"Wolf of Mibu, Viper of Kyoto"
~By Moose M.~
[This Kenshin-esque story takes place in late 1800s Japan, during the Bakumatsu of the Kyoto Revolution just before the Meiji Restoration. Rather than Kiyokawa Hachiro founding the Roshigumi, (a founding order of the Shinsengumi.) I added a bit of fake history and made Natsuki's older brother the founder as a twist.]
Chapter 1: Dreams and Nightmares
It was a merely a dream that frightened her to her very core, haunting her every sleeping breath. Unsettling grains of black and white; a static foretelling of a TRUE nightmare. As the raven haired girl with eyes of emerald tossed and turned on her mat that lay on the floor, a series of events unfolded before her:
Late at night, crouching silently on the aged wooden shingles of a rooftop, she waited. There was a cloaked shadow, a human-like figure that stood in the dark distance below. The figure waved her hand forward in the opposite direction, the features of half the person's face that was visible bore an ominous smirk. 'That was the signal, she had to move now'. The girl arose to her feet, her *jika-tabis of cloth stepping lightly onto the distressed roofing. A pace that went from a steady walk accelerated into a full-on sprint, fueling a calculated step before jumping over an alley way clearing. She landed gracefully onto the next building without hardly a sound, just one momentary creak on the wooden shingles before the acrobat regained her footing. Continuing at a fast, steady pace the dreamer followed the flicker of ember touching the vast darkness which surrounded her; a pinpoint to the exact location of her target, one rooftop to the next.
[*Samurai/ninja footwear made of cloth and/or other lightweight material]
A group of men, cloaked in dark blue kamishimo* uniforms walked the narrow streets of Kyoto that night. The foreman carried a lit torch that illuminated the surrounding closed shops and businesses, which were pressed against and stacked atop one another like boxes. In the distance before them, a lone light shone and a wooden sign engraved: 'Dragon's Tears' could be seen by the now anticipating and thirsty young samurai.
The Dragon's Tears was a local inn and bar accustomed to serving even samurai of the opposition due to the generous tips and good business, despite the often disorderly, loud and crude behavior of the many drunks that often frequented. They were open in all hours of the night, a conveniency for the warriors, wandering ronin and travelers that would pass through. As one particular samurai that walked behind the rest of the lot let out an escaped sigh of relief, the blood that once traveled through his throat escaped as well. A silver blade pierced through the back of his neck, and out of the area of his adam's apple. A steady stream of crimson, spraying like ocean mist shot out just as the blade had broke through the skin. Dripping down rapidly in thick puddles,the man let out ghastly wheezes after the blade was swiftly removed, with a swift slash to the back that immediately followed. He bled out within a matter of seconds, after falling onto the dirt road in a cloud of dust. Amidst this dust, and in rapid succession, the girl made her way to the others before her. Caught off guard and staggered by the grisly sight before them, the three men that remained stood in trembling horror. Fear interrupted by dual slashes towards the chests of two of them. This frontal assault devastated the small squad, hacked through with ease without hesitation. Despite this shared feeling of fright, the group's captain; the foreman drew his katana from the sheath that was strapped to his side with the tsuba, dropping his torch to the ground. He lunged forward with all his courage as she neared him. The light that lay still now bore visible the feral eyes of a hungry wolf taking down her prey, fast approaching. "You damned Imperialist* pigs act and FIGHT like you've never seen a wolf before," the assassin muttered as she leaped above him before the man's blade made contact. Descending downward, the girl forced the dagger in her left hand onto the top of the superior's skull with brute force, and with her right knee driven into the rib cage of her Imperialist foe, the blow sent him flying backward. A loud crack, followed by a delayed blood curdling scream echoed, forcing the man's mouth open, features twisted and pried open into a tortured grimace. Pulling her crimson-coated weapon from her enemy, she stared at the wet and fresh corpses as she wiped the blood from her dagger with a silk cloth. No expression parted her lips, nor the cold white skin that surrounded; her eyes, dazed and emotionless. The dark blue hair that was worn in the traditional ponytail style of the samurai bore strands of hair had escaped its binds, and had become draped over her eyes. It was swept to the side from her face by a short breeze that felt cold, due to the seeping patches of blood that were splattered across her toned slender frame, and about her own kamishimo. However, the damage was hardly visible due to the blackness of the uniform itself. She had a few scrapes and cuts from an earlier bout, which she planned to take a look at after her assignments were completed. She walked towards the alluring sign, deciding to stop for a drink herself, 'she finished the job, so why not? The wounds could wait,' were the thoughts placed into the dreamer's inner conscience.
