15 January 1837, outside of Edo, Japan
She notched the arrow over her head, pushing the bow forward and the string back until it lined with her eye. Archery had become music to her. It sang a very special song that she wanted so greatly to master.
The doe walked on the forest's edge, perfectly in her intended path. One good shot could provide her family good food for a few days, but the shot mattered more than the food. Her breathing paused to steady her aim. All that remained was to trust the arrow's flight.
The string loosed from her fingertips. It strummed a deep note that no musical instrument could produce: risk. Her heart started again, but her breath held while the arrow whistled through the sky. The target dug a hoof into the snow, unaware that it would not need to eat again.
Her arrow smashed against a tree near its target. Even from this distance, the girl could hear the sour note in the archer's song. The doe's head snapped up to face the hunter and her brother. She reached to her quiver for a second shot, but her target had already begun bouncing into the forest.
Its white rump taunted her. She shot another arrow to stop it, but this one did not hit anything nearby. Then she heard the note from a different bow and the doe stumbled.
She glanced at her brother. He had played the third note. His left hand already hovered over his quiver, ready to nock again if necessary.
He turned his gaze from the hunt to his younger sister, "You're getting better, Asuka."
"But I didn't hit it."
"Your technique is good. Just learn to make your second shot better than your first."
"The first shot is the one that matters."
"Hai {yes}, it is, and a second shot is always a blessing. Do not let it go to waste," he pulled his bow around his torso and spurred his horse, "Let's get your deer. Iku-zo {Let's go}!"
Asuka whipped her reins and followed down the hill to the trees. Not more than a few minutes ride into the forest, her brother had stopped over a fallen doe. The arrow in its back indicated the kill to be his. She slowed her horse and rode around it before climbing off.
The doe's chest heaved in and out, staining the snow red with more blood from every breath. Asuka's brother dismounted his horse and kneeled over the kill. Its eye was careful on the archers, but it did not struggle against its quickened fate. A blade extended from beneath his wrist and into the doe's neck.
"Aren't you going to say something?" he asked his sister.
Asuka reached to the animal's eye and closed it, "Your fear has ended. May you now know peace."
Her brother smiled, "And now we go home. Maybe soon you can start shooting while riding."
She nodded silently. Her hands grasped the doe's forelegs, but her brother stopped her. His reasoning was likely simple enough. "Because I'm a girl?" she accused.
"Because you're twelve," he heaved the kill over his shoulder, "You could pull a muscle in your back and then you couldn't shoot at all."
The doe was hung over the back of his horse. While their family actively encouraged teaching her to hunt, it was still not socially acceptable. The siblings mounted their steeds and proceeded back to Edo.
Asuka held her silence as they rode into the city. As badly as she wanted to discuss her training, her family had forbidden her to publicly speak of any combat training beyond the naginata, which she had yet to practice. She got enough strange looks from the street for riding a horse while being a girl.
She never could get the kind of attention she truly desired. Everyone seemed to want to chastise her for her 'masculinity.' That was all well and good, but sometimes she wanted to prove herself with a good fight.
Amidst the crowds of Edo, Asuka spied a textile merchant -probably an apprentice if his lack of a short sword was any indication- chatting with a girl at his booth. He wasn't drawing any attention to the kimono he was selling, so it seemed safe to assume that he was flirting with her. Asuka wondered if anyone would ever flirt with her like that. Perhaps a man like him would be undesirable, but she could not resist a strong samurai.
Nearing the great bronze dragon gates of the noble Yamanote district, Asuka saw people arguing by food booths. Many of them had next to no groceries up for sale. Some people did not seem to take kindly to that. Certainly some food was available on their wares, so it seemed odd that it would not just be given away. She was glad she never needed to worry about being short on food. Her family provided the goings-in and comings-out of the daimyo's tables, so food was never scarce.
Upon arriving home, they were approached by an unfamiliar man on a horse of his own. His topknot and shaven scalp indicated him to be a samurai. "Pardon," he asked her brother, "Are you Kasai Satō?"
"I'm his son, Ryōma, but I'll accept he compliment. May I ask who wants to speak with him?"
"Ah! Ryōma and Asuka! I haven't seen you since she was as tall as my knee," the man bowed on his horse, "It's astounding how much the two of you take after your father."
