#but she will take away that as she does not fit the narrow societal definition of womanhood that there is no space for her in it and

[scentofpines]

have you ever considered...that identifying out of woman/girlhood because you don't relate to the societal implications, expectations, etc... contributes to making womanhood (feel) even more restrictive? maybe you feel better when thinking of yourself as anything but a girl/woman because you do not feel like a woman (what does that even mean?) but in my opinion you just added another brick into the prisonwall that is gender.

[idrewbedraggledbreaths]

Sorting Daenerys Targaryen and Jorah Mormont with the sortinghatchats system (GoT verse)

I didn’t want to write this post before I finished my Killing Eve sortings (basically Carolyn and Konstantin), but I’m stuck with them, so I decided to revisit an old fandom instead with a new approach. My take here is possibly an outsider’s take, given that I haven’t interacted with this fandom for a while, save for a few close friends I made in it. Now, bear in mind this sorting system IS NOT the original HP system, it is simply based on it. It sorts you into two houses. Your primary is you WHY, your reason to be who you are, what you believe in. Your secondary is your HOW, the way you act and approach life. Below is a little tl;dr of what each of them are (I’m using the animal terminology that’s being used in many blogs, by the way. If you know the houses, you know what each animal is supposed to represent).

Lion primaries are intuitive and guided by their moral compass, which is very strong (doesn’t mean what they believe in is in fact good or correct) and Lion secondaries are the people who charge straight at something, regardless of whether they will come out of it unscathed or not.

Snake primaries value people. Not any person, their people. They will go to hell and earth for their people to be safe and happy, which can get kind of self destructive. Snake secondaries improvise much like Lion secondaries, but they tend to adapt to situation and shapeshift their way out of problems.

Bird primaries also value right and wrong like Lion primaries, but they build their systems with external information and observation, not from their gut feelings. That means Bird primaries change a lot with time, because their ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ change. Bird secondaries collect. Skills, tools, random knowledge, they delve deep and acquire as much of them as they can, not because things are useful, but because it’s fun.

Finally, Badger primaries are also people-persons, but their communities are much broader than a Snake primary’s. They value people, tradition, cultures and so (but not every Badger sees everyone as people, so there’s that). Badger secondaries are the hardworking types in the sense that they cultivate things, they invest in them and even become them.

You can develop models of each house according to what you find useful or what society has instilled in you, but when push come to shove, the models aren’t the real you. All of these houses can burn, meaning their essence is somehow scared away from them due to trauma, depression, societal pressures, etc. That means a Lion stops trusting their instincts, a Snake no longer feels like they’re able to protect their people or their people are better off without them, a Bird loses faith in their systems and a Badger closes themselves off from their communities and adopts a smaller circle of people. Burnt houses can look a lot like each other. For more info, check out the tags. 

Daenerys

Double Lion, no doubt (for most of the show). Dany knows what’s right, she feels it in her bones. She never tries to rationalise her decisions and she won’t usually budge, even if she is presented with a more rational plan. None of her advisors have really convinced her to do anything, they might have pushed her to do what they wanted, but if she had her way, Daenerys would only ever listen to her own heart. She needs people around her to help her not make impulsive, brash decisions(because of her Lion secondary that I will get into), but she definitely doesn’t need - and doesn’t want - a moral compass, hers works just fine. She was burned as hell in the first episodes of the first season, mostly because of Viserys’ horrible influence, because he had robbed her of a purpose, of her truth. Drogo also stifles her primary and secondary for a while, but he eventually gives her some space to be herself. When she unburns, she unburns fast. ‘Not a Queen, a Khaleesi’ is pretty much Day gong ‘yeah, I can do things my way, I can be my own person with my own values and my own self.’ I think from there on, her quest to liberate 1) take back the Iron Throne 2) liberate Slaver’s Bay and ‘Break the Wheel’ just show how much she is focused on a big quest that is not explained by reason, by her need to form a community or by the influence of someone in her life. She does it because that’s the Right Thing ™ to do, and that’s Lion primary in a nutshell. Another thing that points towards Lion primary to me is how she just won’t take criticism and specially betrayal well (not that anyone does, but Dany is particularly unforgiving most of the time). Lion primaries are particularly shaken when someone they admire doesn’t have the same moral standards as they do, because deep down they like to think they know what’s ‘good’ and ‘true’ (oops my Snake primary who doesn’t really get Lions is showing), so if you don’t follow them and their beliefs, you must be doing something wrong. This is why Dany is so fucking pissed at Jorah when she finds out he betrayed her. She is also devastated true, and she misses him, but her ideals and her ‘truth’ stop her from seeing things from his side ad from forgiving him until he has proven himself worthy. Her reaction to betrayals tie in to the fact that she is a MASSIVE Lion secondary. She headbutts her way into things and her liberal use of Dracarys is proof of that. That’s not to say she doesn’t think or plan or listen to her advisors, but when push comes to shove, homegirl ACTS. Fuck the consequences, I have three dragons, fucking try me. Don’t tell me that climbing on Drogon in the fighting pits and burning the Khals were calculated decisions. Burning the Lannister army wasn’t a calculated decision. She leaves the planning to the people around her. This is something I struggle with regarding Lions, but I have to admit they are much more prone to seizing opportunities that us Bird secondaries (because I do have a Snake model but it is utter shit). 