[*Kamishimo: A uniform worn by samurai
*Imperialist: The opposing force of the Kyoto Revolution, warriors that were referred to as the Choshu Patriots. Also known as the Ishin Shishi; Also present during
the Boshin wars of Japan and Bakumatsu in the late 1800s.]
Sparking fire onto a match, the wolf lit a cigarette as she entered, sliding shut the opened door as she passed. Stepping cautiously around the multitude of fellow samurai, noisy drunkards and chattering guests that surrounded her, she made her way to the back of the room. She sat in a corner in an empty booth and waited patiently for a waitress, crossing her arms. Her binded chest throbbed beneath them, constricting her breasts, which were damp with sweat from a night's worth of duties. This was her darkest secret, one that had to be kept hidden in the shadows. No woman could ever be a samurai, a status only granted to men, but no one had to know otherwise. She bared the pain, for it was hers and hers alone to carry. Taking another drag, she let out a smoky sigh. Dazed at the starry sky from the window view beside her, she began to lose herself, trailed away by her own thoughts as she waited...
Chapter 2: Rebellion
The blue haired girl awoke violently thrashing about, knocking the covers from her mat. Her bright emerald eyes open wide from the subconscious experience. "What...the hell? That was crazy!" she mumbled to herself as she arose from her place, 'That would never happen,' she thought. Sweat dripping from her brow and chin, the female stumbled across the wooden floor towards the bathroom, down the dark and narrow hallway in a daze.
"Natsuki, is that you?", a soft, familiar voice inquired. Creaking footsteps could be heard as the girl in black, now known as Natsuki, paused briefly then replied, "Yes mother. I'm just going to use the restroom."
A middle aged woman with faded raven hair tied back in a ponytail entered the halls, facing Natsuki with an expression of aggravation spelled out across her face. "But I heard screaming; something about Imperialists." The mother stepped closer within arms length of her daughter, placing her hand gently on her shoulder, "You're not a samurai, 'Natsu. You are a young woman, whose duties are of this household until you are married. Why are you still having these ridiculous dreams?" Natsuki looked sharply into mother's eyes with a shimmering green glare. "It's not ridiculous! I'm NOT getting married, and I'm NOT staying here for the rest of my life." She sighed heavily, frustrated by her mother's lack of consideration for her own happiness. "That isn't for you to decide. These are the ways of our heritage, you cannot disobey the wishes of the elder Kugas," the woman replied coldly. Her hand that had once been gentle then gripped into a tight clench around Natsuki's shoulder. "Fuck heritage! I can do whatever I please!" The daughter responded, voice raised and teeth clenched. "It's in brother's will! I am the one to succeed him as leader of the Miburo*! I A-"
Natsuki's daring words were interrupted by swift, stinging slap to the face that hit her right cheek. The point of impact became red quickly, her head turned forcibly to the left where the hit had pushed her. "It matters not what your brother expected of you. He's DEAD 'Natsu, he's BEEN dead for some time now...but I am still here, and while I am alive, you are FORBIDDEN to ever even wield a sword, let alone become a samurai. You forget about what you are. You're a woman, dear, not a warrior so GIVE it UP!" With this being said, the mother quickly turned away without any further acknowledgment, returning to her chambers.
"No...I'll NEVER give up; I will avenge his death." Natsuki stormed off, sliding open the back door. This was a better time than ever to take her leave.
Flashbacks of the dream, distorted scrambled scenes of the events playing back, occurred simultaneously in her head as she walked past, carelessly leaving the door open. She closed her eyes; head throbbing, she placed her hand on her forehead as she walked, grimacing. "What the fuck was that?" she murmured as she mentally prepared herself for the long journey ahead, a trip she had been planning since the reading of her late brother's will years ago. The will not only entrusted her with the Miburo's leadership, but with his beloved katana as well. Clutching this weapon with both hands, Natsuki examined the blade itself. Engraved onto the right side of the steel near the hilt, was a wolf of silver. "Duran," she spoke softly, "that is your name now." Satisfied with the decided name of her heirloom, Natsuki sheathed Duran and donned the navy blue case between her
waist and tsuba just as a real warrior would. Along with a longbow and arrow, a wooden staff, a pouch of coin and the clothes on her back, Natsuki took one last look at the Kuga estate before turning away...It was veiled by steady streams of rain, the shadow cast figure of the frame haunted the girl as if the shadows were her own. "I'M never coming back," she stated coldly as she turned to leave, "A samurai will return in her stead." She pushed open the dampened wide double doors of the estate entrance, leaving the residence wide open in sight.
