Akiko was full of questions when Gengyo finally returned to bed, but he avoided them deftly, saying that he merely needed the air. Neither of them were up long enough for that conversation to last much longer. Their exhaustion hit them all at once and they fell asleep in each other's arms.
Gengyo's dreams were haunted by a life that he had left behind. The busy streets of Tokyo, the crowds of people that fled across open roads when the traffic finally stopped to allow them across.
He remembered back to school, a time that had begun out rather well for him, for his athleticism and his intelligence had earned him popularity. But as his home life decayed, so too did his confidence and his social skills and he soon earned himself a spot in the corner, entirely alone.
They were painful memories for him. Even as he climbed to the top and worked his way to fame and fortune, they still stung. There was still a hollowness in his heart, as he felt he had missed out on the prime of his life due to circ.u.mstance. But, with the SAPPHIRE AI, he had been given that second chance.
His psychology was all over the place as he sought to return to the world of computing in order to offer himself a new hand and once more take back what he had lost.
Dreams of that kind haunted him throughout the entire night. It was only when the light of the sun began to drift through the palace was he finally freed from their chains. He woke up with his beautiful wife next to him, her long eyelashes closed over her sweet little eyes, sleeping as cosily as a cat.
"This is it now," he murmured to himself, casting away all those doubts that he had, "this is where I will spend the rest of my life in, in this period in history. I have a duty to do all that I can for those I care about. Despite my reservations, this needs to be done."
He freed himself from the sleeping Akiko's embrace. "Mmph…" she complained weakly, before turning over and falling right back into her deep sleep.
The maids had been in whilst they slept, leaving a fresh pair of clothes neatly folded upon the clean tatami floor. A thick winter kimono of blue to keep him spared from the cool air. He put it on slowly and deliberately, in no rush at all, continually casting looks back to his wife to reassure himself. He found it odd how quickly his heart was pounding. Surely this shouldn't be that big a deal?
He slid open the door and was surprised by how weak his grip was. For the first time since coming to this world, he prayed that he did not bump into anyone on his down to the wine cellar. He did not think he'd be able to maintain a sensible appearance if he did.
He wandered his way quietly down the many stairs, keeping his hands tucked firmly into his sleeves. It was unavoidable that he'd pass more than one maid as he went. They each bowed to him deeply, pausing whatever they were doing to show their respect. He would merely nod in return then shuffle onwards.
He heard the loud voice of his father somewhere deeper down the many corridors. For a moment, he was tempted to stop by to greet him, losing that earlier feeling of wanted isolation, but in the end, he merely slid past, making his way to the ground floor.
"Good morning, Miura-dono," an elderly maid said. Gengyo assumed her to be in charge of something or other, but he had not seen her face before. "Breakfast will be served in a little over an hour. Will that be suiting you?"
Gengyo straightened his shoulders and hardened his voice. "It will," he said deeply, assuming the mantle of a Lord.
"Very good, my Lord," she said, bowing deeply, before shuffling out of his way.
Gengyo glanced behind him before he began down the bas.e.m.e.nt steps, wondering what questions would come his way if he were to be caught.
"Ridiculous," he told himself, "there is no need to be so uncomfortable with secrecy. They know you're going to be working on your hand – there's little more to care about beyond that."
Down the stone steps, he went and through the heavy bas.e.m.e.nt doors. Gengyo noted their newness as he passed through them. Morojo must have had them replaced, for the previous pair had begun to rot from the damp bas.e.m.e.nt air.
It was dark down there in that cellar, darker than it had been before, when hundreds of thousands of caskets of royal wine were stacked here and there. Now, there was more space free than there ever had been, as Morojo sold off what was unnecessary in order to pay for the expenses of their war.
Everything was stone down there, both the walls and the floor, it could not be any other way, for the dampness that racked the air would have crumbled any wood.
A few dying torches lit the way upon the walls. From the look of them, they had burned throughout the entire night. By their light, Gengyo made his way deeper into the wine cellar, checking each door and hole in the wall for the room that Takeshi had mentioned.
Rats and smashed pallets were what greeted him, rather than the raw materials of a roboticist.
It was the last locked door in the entire space that yielded his bounty. A heavy iron door barred the way forward and three different locks kept it closed.
"Ah… Keys…" Gengyo cursed, wondering why he hadn't stopped by Takeshi's room first to collect them.
More irritated than he had been when he first went down there, Gengyo pushed on the door anyway, and by some luck, it had been left open, and its well-oiled hinges swung the heavy piece of metal out of the way, revealing his new workspace.