War and Fortune 2.235

Bishamon's room was twenty meters long by ten meters wide. The carpet had been replaced by a tatami surface and the glass windows by sliding windows made with paper squares. The huge western bed changed by a futon with a small headboard and a grass green bedspread. In addition, she had bought a six-panel screen brought especially from the Far East. The screen had a white background and a drawing of black cherry blossom branches with vibrant fuchsia leaves.

The goddess Bishamon was sitting in seiza on a cushion in front of the screen: neat blonde hair in a bun with two gold chopsticks crossing the hair from side to side. Her eyes closed while maintaining a calm expression. She wore an elegant purple kimono, leaving her right side exposed, revealing a fabric that formed a sarashi that covered her modest breasts. Beautiful, unparalleled, with fair skin and an elegant figure. She held a shamisen with a small square box at the base and a thin wooden body through which the ropes extended. She held him diagonally upper body with her left hand while taking a pick with her right hand.

In front of her were seated in a lotus position, Viggo and Rosewisse, who had returned from Midgar and after reading the scrolls that Odin collected, had many doubts. So, they came with the goddess Who better to tell them how to face this challenge than the goddess associated with war and fortune?

Bishamon brought the pick closer to the ropes that passed over the square box at the base of the shamisen. At the same time, her left hand slid down the elongated body of the top and pressed the strings. The pick touched the string vibrating the sound and filling the space. First with a "ta, tan" silence "ta, tan" silence, and then pressing the pick harder on the string to make a more watery sound while maintaining the rhythm.

Bishamon kept her eyes closed at all times, moving the pua and maintaining a steady rhythm, adding chords to each moment, and increasing the complexity of the melody, as if it were the prelude to a battle. Then the pick moved with more force and energy, producing a combative rhythm as Bishamon's fingers glided down the ropes.

The shamisen's melody quickened Viggo and Rosewisse's heart as their spirits filled with the fervor of battle at a breakneck pace marked by the plucking of Bishamon's pick in her right hand. Bishamon slid her left hand across the elongated body of the shamisen, playing with the melody and transporting them to a place where combat was breathed.

Imagination was the limit and Viggo could see how warriors dressed in armor of strong colors such as red and blue faced each other. Each wearing a katana and a helmet with different ornaments. Red with the fearsome antlers of the servant while the blue had the sculpture of the centipede, symbol of immortality. Both warriors surrounded each other with their katanas in a deadly dance where each measured the distances and fought first in his mind against the opponent.

Suddenly Bishamon stopped the sound violently and Viggo and Rosewisse could have sworn that both warriors were ready to fight and had jumped forward to exchange cuts. However, the picture faded.

Bishamon opened her purple-colored eyes and looked at the two young in front of her. Red-haired Viggo and Rosewisse silver haired. Both with blue eyes. In Viggo they highlighted the manly features of a developing boy, a seductive face, and thick lips. Something that did not leave Bishamon indifferent from beginning to end, after all, they had already crossed that line.

On the other hand, there was Rosewisse, with delicate features, a feminine face and a voluptuous figure that was the envy of many women. However, the large, beautiful wings on her back reminded her of her warrior lineage —Valkyrie— had called her.

Bishamon in a calm and seductive voice, without letting go of the shamisen or the barb, said —It's wise what Viggo does, Rosewisse. It may have just been fortuitous, we already know that he has good instincts. However, the fact is that it is a smart thing for him to study Odin—

—But— Rosewisse protested, as his wings flapped.

—I get your point— said Bishamon, moving his pick and rubbing the rope slightly to let out a lonely, clumsy sound —but to win a war you need to know yourself and then the opponent— Bishamon ran the pick over the rope again, but this time letting out a high-pitched sound. Precise and harmonious —all to deceive your opponent. When he advances, you retreat, when he retreats, you advance. When he feels safe, you bring him chaos. When it is strong, you avoid it and when it is not prepared, you attack it. However, deceiving your opponent and knowing how to measure his strength and yours is an art that to develop you first need to know yourself and then your rival—

—What if?— said Rosewisse, quietly and looking down —What if it's for the worse?—

—In that case— Bishamon said with a gentle smile as the white screen behind her highlighted her blond hair and wonderful purple eyes. She moved the pick in her right hand and the strings of the shamisen made a crisp sound —that's what we're here for. However, putting aside our fears, as goddess of war she approves of Viggo knowing Odin. If they are going to face it, they need to know their enemy. That means their mentality, their strengths, and generals. Evaluate their personalities: If they are angry, try to irritate them. If they are arrogant, try to encourage their egoism. All in order to fill the enemy army with chaos—

—There is no enemy army— Rosewisse said, frowning.