"Goodbye Mother."
Soaked already from head to toe, Natsuki trailed down the mud ridden path towards the edge of town, bordering the forests. She had decided early on to avoid the main roads due to the locals that might recognize her, possibly trailing her as she left, for she was not allowed to leave the city of Mibu. Shuffling quietly in the dark, she had neared a grassy clearing overlooking the wooded area, full of gargantuan trees.
Natsuki gripped the woven hilt of the katana, seeking security and comfort. She spoke to it softly under trembling breaths, gazing into the image of the wolf, "Why am I so afraid, Duran?"
To have the steel blade at her side put her troubled thoughts somewhat at ease for the moment, treading calmly but cautiously through the forest floor, leaving the brief snapping and crackings of foliage and leaves beneath her scandals. The young warrior hacked through thorny vines and small branches that blocked her undesignated path ahead. The only motivation Natsuki had was the stinging words from her mother Saeko, followed by the stings and nicks from the spiny thorns, angering the wolf until all that remained was aimless fury. Bearing her fangs, Duran was now pointed towards the overgrowth. Thunder rolled with a bellowing boom as lightning gave way to heavier rain, penetrating the treetop canopies overhead. The dripping wet wolf continued on despite slipping through the mud that softened from the precipitation, nearly spraining one of her ankles. She had hacked her way to a ravine providing a large clearing, with a murky, snake-infested river lurking below, fully visible. Despite her determination and drive, the rain wasn't going to give way, and the mud that lined the ravine was not ideal for climbing either. "Shit!" The girl yelled aloud as she kicked a nearby tree, in turn, driving a wave of throbbing pain through her toes and foot. "DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT!" she scorned, hopping on her other leg as she held her foot in anguish.
Natsuki had decided, faced with the dangerous impasse, that she would back-track her path and set up camp for the night, tending to her self-inflicted injury. "I picked the wrong time to leave home," she whined to herself. She held a bundle of leaves over her head as she sat, soaked underneath a large tree. "This is gonna be a LONG night," the wolf girl sighed. With all of her focus, the girl closed her eyes and gradually drifted off into slumber.
[*Miburo: A group of samurai/Ronin: wandering samurai who opposed the Ishin Shishi during the Boshin Wars and Kyoto Revolution. They hail from the city of Mibu, originally known as the Roshigumi. They later formed a group in Kyoto, Japan known as the Shinsengumi, AKA The Wolves of Mibu.]
Chapter 3: Obstacles and A Liability
"Excuse me...sir?" Interrupted from her reflection, the assassin looked up to find a waitress standing before her, carrying an oval tray. "Oh. Sorry about that, I must've zoned out." She looked up at the woman who smiled warmly at her, oblivious that she was the source of the blood curdling scream
everyone there had heard prior. "I'll have some sake...Leave the bottle, if you would," stated the killer politely, returning the smile with a lazy smirk. "S-sure thing, I'll be back in a moment," stuttered the waitress as she paused before turning to leave, her gaze meeting the assassin's. Her sharp red eyes softened the assassin's stone expression, turning the rehearsed smirk into a look of awe. She had never in her life seen eyes like those before. Eyes of a demon, of lust and carnal desire. Yet there was a glimmer of kindness there, small but genuine. Her light, sun-kissed chestnut hair was put in a braid that dangled from her shoulder, her skin pale very much like her own, but with a sort of radiance. The girl's burning crimson eyes clashed with the killer's jade, both unable to break this staring stalemate. The color brought a chill down the murderer's spine, though she had seen the color sprayed and spewed countless times before. This was the first time-
The assassin, in an attempt to avert her focus from the woman's red rubies, began to direct her attention south. Sly emeralds traced her slender, yet curvy figure with her eyes for a few seconds, admiring her physical beauty.
