Etiquette × The Third Elder

And so, just as Izuna had expected, his grueling crash course in noble etiquette officially began.

Madara was as quick to act as ever.

The day after they settled on their stalling strategy, he dug Izuna out of his warm bed and announced in a tone that brooked no argument, "Starting today, you're going to learn the necessary etiquette from the Third Elder."

Bleary-eyed, Izuna clutched his blanket and tried to resist. "Brother... five more minutes... no, two will do..."

"No." Madara remained unmoved and hauled him straight up. "The Third Elder has already agreed. Now, get washed up, and go over there as soon as you've finished breakfast."

Izuna wilted like a cabbage seedling struck by frost.

He knew Madara had disappeared for a while the previous afternoon to "invite" a teacher.

Even his toes could have told him that Madara's idea of "getting her agreement" probably hadn't involved a particularly gentle exchange.

The Third Elder, Uchiha Emiko, was the clan's only female elder. She was known for being rigid and strict, and for placing great importance on rules and etiquette. Even Madara would instinctively rein in his imposing manner a little when facing her.

But when Madara had personally visited her the previous day to "discuss" it, it had been less a consultation than an order from the clan head that could not be disobeyed.

Emiko did not believe that was Izuna.

The Izuna she knew moved like a willow or a vine, graceful and proud.

Even when he was with children, he never lost his poise.

How was he anything like this impostor wearing Uchiha Izuna's face? All he did every day was run around wildly. His skill with the pipa was impressive, but he had no poise whatsoever. He was an utter embarrassment.

But since the clan head had given the order, Emiko could set aside her prejudice.

Provided the child could settle down and study. Emiko lowered her eyes and took a delicate sip of tea.

Madara brought Izuna to a Japanese-style residence in a quiet, secluded spot deep within the Uchiha Clan Compound.

The walls were a little higher than those elsewhere, and the area before the gate had been swept spotless. The garden was laid out in a pleasing arrangement, with a different view at every step, its orderly beauty striking them at once.

"This is it. The Third Elder is waiting for you inside." Madara patted him on the shoulder, his tone softening a little for once. "Study hard. She's... experienced."

With that, Madara glanced at the tightly shut gate, which seemed to radiate an invisible pressure. Without hesitation, he turned and activated the Body Flicker Technique, vanishing from the spot with a whoosh, so quickly that he left only an afterimage on Izuna's retinas.

He looked rather as though he were fleeing for his life.

Izuna: "..."

He looked at the empty mouth of the alley, then at the gate before him. His sense of foreboding instantly soared to its peak.

Even Brother Madara couldn't take it and had to run? Just how terrifying could she be?

He took a deep breath, braced himself, then stepped forward and, following modern custom, raised his hand and knocked three times. Knock, knock, knock.

A woman's voice came from inside, even and impassive, impossible to place by age. "Come in."

Izuna thought nothing of it. He pulled the gate open and stepped straight inside.

The courtyard was even more austere than he had imagined. Unlike the front garden, it had no ornamental plants except for a single pine tree. The ground was covered in fine white gravel, raked into neat ripples.

An elderly woman in a dark purple Uchiha clan outfit sat with her back to him, kneeling upright on a cushion beneath the veranda eaves. Her hair was impeccably combed, her back straight, and a set of antique-looking tea utensils stood before her.

Hearing the gate open and his footsteps, the elderly woman slowly turned her head.

Her face was aged, but she was still beautiful, with clear features, a high nose bridge, sharp, clear eyes, and naturally downturned lips. She carried the authority and scrutiny of someone long accustomed to a high position.

Her gaze swept over Izuna like two little brushes, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, then back up again.

His posture was loose, his shoulders slightly slumped, his neck craned forward, his eyes darting everywhere, and his fingers picking absentmindedly at Biwa's strap...

Not a single thing about him met the standards of bearing expected of the Uchiha Clan, especially its upper ranks.

He was utterly unlike the "Uchiha Izuna" in her memory, whose every movement had carried an almost innate pride and restraint.

Elder Emiko frowned almost imperceptibly, and an extremely soft snort escaped her nose.

He really was seriously "ill," to have forgotten even what was in his bones.

But the clan head's orders came before everything, especially when that clan head was Madara Uchiha.