—For now— replied Bishamon —but in every conflict there must be two forces. You and Viggo are one, that God is another. That's where the interests come from and based on that, the rest of the actors are grouped together. Knowing yourself will give you the possibility to know how much you can offer. Knowing your opponent will give you the possibility to know how far he can go, who he can convince, what his weaknesses are and where and when you can attack him. Don't be afraid, Rosewisse, you are unique in this world and where you come from. No one will have the same successes and mistakes that you will have. The results may be the same, but the form is different—

Bishamon closed her eyes for a moment and slid her left hand across the shamisen's elongated upper body, pressing the strings as she moved the pick in her right hand and let out a combative sound.

Then Viggo and Rosewisse could see again the samurai in red and the other in blue. Both were still, holding their katanas, but turning their backs as if the exchange had already occurred.

The melody coming from the shamisen began to calm down and with the last friction of the pick in the right hand on the ropes, she ended the fight. The blue armored samurai with the helmet with the centipede ornament fell to the ground while the red armored samurai with the helmet with the horn ornaments like those of a serf, supported the katana on the ground, but seemed to have won.

Bishamon opened her eyes again and said in a solemn tone of voice —everyone can see the tactics a conqueror used, but no one can see the strategy that surrounds victory—

Rosewisse and Viggo were left to see Bishamon, the goddess of war and fortune. Beautiful, neat blonde hair in a bun, purple kimono, exposed right arm and showing the sarashi that covered her breasts. Slender figure and fair skin. Her expression was serious as she looked into their eyes. However, in the end, Bishamon smiled kindly revealing two white-tooth runs and told them —I hope you learn from this moment, you are both young and whatever you develop now, I will accompany you for the rest of your days. Knowing oneself and the enemy is more important than it seems. Not only as a concept of life, but applied to many aspects of life—

—Thank you, Bishamon— said Viggo, bowing his head as would his aunt Mikoto or brother Tatsumi, the only ones in his house who, despite living in Orario, still maintain the customs of the Far East.

Rosewisse, on the left side of Viggo, stared at him, also very aware of the significant look given to him by the goddess Bishamon. Rosewisse frowned, flared her wings, and punched Viggo in the shoulder. The latter complained, looked at her with a frown, and stroked his shoulder.

—Why?— asked Viggo —I didn't remember doing anything wrong—

—I'll be watching you, lustful man— said Rosewisse —poor that you become like Odin, or you will lose something worse than life. Something that only someone like you (a man who lives for pleasure) would regret—

Bishamon gave a melodious chuck and said —I think Rosewisse is still very young. I think all men would mourn the loss of that part. They are all cut by the same scissors—

Rosewisse looked at the goddess Bishamon, another rival, she thought. However, she couldn't get angry with her. Too kind and nice, it was all Viggo's fault, she thought. Rosewisse looked at Viggo again and punched him in the shoulder one last time, then got up and left the room.

—What's wrong with you?— asked Viggo, stroking the area where he was beaten twice. Rosewisse wasn't serious, otherwise he would have left bruises. However, Viggo's attention turned to Bishamon, who covered her mouth with her hand and laughed like a mischievous fairy. She moved her hand away from her mouth and showed a beautiful smile. Then she takes the shamisen, leave it aside and walk to Viggo. She sat in seiza in front of him, turned her back to him and leaned on his chest. Viggo embraced her from behind, smelled the aroma of pomegranate, light, acidic and floral. It brought back memories.

—Do you like it?— asked Bishamon with a flirtatious smile.

—Yes— replied Viggo —it brings back memories, I just remember smelling it in someone else—

—Scheherezade?—

—She told you ?—

—Yes—

Viggo shook his head while showing a small smile. He brought his lips closer and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. Then he goes down the neck, giving a deep breath to the floral aroma of the pomegranate. Too subtle to perceive from a distance. A scent that you could only enjoy with someone intimate. Someone like the two of them.

Bishamon raised her left hand, put it on Viggo's left cheek as she leaned on him and looked up —Are you coming tonight?— she asked.

—I— Viggo said, grimacing uncomfortably —I'm sorry, I have business to attend to. I must spend time with Uriel and Bell, not counting my wives—

—Don't feel bad, danna-sama— said Bishamon, pulling her left hand out of Viggo's cheek. She took both of Viggo's arms and made him hug her —I told you I would wait for you. You could come whenever you wanted, I will wait for you as long as it takes. Just don't forget me—

—Bishamon— said Viggo, feeling terribly attracted to her, by her words, attitude, and subtlety. He kissed her lips and gradually slipped his hands across the kimono, releasing the sarashi and down to her belly.