Now, in seasons 7 and 8, she starts burning again. She gets to Westeros, where people aren’t flocking to her side like they did in Essos. Daenerys lets herself be swayed by Jon’s pretty little speeches that sound very Lion, sound very true to Daenerys, but guess what? She is fucking betrayed by everyone. The people she loved are killed, her children are killed (and the whole ‘I will take what is mine’ thing indicates that she might have a Snaky primary model, after all, she does some things because of what she claimed as hers, be it people or the Throne), she is left absolutely alone, so she burns, she loses faith in herself, starts doubting her actions and her instincts and no one is there to help her unburn safely, so the way she does it is destructive, as it often is with Lion primaries who don’t have guidance in order to regain their trust  their instincts and their selves. To me, the KL incidence is her primary going ‘You fucking left me behind, you fuckers, now you are going to see that I was right and fuck the consequences’. Her primary takes a turn for the worse with the help of an impulsive secondary and she ends doing anything to reach her end goal, similar to Albus Dumbledore and his disregard for human life as long as Voldemort being defeated is concerned. 

Jorah

I have no doubts whatsoever that Jorah is a Snake primary. I know the fandom likes to sort him into Hufflepuff when using the traditional sorting system and while there’s no doubts he is a loyalist to the bone, Jorah’s loyalties are much narrower than a Badger primary’s would be. Before he meets Daenerys, he wants to go home and make up with his family, because they are the ones who matter. Not his reputation, not the North, not Bear Islad itself, the Mormont House. Before that still, he does literally anything to keep Lynesse happy, including doing things that are against the law. This utter devotion to certain people are what makes him a Snake primery to me, a paricularly self destructive one. He starts worrying about the fact that he berayed Daenerys when he ‘adopts’ her into his circles and more so when she goes from being in his outermost circles to being the one person his Snake primary is attached to. Daeerys is everything to Jorah. Does he persoally care about freeing slaves or generally following her morals? No, he does it because it is importat to her and he wants her to see he is worthy of her attention (I, another Snek, still don’t kow if I like Florence + The Machine so damn much because I liked a girl who was into FATM or if my Bird secondary saw her taste for FATM and went ‘OMG ME TOO LETS TALK ABOUT THAT’ and the primary just said ‘huh, that’s legit. We’ll worship her from now on’, so yeah, us Snakes do that. On a side note, I never worked up the courage to ask her out, though). That’s why he goes batshit when she banishes him. He doesn’t burn, which means his primary is so strong it wasn’t fazed by being ast out of her circles; no, he is hell bent on getting back into her good graces and if he has to sacrifice his life fr that, so be it. 

Now, when it comes to secondary, I’d say Jorah’s a Lion secondary too, even though he has a lot of models he picked up with time. Models are useful, models get you out of bad situations, but they’re not who you really are. Jorah wans to be a Bird secondary when he’s around Daenerys, he wants to be the careful planner who looks ahead and ensures she is successful and he also needs a Snake secondary model, because his life demands that he twists and turns himself to fit different situations, but deep inside he is a Lion. His most honest moments are the moments when he just does it, no thoughts head empty. Did he have a solid plans when he kidnapped Tyrion? Fuck no! Did he truly know what he was doing when he decided to fight in the pits? Fuck no! Did he think before he charged at the wights and saved Daenerys in Winterfell? Fuck no! His head was probably just going ‘my Daenerys is in danger let’s punch first and see what happens later’. He’s not like Littlefinger, who plans everything ad is so fast at analysing and changing plans he looks like a Snake. His models make him seem like the opposite of Dany, like a Bird to a Lion, brains while she is brawn, but when she is in danger, Jorah charges. 