"Ara?...Is there anything else you need? she asked, tilting her head to one side with a giggle.
"No thanks, just the sake," she replied, this time repaying the waitresses a kind smile in full, grinning from ear to ear. The waitress beamed, her face reddened as she turned to leave. She watched the blonde from behind as she quickly walked away, taking another drag from her cigarette.
"Ara?...What the hell is that supposed to mean?...It's kind of cute though."
Returning her attention to the window once more, Natsuki scolded herself within her thoughts, "What the fuck are you doing?! IDIOT!" She knew that what she had been doing for the past few years was wrong, but for a woman to yearn for another...that was an even greater sin. Holding her face in her hands, a sigh of frustration and smoke passing through her lips, she took one final drag of the tobacco before putting it out on a ceramic dish. As her focusing gaze was drawn to the smoldering ember and flickering of ash as the cherry went out, she was interrupted once again. "Ara, here you are sir." softly spoken in the local Kyoto-ben. The waitress set the bottle and a small cup of clay from her oval tray to the table with another smile, "Enjoy". The killer lifted her head from the table, reaching for the bottle eagerly. "Wait, I'll serve you." beckoned the waitress as she wrapped her ivory fingers around the bottle, brushing gently against the assassin's. At that moment a brief warmth was shared between the two, and pause between their reactions before the warrior surrendered the bottle into the woman's servile hands. She watched as her liquor trickled down into the cup, where it was then slid in front of her. The blunette lapped it up eagerly, looking up at the busty waitress with an emptied cup, the strong odor of the drink trailing on her breath. "I can pour the rest myself, thank you miss." The blonde nodded turning away, leaving the brooding warrior to "his" liquor as she disappeared, swallowed up by the large crowd of customers and residents.
The killer looked down at her freshly poured beverage, gazing at the distorted image of herself reflected by the liquor. She tried to remember what her superiors wanted her to do for her next assignment, or rather WHO to KILL next. Much to the wolf's discomfort, the evasive event that happened just moments ago, still lie fresh in her mind. "The 'Ara Girl's' hand...was WARM." Warmth-a word said with such fondness, for all the wolf Natsuki knew was the cold, her heart frozen in amidst a bitter winter called war. What bothered her the most: she had no idea who this woman was. Defeated by this simple, new-found sensation the wolf gave up the hunt within herself for extra ambition, the taint of crimson eyes corrupting her thoughts. The warrior sat there content and silent for the time being, sipping her liquor throughout the night until daylight broke in through the window beside her. She left a generous handful of coin for the captivating 'Ara girl', before scanning the vacant restaurant in hopes to at least catch a glimpse of the waitress before leaving. Disappointed, the quiet killer left and stumbled down the crimson stained streets that she had just bloodied the night before. The undiscovered scene was still visible, hauntingly reminding the warrior of the woman's eyes who made that same color beautiful.
'IT'S MY MONEY, BITCH!" A short, yet stout middle-aged man bellowed, "I OWN YOU, Shizuru! NOTHING HERE IS YOURS!" his nostrils flaring, and skin glowing red with drink and anger. The waitress stood there, looming over him in a mixture of fear and hate as her boss grabbed a greedy handful of her tip, all but a single coin. "THIS is yours! That's about how much I BOUGHT you for, anyway!" pointing to the lone gold piece on the table. "But...I earned it," the woman thought to herself as she let out a sigh."NOW GET BACK TO WORK OR I'LL SELL YOU BACK TO THE SLAVERS!" the man shouted before heading for the exit. "Y-yes Mr. Ishida," the waitress replied softly.
Shizuru quickly and obediently pocketed the coin, and returned to her duties. She filled a bucket full of water from the well behind the restaurant and began to mop the floors without a word. "That's what I thought," stated the boss man as he happily trotted out the door with a pocketful of coin. This dispute did not go unnoticed, however when the lone samurai from last night barged in, out of breath. "Is everything okay? I was just down the street when I heard some commotion," the blunette explained. Shocked by the sudden intrusion, the alarmed waitress dropped the mop and turned her head quickly. "..N-no sir, everything's fine," she replied blushing. "Wait...you're the man from last night. Ara, back for more sake already?" teased the woman playfully as she stood to wipe off her dirtied apron. "No, I just-"
"Come on now, don't be so shy," the Ara girl interrupted, motioning the breathless samurai to sit.
