who struggle against the Lords too much become... inconvenient.

Sooner or later, they end up deposed from the Throne. And a more comfortable, agreeable -- naive -- Emperor gets put in their place. At times, the Lords pit the heirs of the Throne against one another solely to see which one of them will end up more convenient in the long run.

And once they make their choice, they strike.

The useless Emperor gets thrown off, the new favorite puppet settles on the Throne. The weaker, or seemingly stupider, more gullible and talentless Emperor gets chosen over the one who is best for the job.

Because the job doesn't matter. Politics is about hoarding the power, never about using it correctly or most beneficially. Spirits? People? Non-Binders? Binders?

Justice?

What a joke. If the Emperor cares too much about justice or uniting his people or about making sure the Spirits and humans coexist peacefully, he becomes useless for the power struggle.

He needs to be deposed. And in case someone else finds out about the circumstance of his downfall, he needs to be seen as an enemy. By everyone. Maybe even a monster. So that those who deposed him are viewed as heroes and saviors of the Empire.

But how?

Easy. Each Emperor has a few weaknesses that can be easily exploited. Power-hungry, lascivious, impulsive, paranoid... Due to the strain the Imperial Binding magic puts on them, the Emperors succumb to their greatest fears sooner or later.

One just has to push them in a certain direction, and the Emperor's downfall won't be far off.

The Emperors who have unleashed the full potential of their powers have trouble controlling them. Especially when they are in emotional turmoil. Thus -- just put pressure on the Emperor and see him unravel himself by the cataclysmic stress of his own powers.

You can call him mad afterward and kill him without remorse.

Even better, pretend he never existed in the first place so that nobody would feel curious enough to research or uncover the truths about his demise.

Now picture an Emperor who is a naive and gullible child, knowing nothing about the dangers the Lords will pose for him. His greatest desire -- to unite his Empire no matter what. His primary weakness -- not caring about any of the schemes or the humans who plot them.

What an easy target.

Several adults, plotting to ruin a child. Abusing the fact that he is, after all, a child under pressure, who will crack sooner or later.

And he did. Little by little.

Emperor Nekohiko opened his first seal -- Nagare -- because he was bullied, as an eleven-year-old child.

He opened his second seal -- Hira -- at thirteen. After one of his caregivers died a gruesome death in front of him, and he could not have prevented that.

The third -- Towa seal -- due to the early pressure between the Lords. The Hisome seal followed at fifteen -- simply to be able to manage the endless stress the Lords and the Civil War of five years ago put on him.

By that time, he still could control himself. All his powers, in check. He took time releasing each and never rushed it. He was strong enough to handle them and would be able to handle even the release of all his seals.

Not a monster -- not enough for others to justify how they could depose him.

Above all, he had the protection and support from the only person he knew as his father figure. The Head Priest Suminoe. The two of them together would not be toppled so easily. What Nekohiko couldn't do -- negotiate with the Lords -- Suminoe did.

What Suminoe couldn't do -- power-wise or Spiritually -- Nekohiko did.

The two of them proved to be most inconvenient, and very, very good at what their jobs would be at the helm of the Empire.

So if anyone wanted to bring ruin to one, they had to destroy the other.

Thus, with how powerful Nekohiko was, they had no choice but to strike Suminoe first.

And murder him.

 

 

---

***

 

The gathering was filled with the susurrus of doubt and disbelief at such a potent barrage of truth. The councilors and the Spiritway priests consulted with each other as though unable to comprehend Abihiko's words without checking whether they heard him right, and whether others heard the same.

The Great Lords...

Kasuga listened, pale. Sakai and Iokirihime showed no change in their reactions, yet at the same time... they never stopped Abihiko even when he attacked their actions outright.

Morokata was outside of Nekohiko's sight. Abihiko never turned to him while talking. And judging by how quiet the Hisome dais and tribunes were, Morokata hadn't uttered a word once.

Why?

Oh, Nekohiko didn't even want to think about it.

Several times, Okinaga had attempted to break in with his objections, but Abihiko only raised his voice, speaking regardless of anyone else's voice weaving in. The tension and decisiveness rang through his taut body, filling even Nekohiko with strange awe at seeing Abihiko so fierce in his speech.