Asuka wondered how important this man thought he was if he hadn't been in her life for such a long time. Still, he had the pointed nose of the Kasai clan. His chin tapered off from an otherwise very round face, which Asuka and Ryōma both inherited from their father. Perhaps he was a distant relative of sorts.
"I thought you looked familiar. How long has it been?" Ryōma's face came alight.
"Some ten years, I think. Is your father home? I need to speak with him."
"Hai, he's inside. If you wait here a moment, I can retrieve him for you."
"Arigato {thank you}."
"Asuka, iku-ze," Ryōma led into the stables around their home.
"Who is he?" Asuka asked.
"Someone father knows, probably a relative," he dismounted his horse upon entering the stable, "But I think he may have been calling you a boy."
"He could have been calling you a girl," Asuka hopped to the ground and guided her horse into its pen.
"I would rather not think about that one. Here, could you take my weapons in after you get the horses tied? And be careful with Tsuito Shiyounin."
Asuka stepped out of her pen to see Ryōma offering his longsword in its sheath. She enthusiastically snatched it from his hand. Her brother only ever allowed her to hold them when she was putting them away. It was significantly heavier than the glorified bamboo stick she used to practice. A naginata would be coming her way in about a year, but she didn't want that. This hallowed blade was allegedly forged by the famed mad smith Muramasa for a distant Kasai ancestor.
"Don't forget my bow or quiver."
"Where are they?" Asuka continued to stare at the sword.
"Right here. I'm going to fetch father for our new cousin," Ryōma set down his bow and quiver with a smile, "Maybe I'll learn his name."
He kept his short sword, Haageshi Shiyounin, at his own side whenever he went indoors. Asuka never even had an opportunity to hold that one. Father always said the swords were siblings, like the sun and moon.
Tsuito. According to their father, this one could only be drawn with the intention of defending someone. Despite constantly asking, Asuka never learned how her father or brother knew that. Perhaps it was their intention to remain true to the legend, but she had never seen it unsheathed.
Haageshi was the night to Tsuito's day. She had heard word that it could always be drawn, but could only be sheathed after taking a life. Asuka always found that mystery alluring.
As her brother left for the house, Asuka stuffed Tsuito Shiyounin and its sheath into her belt. She gripped the hilt to draw it, but paused. This was an important weapon; too important for play. There were no lives to take, so she released it. Asuka closed the stable doors and grabbed the bow and quiver, now carrying two of each.
She walked into her house, where the armory awaited the return of the family weapons. Apparently, that was not the only thing waiting for her. A woman stood with her back to the door. Her hair was tied up into massive rolls, not unlike a geisha. This woman wore a sky blue kimono adorned with images of gold flowers. From her belt hung a large black folded cloth patterned with images of a four-petaled flower. Asuka knew this to be one of the signs Christians would use to identify one another with discretion. That meant she could only be one person.
"Nariko?" Asuka approached, "How long has it been?"
"About nine months," Nariko whispered as she turned herself about, "But please keep quiet. We don't want to wake him."
Asuka's eyes might have doubled in size, "I'm an aunt?"
That was obvious enough. Asuka's father had kept the family mostly up to date with the stories of his youngest sister's pregnancy. The typical winter food shortages had taken up most of his time, but that didn't lessen Asuka's excitement. After all, Nariko's age was closer to her niece than her brother, which made her Asuka's nearest approximation of a sister.
"I would say you're a cousin again," Nariko could not hold down her smile.
Asuka got closer to the baby in her aunt's arms, "What's his name?"
"Kazuma."
The girl's mouth hung in wonder. She had seen babies before. Some of them had even been her own family. This one was no different -round, soft, and full of potential- but had all the difference in the world. He was huddled so peacefully in the warmth of his mother's silk swaddling. Very small puffs of steam rose from his tiny mouth. Asuka could imagine herself ignoring this winter's bitter cold as much as baby Kazuma melted her inside.
"You look like you should be busy," Nariko raised her child a bit higher, "You can play with him when we wakes up."
"Arigato, oba-san," Asuka left the new mother and her child to their own devices and proceeded up the stairs. She was meant to train more today, but those plans could possibly have been put on hold. Perhaps after putting the weapons away, she could practice a few hundred sword swings until Kazuma woke.
"Oh, Asuka," Nariko whispered loudly.
