The map table was covered once more and set with tea and a few covered dishes. Uminushi sat on one of the cushions, a knee bent with an elbow pressed against it. His foot tapped as he waited for his guest, eyes distant as he thought of the days to come. Things were moving far too quickly for his liking, but he made time for small mercies such as this.

Sometimes, it was all one could do.

With a soft rap on the door, Isawa Junpei let his hand fall to the side. His face was pale and exhausted having spend the night unable to sleep. His skin was drawn and faint rings surrounded his eyes both of which only served to give him a more skeletal appearance than even his thin frame would normally. Quietly waiting to be given permission to enter, he waited, hand pressed together, head hung, hair unbound rustling in the wind.

"Come in," he calls cheerfully, forcing the smile on his face into his voice.

Opening the door, each motion a diligent act to somehow make himself smaller than he was, his shut the door with all do care, as though if it were to creek or make a sound of any kind that somehow some calamity might come up them. Turning to face the captain, he folded his hands into his lap and bowed low at the waist.

"Sit, Isawa-san... it looks like you haven't slept at all last night," the Captain indicates the seat across from him, "I doubt you've remembered to eat as well."

"I'm not particularly hungry, captain," Junpei tried to force a polite smile, but it only served to highlight his disheveled mood. Kneeling on the cushion opposite the Mantis, he smoothed his robes, lifting his arms to allow his sleeves to fall properly as he folded his hands in his lap.

"I recommend you do. It might be a while before you taste anything from home," he replies quietly.

Junpei didn't look up, though the words caused the young shugenja's heart to jump and his face to blanch even further. He could feel a terrible fear welling up within him. In many ways it was not even the fear of being on the island, which he found curious. Instead it was the knowledge that if he stayed he would never see home again because he would be slaughtered along with every other living being, his soul to be gnashed in that same devouring maw that he had felt a thousand times over.

Uminushi, unaware of the young man's thoughts, begins to pour for them both.

"They've asked that you be turned over to them. I have acceded. They will run a few tests to make sure that you aren't demon possessed, which I believe you aren't. I've been informed that they may draw blood in the process with the pricking of ivory needles," he informs the young man calmly. The Yoritomo sets the cup of tea in front of the Isawa. It was not tea, but sake.

"If you cooperate, it will go more easily for you. Answer their questions to the best of your ability. Think of them as Inquisitors," he advises quietly.

"I will," Junpei said simply staring into his cup of sake. "Though my life is forfeit no matter my decorum."

"... I'm sorry?" he asks with an arch of a brow, waiting for the Phoenix to explain and elucidate that cryptic remark.

"I will be put to death." Junpei clarified, offering a brief pause, "If not by them then by our own traditions."

"That may well be," he replies, not seeing the point of lying, "However, you're not dead yet and I advise you use that time wisely."

Junpei nodded unsure what he could do aside prepare his soul for its inevitable next incarnation.

"Making Cook happy for example," he suggests as he uncovers the dishes. They were not the usual rations one received, but a fine example of some of the delicacies from the Phoenix lands.

Tears welled up on the young priest's eyes and he pressed a sleeve to his lips to occlude their awkward movement. For several moment he just sat like that, focusing all his willpower into keeping his On. Though his face never broke, a tear rolled down his cheek as the reality of his situation continued to settle in. He would be dead in this foreign land, even if not by foreign hands. He would never see the waters of the empire ever again.

Cliches be damned, his mind just swept to helping newly hatched turtles on the beach reach the sea as a boy. He thought of being so small and safe,running through flocks of circling seagulls to scatter them away. Now...now it was all gone. "I can't accept this, captain."

"That would be unfortunate, since I can hardly finish this all by myself," he replies, ignoring the young man's tears as he leans back on his hands, "And a waste... are you sure you won't reconsider? She did spend an awful lot of time over it."

Junpei was silent once again. Lowering his sleeve he nodded, "Give this to someone who might appreciate it."

His chest hurt saying those words. Even in his time at Kyuden Isawa he had never been treated to delicacies of his lands. His family was not wealthy, so to speak, and so he had a life of mediocrity, served with student fair and simple dishes. He wanted them, these delicious homages to his homeland...but he couldn't allow himself these niceties.

"I truly doubt there is anyone onboard who would appreciate this more than you," he replies with a charming smile. "Come now, you need to keep your strength. So, let's eat."

Had self-flagellation been an acceptable practice in the empire, Junpei would likely have taken it up with gusto at this point, as dedicated as he was to punishing himself in any way possible. Taking his chopsticks into his hand he held them, feeling their weightless heft. Then the images flooded back into his mind of spirits descending into a mad hole in the sky, with their screams of soul-numbing terror and pleas for help. Junpei's stomach churned and he felt as though he might throw up.

Setting down his chopsticks he folded his hands back into his lap and sat silently. Strength of the body was no longer needed.