But Nekohiko didn't know what to think about his words.

They were... as though describing the events from a nightmare. He both knew them dearly and failed to recognize. Everything Abihiko was saying about him was true. But too detached from Nekohiko's actual experiences.

Too... painful to give shape in his memory. Too far away.

The only thing that mattered now was Abihiko's steady voice that slowly enfolded him.

"Suminoe murdered?!" the gasps came from all sides. "But... The Head Priest is alive--"

"Lords Hira Okinaga, Hisome Morokata, and Utsuro Sakai had all been present and aware of the Head Priest Suminoe's death," Abihiko announced with a dark smile. "So were Nagare Kazuragi and Towa Hinokuma, although those aren't here to testify now. Is that not so? Lord Okinaga? Lord Sakai? Have you not witnessed the death of His Holiness Suminoe?"

...

There was no lying under the Law of Transparency.

The two Lords gave their grim affirmations, compelled to truth under the spell. But Abihiko didn't remain on this for longer than necessary.

He was already going on -- past the shocked clamor that filled the room at these words.

"But... His Holiness is alive now!"

"Where is His Holiness? We need to hear him--"

And Nekohiko could only gape, as much in a stupor as everyone else who was hearing it for the first time.

He did remember Suminoe's death, but...

Not everything that came after it. He didn't even remember Okinaga being there, at the site of Suminoe's death. So many things Abihiko spoke of were new to him, too.

 

 

---

***

 

 

The Lords tricked Nekohiko into the feeling of safety solely within Suminoe's presence. So when Suminoe died, and all this safety was seemingly swept away -- what was left?

With Suminoe's death, the Spiritside seal was also lifted of Nekohiko. And with it, the clarity of thought and paranoia of losing his only father figure forever. Every small push in that moment could exacerbate his weaknesses. Every nudge -- a shove into the abyss.

The Great Lords have abused that moment of weakness. The fears of being betrayed. The horror of being left alone.

And pushed him.

Nekohiko opened the last, Utsuro seal. And attempted to... revive the fallen Head Priest Suminoe.

...

Here, Abihiko's tone became reluctant. He dithered. But then went on, as though checking every single word -- like a footstep on extremely shaky ground.

Nekohiko had noticed before how uneasy Abihiko seemed with calling out the specific Lords during his accusations. He never said -- which Lords. Never stated what exactly they had done and why.

Even though, between Nekohiko and Abihiko, they had always assumed it had been Morokata who had schemed the most. Perhaps not fully on his own. Perhaps with the help of his equally-scheming mother, late Lady Takarashi.

But now, Abihiko avoided making any such claims under the Law of Transparency. Nekohiko understood why.

Morokata could lie under the truth spells. If Abihiko made an open claim about him, Morokata would just deny it, clearing his name under so many watchful eyes.

As he had done years ago, during their petty duel that Abihiko and Nekohiko had lost so pathetically.

This would go the same route as back then if Abihiko asked Morokata straightforwardly. So yes -- Abihiko had to avoid that at all costs.

And thus, Abihiko had to walk a very dangerous path between truth and ambiguity, to never expose Morokata during the Trial for the fear of being objected to by him openly and thus, ruining his pitch.

It was not an easy feat.

He had to evade the ugly truth about Suminoe's puppet-like corpse, too. For the sake of getting at least some semblances of truth to the public.

For now, he spoke nothing of Suminoe's resurrection at all.

As though it didn't even matter.

Only the vague hints about it left his lips:

...

The resurrection of someone is a horrible thing to do, and uses so much power, most people wouldn't even dream of it -- let alone be able to control it without losing their minds.

The terror of unleashing so many seals at once is such that the Emperor would be consumed by his powers for a long while afterward, needing recovery and peace to come back to his normal self.

Was Nekohiko given such a chance? No.

Combined, the Spiritside and the Utsuro seals split his mind and soul. Irrevocably.