What the Jorleesi shippers do is take Dany’s Lion primary that is so focused on a quest and show her that she can also include people in her big aspirations. The gut feeling that is so characteristic of Lions is already inside her, all she would need is to put it into words, which isn’t necessarily the strongest suits of many Lions (that’s a Bird thing). Since most of their dynamics inevitably lies on Jorah’s models regulating Dany’s secondary, there’s not much point in ‘taming her Lion’. Jorah stays the same. The fandom looooves his Snake/Lion, specially since us Snakes tend to be too hard on ourselves. A self-loathing Snake who is also a stupid brave Lion secondary? Yes. They are both stupid brave. Also just stupid. Just talk, you two, for fuck’s sake. Get over your Lion, Daenerys, and talk to him, his Snake won’t allow him to bother you too much. 

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

‘Choosing Sides’ Part Eighteen - Rip His Arm Off

Selina gave Miho a good look over when she arrived for her shift, her expression even.

“Your date with Mr. Baba went well then?” she enquired, and Miho blinked at her in surprise while her face conflagrated.

“We were just catching up,” Miho clarified. “It wasn’t a date.”

“I see,” Selina mused. “I don’t know how well you know him, but just be aware he’s definitely a bit of a rogue with the ladies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Miho nodded, trying to cool down her face without it looking like she was. “I’m aware of employee rules, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You don’t seem like the rule breaking type,” Selina nodded.

“Of course she isn’t,” a voice cracked, and both Selina and Miho straightened to the unannounced arrival of Eisuke, looking sour as ever. “No one breaks rules on my time.”

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” Selina greeted with a nod. “It’s unusual for you to come down here in person: problem?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m appropriating Miss Ohira.”

He’d taken her arm before she realised, and it took a few steps away from Selina before Miho twisted free, shooting Eisuke a pointed look before softening it to something more akin to surprise.

“I’m sorry I just… you’re taking me where exactly?” she asked, frowning a little as she looked into his face.

Rich… powerful… handsome… dominant… entitled…

“I need a date, and you’re it,” he declared. “But not…”

“Excuse me?” Miho blurted, bewilderment clashing with irritation.

“Was I unclear?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Unclear about consent maybe?

“No, I heard you, Sir,” Miho managed, reining in the sharp edge of her tongue. “You just, caught me off guard. I have a lot of work to do and…”

“You work for me, don’t you?” he asked rhetorically.

“Well, I do, but going on dates is not in my contract,” she pointed out, and in response, Eisuke bent a little closer to her.

Miho took a step back, her feet moving apart just the right amount, her arms ready to lift in defence, and she hadn’t even thought about it.

“So, you want to fight me?” he enquired, eyebrows raised, eyes shining with amusement. “Interesting.”

“I don’t want to fight you, Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho said, trying not to spit, trying not to push back so hard he backhanded her right out of the hotel - because aside from being backhanded, that would be the end of her investigation.

Baba had provided an opportunity for her to gather information, and here, in the form of hubris personified, she was presented with another.

“But I am an employee here, not an object over which you have ownership,” she continued. “Perhaps if you had simply asked me if I would be your date?”

Eisuke’s head tilted a little.

“Would you have agreed?” he questioned, and Miho gave it a few seconds of thought.

“Yes,” she answered finally, and with a satisfied grin, Eisuke held out his hand to her.

“Then I don’t see a problem,” he announced.

She knew he did, he just disregarded everything other than what he wanted. An arrogant tyrant he was, but a shrewd one.

“Define date,” she instructed slowly, her hand reaching outward cautiously.

“A stickler for detail,” he noted, watching her face as her hand inched closer to his and then stopped, hovering.

If he snatched her hand, she would recoil, he could see it in her posture; he could also see she was daring him to, so she could justify another burn.

“I require accompaniment for a ridiculous awards ceremony,” he clarified after a few more seconds. “Not whatever sordid imaginings you’ve cooked up.”

“I do have a very vivid imagination,” she volleyed, “and so better to be safe than sorry.”

Her fingers twitched, but still remained just shy of agreement.

“If this ceremony is so ridiculous, why go at all?” she asked, and Eisuke snorted out an incredulous laugh.