She suppressed her displeasure and spoke in that even voice of hers, which carried an invisible pressure. "First of all, you need to relearn the etiquette for entering a residence."

Holding Biwa, Izuna stood there, a little bewildered. "Huh?"

"Outside the gate, you should kneel beside it and call out to ask permission, or clearly state your purpose." Elder Emiko's gaze pinned Izuna in place like nails. "Only after the person inside explicitly permits you to enter, or gives an appropriate response, may you rise, open the gate, and enter."

"Once inside, you should not immediately approach or speak. First, proceed to an appropriate position, kneel properly, greet your host again, and state your purpose. Only after your host gives a signal may you continue the conversation or take the next step."

She paused, looking at Izuna's face, on which Does it have to be this much trouble? was written in full, and spoke more sternly. "Everything you just did, from knocking on the gate to entering and standing here, was improper. It seems your six months of 'recuperation' have made you forget quite thoroughly."

The corner of Izuna's mouth twitched, and he tried to explain. "Well, Third Elder, I might have been—"

"The past is the past, and the present is the present." Elder Emiko cut him off without ceremony and pointed her chin at the spot in front of him. "Now, go back outside and start over. Straighten your back! As an Uchiha, what kind of disgraceful way is that to stand?"

Izuna: "..."

Resigned, he held Biwa and shuffled backward out of the gate. Then he looked at the gate he had opened, thought for a moment, and gently closed it.

Outside, the sun shone brightly, birds sang, and flowers filled the air with fragrance.

Inside, the atmosphere was as tense as a military training ground.

Izuna looked down at his toes, then at the smooth threshold. With a sigh, he imitated what he remembered seeing in Japanese dramas and knelt properly beside the gate.

He cleared his throat and called out to the gate, "Third Elder, I am Uchiha Izuna. I have come at the clan head's orders to study etiquette."

There were two seconds of silence before the woman's even voice came from inside. "Come in."

As if granted a reprieve, Izuna hurriedly got up, opened the gate, and went back in.

This time he knew better. He walked beneath the veranda eaves and, about a meter and a half from Elder Emiko, copied her posture, trying his best to straighten his back as he knelt down properly.

The position made him feel as though every muscle in his body were protesting, but he knew he had to maintain it.

"Third Elder, I am Uchiha Izuna. I have come to study etiquette," he repeated, feeling as though he were acting in a period drama.

Only then did Elder Emiko give an almost imperceptible nod, accepting his opening. "Mm. Starting today, I will teach you the manners and bearing required at noble banquets and formal occasions. These include sitting, standing, walking, kneeling and bowing, making formal greetings and yielding precedence, eating and drinking, and responding in conversation."

Her gaze swept over Biwa in Izuna's arms. "Put the instrument aside for now. Etiquette consists of outward posture and rules. With a restless mind and an object in your hands, it is difficult to concentrate."

Izuna obediently and carefully set Biwa down beside him.

"First, sitting," Elder Emiko said slowly. "Your current posture appears proper, but in truth your waist and abdomen lack support, your shoulders and neck are tense, and your breath remains shallow in your chest. If you continue like this, not only will you look ungraceful, you will tire easily and lose your composure."

"Proper upright sitting should be..." She began explaining the details, from the placement of his toes and the angle of his lower legs to how to use his waist and abdomen for support, how to relax his shoulders and neck while keeping straight, how to tuck his chin in slightly, and the angle at which to lower his gaze...

Every detail was held to an extremely exacting standard.

At first, Izuna tried hard to adjust as instructed, but before ten minutes had passed, his legs went from numb to painful, then felt as though millions of ants were gnawing at them.

His waist ached, his back was stiff, and his neck felt as though it no longer belonged to him.

"Your waist! Lower it! Don't hunch over like a shrimp!"

"Relax your shoulders! I didn't tell you to let them slump!"

"Your head! Raise it a little! Don't let your eyes wander! Look at a point one foot in front of you!"

"Your breathing! Deep, long, even, and fine! Are you panting?"

Elder Emiko's voice was not loud, but it struck like a whip, landing precisely on every detail of Izuna's posture that failed to meet the standard.