He was pestered and pushed around even more by the Lords when his mind was already weak, especially to the pressure of so many people hounding him at once, from all sides. When the time came, and the foreign invaders had come to aid the Usurping Isaseri-hiko in the Civil war -- Nekohiko had been too fed up to bother.

He did what the Imperial powers allowed him to do.

He protected his people.

The foreign invasion known as the Black Ship arrival had turned into the Black Ship Forest. Yes. Yes, that one. All thought of resistance during the Civil War died then and there.

Nobody could rival the power as strong as Emperor Nekohiko's. Now, they knew.

Not only was he nearly omnipotent, he was also disagreeable and inconvenient to any of the Lords' desires and power struggles.

So what did they do? They named him the Calamity. And, shaken as they were before a power as eternal as the one he commanded, they began planning his death.

He was no longer human, to them.

He was only a Monster. A Cataclysm. An event rather than a person. Immediately, instead of him, they found a better alternative to put on the Throne while both Nekohiko and Isaseri-hiko were still busy battling each other.

All the Lords behind the backs of these two had already decided that Isaseri-hiko was nothing but a convenient bait. A distraction for Nekohiko while they prepped the demise of both.

And when all the Great Lords want you dead... you will be. The hard part is convincing all the Great Lords they want the Emperor gone. But once that is over, it becomes so, so easy to achieve.

So when asked if I would like to be the new Emperor -- a more pleasing and agreeable one than either of my predecessors -- I didn't think twice about it.

I knew Nekohiko's days were counted regardless of what I chose.

The only way I could ever hope to save him was if I participated in the schemes. If they believed I was one of them and that I could, after all, betray him along with them.

...

Well. Have I not done the job marvelously, then? Have I not succeeded, as you can see now?

He was my friend. My best and only friend.

How lowly must you have all felt I've fallen, to betray someone as close to me as that.

Perhaps I played too well the traitor's role? No matter. Because while you were all too busy scheming and pushing against each other, I made my moves, too.

I hid him, where none of you could ever find him -- to wait and recover away from your toxic, corrosive manipulations.

I kept his soul and Spirit far away for as long as it took him to come back to me and assume a physical form. A meager form it is, but a form nonetheless! Enough for him to come all this way and regain his Throne -- through marriage if not through the rightful ascension as he deserves to!

If you are all hearing what I say -- and see that I am telling the truth -- can you not see that the days of calm and quiet the Empire's Spirits have given you all lately are because of his return to where he belongs? On the Emerald Throne?

As long as his name is purified here, in this Trial -- he can return and face you all as he deserves to. All the people who want him exposed for who they are.

Murderers. 

And as such --

...

Here, Abihiko turned to Okinaga, at last.

"Your Majesty Okinaga, have you not conspired and helped murder the true Emperor Nekohiko five years ago?" 

There was no chance for Okinaga to avoid the compulsion of the Law of Transparency.

"Yes," he said, to the courtroom's staggered silence. "The Calamity that he was... I did help murder him."

"..."

The silence in the courtroom was that of a tomb. All the eyes flicked to Okinaga and then back to Abihiko, unable to process what they were seeing.

Abihiko turned to the other side of the room and Sakai's dais.

"Your Majesty Sakai, have you conspired and helped murder the true Emperor Nekohiko five years ago?"

Sakai's eyes narrowed, cold. "Yes."

...

The room could not have gone stiller than this. Hands were raised to people's mouths, cupping them, eyes gleamed, wide and unblinking. Stunned, scandalized expressions everywhere.

And Nekohiko's heart... it thundered in his ears. The truth so lifeless and... useless to him now, when spoken out loud by everyone who had ever stood against him.

Besides, Abihiko had run out of people he could ask the truth about the events of five years ago.

Even before he turned to Morokata, Morokata's gentle voice called him.

"Too bad most of the other people who had conspired in the events of five years ago are gone now. After all, neither Queen Kasuga nor Iokirihime -- and definitely not myself -- have been present at the murder." His crescent-like eyes crinkled. "Who can tell more of this, really? Such old, forgotten events..."