“You really do know nothing about me,” he sniffed. “Of course I’m winning the award, again, for Tokyo’s most successful businessman under forty, though they only introduced the age categories because they realised no one else would ever get a look in.”

“Final question,” she announced, all the while weighing up the pros and cons of agreeing.

Kaga would probably lose his shit if he hadn’t already given the revelation she’d made to Goto last night – Con.

Getting closer to the most powerful man in the hotel, and evidently Tokyo’s most successful businessman under forty could provide her with further opportunities to identify both the seller and buyer of the stolen information, not to mention potential entry to the penthouse and nearby restricted access suites – Pro.

Sorry Kaga.

“Why not ask one of what must be a large number of by far more societally influential women dogging your shadow?” she posed.

“Because they want something from me,” he pointed out easily. “Money, power, marriage, the easy life, whatever it is, their eyes cloud over – it’s nauseating. You, on the other hand…”

And he looked at their palms again.

“…I think you’d rather tear my arm off,” he finished. “And money can’t buy that kind of amusement.”

“So I’m the entertainment?” she frowned, retracting a little, and it was then Eisuke seized her fingers with reflexes Miho failed to avoid.

“That’s another question, Miss Ohira,” he remarked, and Miho grit her teeth.

He was right, she wanted to rip his arm off and beat him with it.

“Answer it, Mr. Ichinomiya,” she directed, not blinking. “Please.”

The afterthought made Eisuke actually laugh.

“Yes,” he confirmed, softening his grip just a little. “I’m bored, and you’re not nearly as afraid of me as you should be. But I don’t want you to think I’m taking without giving: name your price.”

Penthouse suite for the rest of my life?

Holiday somewhere tropical?

Bling for days?

“A favour,” she smiled as it came to her. “A favour from the most successful businessman in Tokyo… under forty.”

Eisuke thought he’d won.

Miho thought she’d won.

“You drive a hard bargain for a nobody,” he observed, sliding his thumb across the back of her hand before letting it go. “Done. Now stop wasting my time, you’re not nearly ready enough to be seen in public with me.”

“It’s not going to take an entire day to get ready,” she asserted, shaking her head a little.

“Oh, yes it is,” he replied flippantly, and walked off, expecting her to follow.

Style hair, put on make-up, don pretty frock, match shoes and bag, add jewellery.

That’s the normal process.                                                              

But Eisuke’s idea of Miho ‘getting ready’ was a true production.

He left her in the hands of one of the hotel’s stylists, who co-ordinated all her appointments across the day – dress and shoe fitting, body scrub, nails, three different hairdressers squabbling over the best do, make-up artistry, accessorising and embellishing. The only real breaks she had were to snack and go to the toilet – also the only time she was alone enough to send through an update to Uncle Fujiwara.

The reply read, “Use extreme caution. Check in when you return,” and Miho had to believe the message wasn’t Kaga’s.

When the finally time arrived for Miho to actually meet with Eisuke, she was thoroughly exhausted. She tried not to fidget in the gown the stylist had ultimately chosen out of Eisuke’s shortlist; it said as much about him as it did reveal Miho’s skin – very different to Baba, who had most certainly had her modesty in mind when he’d delivered her his dress.

“Hotel uniform does look good on you,” Eisuke said when he approached her in the lobby, his judgement one hundred percent transparent, “but this is a marked improvement.”

“I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho smiled reservedly, “however, it’s all a little over the top.”

“No such thing,” he smirked, and offered her his arm.

“The mind boggles at the cost of this dress alone,” she muttered as she attached herself to him and they headed for the doors, “let alone the jewellery.”

“A couple of million probably,” Eisuke shrugged – pocket change really, but Miho couldn’t help but choke on the idea of walking around with that much money dangling off her body. “So don’t disappear,” he added as they approached the limousine waiting for them outside. “Soryu will find you and after that…”

“It’s a little early in the evening for threats, don’t you think?” Miho sighed, rolling her eyes and pausing to look back at him in the open doorway of the limo. “I haven’t even had champagne yet.”

“Let’s rectify that,” Eisuke responded smugly, motioning for her to get into the vehicle before following.

“So, Mr. Oh is your personal goon squad?” Miho questioned, seating herself carefully so as not to be indecent.

“Hardly,” Eisuke chuckled, handing her a flute of chilled champagne. “But times are dangerous, and Soryu is excellent at what he does.”

An evasive answer.