At some point, a smooth, slender bamboo ruler had appeared in her hand. Whenever she saw Izuna's posture slip, she gave him a tap, neither too hard nor too soft.

Izuna complained bitterly to himself. This was more exhausting than making him fight ten Rhythm Game boss battles in a row! At least Rhythm Games were fun, even when they tired him out. This was pure torture!

Time passed slowly, and the sun gradually climbed higher. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Izuna's forehead, and the cushion beneath his knees seemed to have turned into a bed of nails.

Partway through, Elder Emiko finally took pity on him and allowed him to move around a little, before beginning his training in "walking."

Beneath the veranda eaves and through the gravel courtyard, he followed prescribed straight lines and curves. There were requirements for the size of his steps, how high he lifted his feet, how heavily or lightly they landed, and how far his arms swung.

"Your steps are too large! Are you about to charge into battle?"

"You're lifting your feet too high! Frivolous!"

"You're landing too heavily! Steady doesn't mean clumsy!"

"Your arms! Let them hang naturally and move slightly with your steps. Don't swing them!"

Izuna felt like a robot given the wrong instructions. He no longer knew what to do with his arms and legs.

Walking, which usually felt completely natural to him, had been broken down into countless awkward parts. No matter how he put them together, something felt wrong.

By the time the morning was over and Elder Emiko finally said, "That will be all for today," Izuna felt as though his soul were about to float out of the top of his head.

He stiffly shuffled out of the residence in the manner the Third Elder had taught him.

Holding his beloved Biwa on the way home, he found the sunshine so lovely, the air so free, and even the little dog barking woof, woof at him by the roadside so friendly.

When he got home, Madara was already there, and a simple lunch was laid out on the table.

Seeing Izuna looking as though he had been hollowed out, his gaze unfocused, Madara's lips curved almost imperceptibly before his expression returned to normal. "How was it?"

Izuna leaned Biwa against the wall and collapsed onto a cushion beside the table, letting out a long, anguished groan. "Brother... I don't feel like I went to learn etiquette... I feel like I went through torture-resistance training..."

Madara: "...It wasn't that bad."

"It was!" Izuna protested weakly. "Kneeling almost shattered my knees, and all that walking nearly made me forget how to move my legs."

Madara ladled him a bowl of soup and pushed it over. "A strict teacher produces outstanding students. The Third Elder knows more about this than anyone in the clan. When she was young, she spent some time teaching etiquette at a noble household and saw what those occasions were really like."

Izuna struggled to sit upright, picked up the bowl, and gulped down a big mouthful before he felt a little more alive. "She's seen those occasions... no wonder she's so terrifying. Brother Madara, did you study with her too?"

Madara's chopstick hand paused almost imperceptibly, though his expression remained unchanged. "...A little."

In fact, when he was young, the Third Elder's "lessons in proper conduct" had been his greatest headache. He had tried every possible way to escape them and had earned plenty of scoldings from his father Tajima as a result. That was one of the reasons he had slipped away so quickly today.

The past was too painful to recall.

Izuna gave him a suspicious look, feeling that Brother Madara's reaction was a little odd. But he had no strength to investigate further; every muscle in his body was screaming with aches and pains.

"Do I have to go again this afternoon?" he asked, clinging to his last shred of hope.

"Mm." Madara nodded. "This afternoon you'll learn formal greetings, yielding precedence, responding in conversation, and basic tea etiquette. Starting tomorrow, she'll add arranging your clothing and banquet etiquette."

Izuna's vision went dark. He felt that his future days were utterly bleak.

Looking at his younger brother's utterly dispirited expression, Madara's eyes flickered with amusement, though his tone remained even. "Eat. Rest for a while afterward. These things are tedious, but once you reach the Capital and face those people who look down their noses at everyone, these outward formalities will sometimes be more useful than your blade and your music."

"I know, I know..." Izuna listlessly shoveled down his food, thinking that this was probably what they meant by "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" and "formalism is the death of people."

To live up to Brother Madara's expectations, and to thoroughly "crush" those people waiting to laugh at him, he would endure this much hardship!

Izuna took a vicious bite of a rice ball, as though he were biting those imaginary conservative old fossils.

Watching him grit his teeth yet have no choice but to give in, Madara found it so funny that he couldn't resist patting his head.