"Hai?"
"Your mother is not doing well," Nariko could not bring herself to frown with Kazuma in her arms, "Keep quiet for her sake as well."
Asuka nodded and proceeded up the stairs. Nariko didn't need to remind her of her mother's illness. After a few years of bouts with constant heartburn, starvation, and nausea, it was no secret that the Kasai matriarch was sick. It was a most unfortunate situation, but Asuka knew she could power through it. The Kasai family was once much wealthier, but their time and money spent on bringing in the best physicians from Nagasaki had drained their coin strings. All of that money had to be worth something. Mother would get better some time soon.
Asuka hung the bows on the wall. The fact that they were much taller than anyone in the Kasai household never ceased to amaze her. In fact, she had maybe only seen a single man as tall as a bow, and he became a sumo who died of a heart attack before he was 25.
Across the room awaited the three sword racks, where a single long sword sat lonely while the owners' short swords were carried in the house. They would not reunite with their sister swords until the night, when they were not of use.
The second sword rack sat completely barren. It was no mystery who owned it. Asuka was as reluctant to return the sword as it was to take a life... or so she heard. Once it was put away, Asuka marveled at Tsuito Shiyounin's beauty. Their father's sword was significantly less impressive, being younger than the man's own daughter.
The third rack supported a pair of bamboo training swords. The implications of their existence made her truly excited for the future. If she wanted to be ready for the day she received her first swords, she needed to be proficient with the weapons first.
She grabbed the long sword-like training stick. Its bamboo grip had been worn smooth through months of striking at dummies and her master. While it did serve to practice her hand, she despised how its existence reminded her of the sword she did not own.
Nariko said she would be up whenever Kazuma woke, which was gave plenty of time. Her sword sensei did not appear to be in the armory as usual, so it seemed safe to assume that he was speaking with father. As long as Asuka had time, she could improve. Her legs sunk into a deep stance while her arms readied for imaginary combat.
Voices caught her attention across the hall. Men were discussing something in her father's room. She ignored them. Practice makes perfect. She began with her horizontal swing. The voices unknowingly beckoned her. She ignored them for a hundred-or-so swings.
The voices belonged to her father and the stranger. That seemed a safe enough assumption. Asuka did find it strange that this meeting could not be among the entire family. Without the men of the household anywhere in sight, she pondered what kind of matters they could be discussing. They could be talking about women, maybe making offensive jokes. As much as she hated to admit it, the girl always enjoyed that kind of humor, if only because she knew that she defied it with her own life.
After a few minutes, Asuka put down her 'sword'. Her arms were not yet near tired, but curiosity itched too greatly at her mind. The muffled voices across the hall were too diverse. All of these men had gathered into one place for a reason.
She crossed the hall and pressed he ear to the door of her father's room.
"You are asking me to starve my clients," a deep voice said with concern. She knew this man to be her father. "Men with military power."
"Hai," an unrecognized voice -probably the stranger's- answered, "They need to know that they can no longer live off of the people's starvation."
"And that the Kirishitan {Christians} have had enough persecution," said another, very tense voice. It must have belonged to Nariko's husband Junichiro. He was always such a skittish man.
"You have the Asashin {Assassins}," Ryōma spoke up, "I will fight for you."
"Ryōma wait," his father cautioned, "I cannot afford this. You know how times have been since the famine. Even we have needed to make sacrifices."
"Otōsan {Father}, the people below us are starving and we can help them. Tokugawa pays us to feed his daimyo {lords}. We can put that to something good for once."
"Ryōma-"
"We are Asashin. We have a duty to the people."
"Kasai-sama," the eternally relaxed voice of master Saidani spoke up, "Your son speaks sense. A daimyo without his people is a madman in a large house."
"Do you remember the fire a few years ago?" Junichiro started, "Or the earthquake in the north? Or the gaijin {foreigners} appearing at our shores? Tokugawa has lost the mandate of heaven. We could be looking at a new sengoku jidai {civil war era}."
"As the sun rose on the Tokugawa, it will surely set on them soon," the stranger said, "You do not want to lose your status by relying on a failing dynasty. The Kasai name has not ruled in the north since the Date came to power. Were it not for the Tokugawa taking you in, your clan would have crumbled hundreds of years ago. This is all you have left, but you can become powerful again. Do not allow Edo castle to crumble over you."