"I'm serious. I thought you might've gotten hurt," Natsuki stated bluntly, fighting off a blush in her cheeks. "Ara, so you were worried about me?" inquired the Kyoto woman as she wandered behind the counter, grabbing a bottle. "N-I..what is your name?" slipped the wolf in black, "How could...I worry about a stranger?"
Damn it...Why did I say that? It just spilled out!
The waitress seemed amused by this, a smirk formed at the corner of her mouth. She looked down at the seated Natsuki with those piercing crimson orbs, seeing everything. "Since you care enough to come running to my aid, noble sir knight I'll tell you. Its Shizuru Fujino," she jokingly got on one knee placing her hand on her ample chest, the other outreached to her 'rescuer.' "and what do I call my valiant prince in shining armor?" Emerald once again made contact with red, the green glaring back into Shizuru's crimson. The jest had annoyed Natsuki slightly. But in a good way..."Its Natsuki, Natsuki Kuga," she replied, arms crossed and face flushed.
"So where'd you come from Kuga?" Shizuru asked simultaneously, pouring the knight a drink. Natsuki dwelled on the question for a moment, shifting her eyes trying to figure out which city she wanted to be from. "Uh...Osa-"
"LIE!" shouted the Kyoto woman with a loud smack on the table top, startling Natsuki. "Wha-what was that for?! I was trying to tell you-"
"-You were trying to LIE to me, Natsuki Kuga. Friends don't lie to each other!"
The wolf sat puzzled for a while, watching as Shizuru squirmed with impatience where she stood. "We're...friends? But we just met!?" The hurt waitress crossed her arms as well in protest, quickly facing away from Natsuki. "Well we COULD be friends if you'd be honest with me here," she mumbled. "FINE, Fujino have it your way!" the wolf replied, "I'm from Mibu, born and raised there."
Shizuru's eyes grew wide, the bottle nearly slipping from her hands. She gazed down once more at Natsuki.
"What? Do you not want to be friends anymore? Is it because I work for the big bad Shinsengumi?" said the wolf with a cold smirk, "Shizuru?"
The Kyoto woman nearly collapsed as Natsuki leaped from her seat to catch her mid-fall. "I'm sorry...Did I scare you?"
"Kannin-na, Kuga I didn't mean to worry you. I just felt so lightheaded all the sudden, must've been from the whole 'Shinsengumi' thing."
"Haha, I often forget this is not wolf territory. This is Kyoto, after all. Damned Imperialist-" The samurai's heated words were intercepted by an even hotter kiss to the lips. "Mmmh?!"
Shizuru deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around the warrior's neck. Natsuki lost herself in the moment, doing so by permitting the woman's tongue into her mouth. Just as things were getting steamy between the merged women, Shizuru pulled away suddenly. She wiped the wet kiss from her lips with her kimono sleeve, crimson eyes blazing. "Shut up."
The sun broke in through the trees, the remains of the storm formed on the grass in dew. The dreaming Natsuki stumbled to her feet in a daze. Her clothes were mostly dry now, thanks to the morning heat. She could not remember what she drempt of the night before, all that lingered was the color red in her recollections. "Red?...I like blue much better," the wolf inwardly protested as she headed back to the ravine. When she neared its edge, she noticed that the mud had not yet dried to the point of safe crossing. The earth beneath her was still slippery, as well a sign in itself that attempts to cross this river were futile. "Guess I'll just go around", stated an annoyed Natsuki as she proceeded to walk alongside the ravine's edge with Duran in her hands. She traveled alongside it for a time, scanning her surroundings for any signs of a bridge or the means to safely climb across.
Long ago, her brother had wrote in a letter he had to cross a ravine from a nearby forest in order to travel to Kyoto undetected, back when he had first formed the Miburo. He and his men were fleeing from Imperialist soldiers and their supporters, unable to hide in Mibu any longer. Natsuki had remembered this tale, assuring herself that this particular ravine was the very one her late brother had crossed years ago, successfully escaping the city into Kyoto.
Hours passed, and the wolf's legs grew weary. A great thirst arose from her throat, demanding that she stop for a drink.
[To be continued...]