"Which is why it is so great there were direct proofs of the murder even among those who had not taken part in the plot." Abihiko now directed his gaze to Iokirihime. "The real body parts of Nekohiko had been cut and scavenged in order to keep them from ever be gathered back again. While I do know that Lord Okinaga and Lord Kazuragi's people had not kept their share of Nekohiko's parts... You did.

"Have you not, Your Majesty Iokirihime?"

For the first time since the Trial began, somebody was talking to her -- and so straightforwardly. Iokirihime's gaze, touched by usual dimness, grew more focused as she absorbed what Abihiko was asking.

The compulsion of truth reacted faster than she could, though.

"Yes. My sister Hinokuma's people had given me the small part of a frozen brain to keep far away. To never allow it to be found," she said, numb.

"Holy heavens--"

"So it's true--? All of it?"

"Even the Towas?!" came the disjointed, panicked cries from all the tribunes, quickly smothered by the silencing spells.

Abihiko tilted his head.

Smugness was written on his face so brightly. Perhaps he could never access the truth through Morokata. But even partially -- he could squeeze it out from those around Morokata, no?

"Where exactly does the House Towa keep that body part?" he asked her, quiet.

"In the Towa Castle's family vault," came the immediate reply.

...one that Nekohiko had kind of expected, already.

But before, he hadn't even fully believed Iokirihime would keep a small part of his corpse somewhere close to herself. How... disconcerting.

"Your Majesty Sakai -- have you not kept a part of the Emperor Nekohiko's body, as well?" Abihiko asked next.

...

Nekohiko understood it all now.

Ah, so this had been Abihiko's plan all along? To abuse the Trial's compulsive truth by forcing all the Lords who held the last parts of Nekohiko's body to confess if they had them. And if so -- where?

Nekohiko listened on, stunned at Abihiko's shameless disregard for the integrity of the Grand Imperial Tribunal. But oh well. As if Abihiko wouldn't do exactly what he wanted, without any regard for tradition or decency.

"Where do you keep it?" Abihiko asked Sakai on. "You have no castle. No palace, no capital. No family vaults. If you have that body part, where is it?"

Sakai took it all in, not showing any shift in his expressions. His eyes lay heavy and still on Abihiko, burrowing right through him.

Then subtly -- Sakai inclined his head. His thin, gaunt face lightened up in a hint of humor, at last. Yet Nekohiko could not say whether this humor was directed at Abihiko or anyone else in the audience. Because, for a slight second, Sakai's gaze flicked to Morokata.

"Yes. I have kept the body part, too," Sakai replied to Abihiko. His right hand went to his chest as though to fix his collars. But instead --

A few sharp, snappy casting formations -- and Sakai reached into and through his own chest. He was the master of the Splitting method, so he spared no time when he cast his Splitting technique on anything.

Including himself.

The audience drew in a collective breath, observing what was going on. People from the farther rows leaned onto the previous ones, craning their necks to see. Even Nekohiko found himself mesmerized by Sakai's matter-of-fact actions.

The Utsuro King Split his own chest cavity, revealing the swerving darkness within it like a separate dimension within which something lay. With just the tips of his fingers, he took it out and lifted to the light. His chest cavity was still open, for everyone to see -- but there were no ribs, no organs exposed.

Only darkness. And from it, had come this small part in his fingers.

Something the size of a plum, so small it was. Whitish-yellow like a piece of a human bone. Which Nekohiko guessed, it was.

Part of his body -- right here, in front of his eyes. And so widely open to the whole world.

"So it's true for the Utsuros, too..."

"True...!"

"True."

The whispers filled the room in the background like a slow rising tide of acknowledging Abihiko's statements of before.

"The Lords have murdered the previous heir."

"It's true! The Emperor said the truth... Which means he is telling the truth about everything else, yes?"

"The true Emperor is on the Throne, right now? But where is he? We want to see him now--!"

Nobody in the court paid these whispers any attention, though. Except for Nekohiko. Deep within him, his heart set alight with tremulous joy.

His people... wanted to see him? They were interested?

They... cared?

Truly?

"You are right. I have no castle or a vault to keep it in. I only have myself," Sakai told Abihiko with the same morbid glee in his eye. "And I keep my word very well. The part goes back to where it needs to be. To stay hidden for all eternity as we have all promised it would."