Miho looked into the glass at the shimmering liquid, then over the rim at Eisuke.

“Think I’m really so common as to drug your drink?” he frowned indignantly.

“Times are dangerous,” Miho pointed out, using his own words against him, but she lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip, which seemed to assuage Eisuke a little.

His eyes, however, warned her not to push him too far, that he had his limit and he wasn’t going to suffer her if she crossed the line.

Eggshells… crunch crunch.

Conversation after that was minimal. Perhaps Eisuke hoped the silence would cause her to squirm and in all honesty Miho was uncomfortable – but she was not going to squirm for him.

“Is it strange,” she asked when she took his hand and gracefully unfolded from the limousine, “attending an event like this in another five-star hotel?”

“Hmph,” Eisuke snorted derisively, escorting her into the golden lit lobby of the Hilton Tokyo. “Four-star and barely that.”

“So you don’t consider them competition?” she asked, nodding kindly to the concierge, who had taken one look at Eisuke and called an elevator.

“Nobody, is competition,” he smirked: cocky but he truly believed it.

“And why is that, Mr. Ichinomiya?” she continued, preceding him into the elevator.

Her question had been casual in tone, but when the elevator doors closed, she became suddenly aware of the fact they were alone in a very confined space.

“I have more money, and more influence than anyone in this city,” he said just behind her shoulder, and Miho turned around to face him, even though she might have liked to move away. “Isn’t that why you asked for a favour?” he went on. “Because you know I can grant you anything?”

“Anything?” she repeated, tilting her head a little, and as if taking this as a challenge to his reach, Eisuke shuffled a little closer to her.

“Anything,” he stated flatly, eyes cold and apparently displeased by her doubt.

“This,” Miho began evenly, though inside she had scuttled as far back against the wall as she could get, “is going to be a really long evening if you spend it trying to intimidate me.”

She was the first to look away, but she made a point to turn her body slightly away from him without widening the gap between their bodies.

“If I was trying,” he stated, the weight of his hand against her hip far greater than flesh and bone alone, “you’d know it.”

Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!

Her chin lifted and she glared as her fingers encircled his wrist, just as the elevator chimed and the doors opened.

“It might be a little embarrassing,” she whispered through her teeth, not jerking his hand away as she had intended now they were exposed, “if your arm candy abandoned you.”

Instead, she lifted his hand slowly with a comfortable smile, and turning to the elevator opening, once more entwined their arms.

“Someone with the audacity to ask me for a favour,” he hissed against the side of her head as they walked toward the ballroom entrance, “wants it for a reason.”

Uniformed hotel staff opened the double doors dramatically, and there Eisuke paused to look pointedly into his arm candy’s face.

“And that’s why you won’t abandon me,” he finished with obvious satisfaction.

The ballroom was already packed with men in tuxedos and women in expensive gowns; the king and his escort were fashionably late, but that made sense.

All eyes seemed drawn to them as they were enveloped by the warm orange glow of the room, an Eisuke’s expression slipped into haughty indifference. Together they carved a path through envious men and doe-eyed women, and only occasionally did Eisuke stop to greet someone – always his terms, not theirs. They glanced at Miho, but passed her over; she was little more than an accessory, just like the diamonds in her ears and hanging around her neck.

She smiled graciously when someone happened to make eye-contact, but was never engaged in conversation, which actually made it easier for her to study the sycophants attempting to get into Eisuke’s good graces.

By the time entrees were served, however, her cheeks were aching, and she was glad to take her seat. Effectively a persona non grata, she was not involved the discussions around the table of eight, that comprised of a politician and his wife, two high ranking public servants and a CEO of an engineering firm with his… toy.

Dialogue revolved around currency prices, import-export tax, tourism trends and constrictive government policy, which was not especially unlike much of what Miho had been involved during her work with government agencies. The difference was the serious tension between each of the men, and the catty, sideways glances between the women.

After main course, there was applause when Eisuke was called to the podium, but Miho was much more interested in studying the crowd than she was in listening to whatever arrogant rubbish Eisuke spouted in his acceptance speech. Glowering, sneering, disgruntled, jealous, as politely as people spoke to Eisuke face to face, there was no small amount of envy from the competition and those who wished desperately to be him.

It wasn’t until Eisuke stood behind her chair and lightly placed his large, cool hands against her bare shoulders that she snapped out of her thoughtful daze.

“You wouldn’t call me boring, would you?” he whispered directly into her ear.