...

Abihiko flinched as though wanting to reach the fragment of the bone in Sakai's hand. But Sakai only cast him a look.

"The Emperor you talk about seems to do fine without a body. No? So I bet he doesn't need this, after all."

And with that, he drew his hand back, depositing the fragment inside his chest and sealing it closed, his robes, and the strands of the metallic fur -- all of it back together like just another layer of skin and flesh over the hidden treasure.

"No. He does not have a body," Abihiko replied, deathly quiet. "In fact, I would demand you give that fragment back to me, Your Majesty Sakai. This body part does not belong to you. It belongs to the true Emperor, and so--"

"But where is the true Emperor?" Morokata's voice hummed softly from the back. "We have sensed his aura, we know of his presence on the Throne -- supposedly. But where is he? The person who has married you -- and who we have all assumed was my dear cousin Sakami... was that not her, truly? My Spirits, where is she, then! I hope she is well!"

Abihiko didn't bother paying attention to all this irrelevant chatter. He turned, his movements sharp, and pinned his gaze into Morokata.

"You Majesty Morokata, you have another fragment of the true Emperor's body, too. Is that no so?"

Morokata's fan fluttered gracefully in his hand. He chuckled.

"Mmmm? How so? I know nothing of any Emperor's murders apart from what Your Supreme Majesty has told me just now. After all, I have not been there, five years ago, when the vile murder happened."

All of a sudden, Nekohiko felt the clenching of Abihiko's fingers around the seashell. The gesture was minuscule, as though aware he might hurt Nekohiko if he squeezed too hard. But the tremor and the desperate feel of it was apparent.

Abihiko was seething.

"He was there," Abihiko murmured, so low only Nekohiko would be able to hear. "He was right there. Next to you and me when I murdered you."

...

Nekohiko waited.

With difficulty, he gulped. He did not remember Morokata being anywhere near him in his last moments before death. But with how determined Abihiko sounded...

"I believe you," he mouthed, knowing full well that he would be the only person to whom Abihiko could tell the truth now. Even if Nekohiko's muted words would never reach him.

With Morokata stating his own version of the truth so openly, no doubt most would believe him and be only confused if Abihiko said anything against him now.

Besides, this was not the point. They had a different battle to fight.

"And my late mother, Lady Takarashi, had not given me anything at all to keep," Morokata said fondly as though speaking to a child. "To go back to my earlier question... where is this true Emperor now? What body does he hold if you, as Your Supreme Majesty said before, married him in the Main Nara Shrine a month ago? Who have you married if not Dear Sakami, mmm? Was that not a real, physical body? Thus, we can all presume, this true Emperor... Nekohiko? was it? -- has a sort of a body he resides in, no?"

"It is not a body, really," Abihiko said, avoidant. The Law of Transparency allowed him as much. "He is a Spirit, haunting this world for vengeance for his unjust death."

"Yet we have all seen a physical body back during the wedding and the coronation!" Morokata repeated, graver. "Where is it? Why is Your Supreme Majesty dodging answering these questions? Is there something wrong with that body? Is it not a human's body, by chance?"

...

Abihiko stiffened, his eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger as he looked up at Morokata far on the other side of the room.

And Nekohiko could guess why.

The body... or all the doll bodies Nekohiko possessed currently were rightless in the Empire. Dummies were not people. They had no rights, and there would be some easy loophole through which his entire existence or claim to the Throne might be dismissed due to that.

Abihiko could not allow that loophole to show up now. So he had to keep dodging.

"He is a Spirit, like I said. An Emerald Fir Tree," Abihiko said cautiously. "As the Imperial main Spirit is, as we all know."

Smart, good.

The Imperial family's tree Spirit sounded vague enough that Nekohiko's very wooden existence could be symbolically mashed together with it! The Spirits had almost as many rights and importance in the Empire as people, after all.

Spirits and humans had rights.

Dummies did not.

"This is not the way for him to exist, really. As the true ruler of this land, he deserves to have his real body back--" Abihiko kept going, steady. "And to be acquitted and cleared up in front of the Empire's people -- from all the dirt and sins his name had been smeared with."