“I could summarise if you’d like to test exactly how much I consolidated,” she replied, trying to relax beneath his fingers as they tapped, turning her head a little to meet him half way.

“No, I think it’s time we made a real spectacle of ourselves,” he smirked, pulling her chair back enough to indicate she should stand.

“How exactly?” she questioned, unable to not look or feel slightly worried.

He took her hand in answer, and led her to the centre of the absolutely empty dance floor, surrounded by the wealthy and the important who once more looked their way.

“Being the centre of attention is not really my thing,” she muttered while trying not to grimace or flush with embarrassment.

This proved all the more difficult when Eisuke snaked his free arm around her waist and rested it on her hip.

“If you didn’t want to be stared at,” he told her, pressing himself against her as the piano and cello began to play some light jazz, “then you shouldn’t have worn that dress.”

“You really love having power over people, don’t you?” she noted a little bitterly as she followed his lead in time with the music, trying to ignore the fact they were the only ones dancing.

“Absolutely,” he dropped as if as much was elementary.

Abruptly he turned her, like he really was trying to get her to screw up, but Miho stepped around his feet with the confident alacrity of someone well acquainted with formal dance.

“Is it worth it?” she asked him, every few seconds the room nothing but a blur of dapple and light. “Coming to an event like this just to stand before a group of men who are either desperate to join you, or who’d love to see you fall?”

“It’s important the plebs understand their place,” he remarked, his hand slipping further toward the small of her back.

“And the hundred or so women in this room who’d murder their first born if it meant they could trade places with me right now?” she probed, if only to distract herself from the pressure of his fingers. “I know what you said earlier, but surely a union with some wealthy heiress would only advantage you. Mhm, though if you squeeze me any more tightly, tongues will wag.”

“I don’t need the help of a woman to gain an edge in business, or anything for that matter,” he said pointedly, lips actually brushing her earlobe as he spoke, and Miho’s body tensed.

“Is that right?” she frowned, sliding her jaw from one side to the other before accidentally stepping on his toe. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“You will be if you do that again,” he growled against her neck, but Miho chuckled.

From the outside she wondered what they looked like – what story was their audience conjuring about their non-existent relationship from this farce?

“You don’t like it when your entertainment gets the upper hand?” she queried, but her smile wavered as his hand crept up to the hidden zipper at the back of her bodice. “What are you…?”

“You don’t, have the upper hand,” he exhaled to her cheek.

Their noses brushed as she turned her head, and there was a few seconds of steely eye contact, before Eisuke leant Miho back so far her carefully sculpted curls nearly brushed the floor.

“Having fun?” Miho swallowed as he held her there at a complete disadvantage.

“Very much so,” he smirked, placing his other hand to the side of her face and touching his thumb to her lips, just as the music stopped.

More obsequious clapping punctuated the moment, and Eisuke only righted Miho once it began to wane.

“What other tricks am I supposed to perform tonight?” she asked, and then immediately regretted her turn of phrase.

“Your words, not mine,” he pointed out, actually emitting a satisfied chuckle, short lived though it was.

“What an exquisite companion,” an attractive man complimented when they finally made it off the dance floor, eyeing Miho up and down – flattering perhaps, but respectful?

Certainly not.

Before Miho could even purse her lips to form a polite acknowledgement, Eisuke had jerked her against him, once more coiling his arm around her waist.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho smiled, retaliating with her words, “he’s used to having things all to himself.”

“Well this is my night,” he declared, but Miho was satisfied with the warning dig of his fingers into her side.

“Please excuse me,” she then smiled sweetly. “It’s well past time I powdered my nose.”

Despite clearly wishing to convey to his rivals this concubine was his, there was not a whole lot Eisuke could do other than let her go when she pulled the bathroom card.

So he let her go, and with her fake smile dialled back down to a simmer, Miho collected her clutch from her seat and took refuge in a toilet stall.

In a slump she allowed the pent up tension to leave her body – verbal combat and the constant tight-rope walk was putting a strain on her in a much different way than sparring with Kaiji.

“And what exactly have you learned?” she asked herself, shaking her head. “But surely… a man like this, he would know… he has to know something.”

Gathering herself, and what reserves of energy and resilience she could, Miho eventually left the bathroom and began down the wide corridor, but a familiar voice caused her to stop in her tracks.

“So it is you, Miss Fujiwara.”

Continue to Part Nineteen - Give It To Me