"Ah, so true. But also... so confusing," Morokata sighed, fanning himself. "The Great Lords have shown their darker side today, indeed. I am as stunned as anyone... Such gruesome treachery, mmm."

Abihiko cocked his chin up, defiantly looking into the tribunes as he paced the room once more, ignoring Morokata and his petty grievances altogether.

"My order and plea to the Grand Imperial Tribunal is to clear up the name of Emperor Nekohiko and to acknowledge the crimes against him and the Emerald Throne by the Great Lords present. With how deeply they have hurt him before, I ask the Tribunal to provide protection to Emperor Nekohiko and keep all the Great Lords away from him for the time being while the case of his body's restoration is being addressed."

All of Nekohiko's thoughts dimmed when the tribunes didn't outright laugh in Abihiko's face. Not that they would, of course. Abihiko's claims sounded genuine and reasonable.

Research, examination, sensible actions.

But at the same time... Nekohiko just couldn't believe his people would want him back. Really want him. Or at least not mind him.

And the audience in the courtroom, not seeming too reluctant or surprised by Abihiko's plea... it was stunning, to Nekohiko's mind.

It was also beautiful.

...

But alas...

Morokata cleared his throat loudly. And lengthily.

"Your Supreme Majesty has said that he himself had participated in the treacherous murder of the true Emperor Nekohiko. Should we not address this issue as well?"

Tiredly, Abihiko turned to regard him.

Morokata beamed. "The fact that the actual murderer is standing right here, in the middle of this court, right now," Morokata explained to him with as much tenderness as his husky voice could carry. "Which renders this Tribunal quite suspect, overall. Because that makes the current Emperor, Lord Abihiko... so clearly guilty before us all and the true Emperor. Are you not?"

"I am," Abihiko said softly.

Morokata's eyes glinted with a hidden, insidious glow.

"And are the true Emperor's murderer, yes?"

...

"Yes, I am."

This time, the tribunes were not as quiet or hesitant. The rumble of frustration and bafflement rose through them, only quietening down when Morokata motioned for them to silence long enough to speak.

Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say, for whatever reason.

Perhaps they wanted drama. Or more saucy interactions between Abihiko and Morokata who had clashed so frequently and entertainingly throughout the Trial.

They hushed down, all of them.

"So if we do not have the true Emperor present to lead this Trial because he... supposedly... does not possess a body to participate. And if our current Emperor has proven to be such a hideous criminal, ruining this Trial's integrity with his actions... then who would take the part of the Imperial family's representation?"

Abihiko watched him, menacing and almost ready to burst.

Nekohiko knew this look. Abihiko was truly prepared to strike now -- with or without the Trial succeeding for either of them.

"So perhaps you should show us the true Emperor's current body, after all," Morokata said, victorious. "Otherwise there is no Trial. Is that not so, Your Supreme Divine Majesty?"

With the last vestiges of patience, Abihiko cut him a thin smile.

"Then let there be no Trial. We can postpone it if necessary--"

"Why would we? If there is always a third option?" Morokata replied with the most ecstatic expression on his beautiful face.

He turned aside, gesturing for the guards by the doors to welcome someone into the courtroom.

Someone who had been waiting there, ready for this moment, for a long, long time, it seemed.

"The Imperial Family Line does not solely consist of Lord Abihiko and the true Emperor we are not allowed to see, does it?" Morokata announced louder. For everyone to hear, in this room and anywhere else the Towa Memory exchange would show this glimpse of the Grand Imperial Tribunal and all that occurred here.

For the whole Empire.

The doors slid open with a heavy whoosh, and in came a small group of people.

Imperial Bodyguards, in their shining emerald-green armors and faceless helmets.

And among them, two people.

Hibiki, hunching as he always did when he walked. Scowling at the bright lights inside the courtroom and grimacing with distaste -- but ushering the person behind him nonetheless. Like a personal bodyguard would, welcoming into the room someone no doubt very important.

"The heir of the Emerald Throne," Morokata introduced the young man brightly. "His Supreme Divine Highness Kataji."