Silence emanated from the meeting. Asuka could hear her own heartbeat.
"Asuka?" a meek voiced whispered from down the hall behind her. It belonged to her mother, who wore her bed sheets like a chopstick stuck in a roll of sushi, "Asuka, what have we discussed?"
The girl moved her head into her forearm and faked a yawn, "I'm just tired, Oka-san {mother}."
"Well if you are not spying on your father again, then you could help me with something."
"Sorry, but I am much too busy spying," Asuka smirked.
"Even better. I left some wagashi {sweets} outside to freeze. Would you mind getting them for me?"
"As a matter of fact, I would mind very much," her ear tried to refocus on the meeting across the wall.
"Such a shame. I wanted to work on making cranes and then show you a new recipe after we ate wagashi."
"What kind of recipe?"
Her mother touched a finger to her own chin, "Oh, I've already forgotten. Maybe if I could eat some wagashi after taking my medicine, I could remember."
"You didn't forget," Asuka accused.
"And you won't get to know."
Asuka leered. Despite being a skeleton wrapped in skin, her mother's mind was as strong as ever and her smirk still preempted her daughter's compliance. She was right, as always. The girl was always eager to taste new foods.
She turned about, but her mother spoke up again, "Do invite Nariko and Kazuma."
"Hai, Oka-san."
The girl felt no true desire to get anything. She only wanted to learn more about the subtleties of the politics being discussed in her father's room. They did seem to be conncerned about the fate of the Kasai clan, and she rather did enjoy being a Kasai. Still, her mother's wishes could not be ignored.
Asuka continued down the stairs and to the main room, where Nariko cradled her son near the fire pit. The girl approached them to see part of Nariko's kimono was pulled to the right so Kazuma could feed.
"Oh, he's awake," Asuka commented with enthusiasm.
"So is Mieko-san," Nariko answered, her eyes never moving from her baby.
Asuka stopped. She didn't remember hearing anyone cry while she was upstairs. She also knew there was no way that Nariko could have heard that conversation from down here. Then she remembered her aunt always had very gifted senses, "Of course you'd know that."
"I also know about the conspiracy," her eyes showed a serious concern.
"Yeah."
"Asuka, Heihachirō-san is right."
"Who is Heihachirō-san?" the girl asked.
"He's our cousin from the distant land of Osaka."
"Oh, that makes sense, I suppose," Asuka had figured out that the stranger was a relative, but was now more interested in their conspiracy.
"If it makes you feel better, I've only met him twice myself."
"It makes more sense."
"I can't speak for what kind of man he is, but he seems to be on friendly terms with the common people," Nariko said.
"Even the hinin {non-humans}?"
Nariko cast an offended glare up to her niece, "Hai, even us."
Asuka found herself now remembering that geisha were outcasts. While Nariko had married herself back into the samurai class, she had a lingering fondness for the ways of the geisha. Rumors even circulated that Nariko would visit her old geisha house and pay just to spend more time with her old friends. Whether or not that was true, it was a very admirable type of camaraderie that Asuka wished to have one day.
"I apologize for my rudeness," Asuka bowed. Despite the fact that Nariko was technically her inferior and therefore did not require any apology, the girl was embarrassed by her behavior.
"Think nothing of it," Nariko returned her attention to Kazuma.
"I was going to step outside to get some frozen wagashi."
"And Mieko-san invited me upstairs."
"Hai."
"Don't worry, I heard her. I was hoping to stay here with the fire, but Kazuma should be okay upstairs."
27 February 1837, in Edo, Japan
"And twenty," master Saidani tucked the bokken into his belt and bowed to his pupil, "Don't improve too quickly. I would rather not need lessons from you."
Asuka mimicked him and bowed in return. Her arms and torso would feel all twenty strikes for a few days, but she was getting better at handling pain. Hopefully, her master would feel both of the hits she landed on him. They had been practicing with the sword all day. As rare as these days were, they were easily Asuka's favorite. She normally had to practice calligraphy and condition her stamina and study history and practice poetry and continue a very tedious routine from dusk to dawn. It was nice to devote a whole day exclusively to swordsmanship.
"Tomorrow, I'm going for three," she told him.
"If you can power through the pain, then-"
The armory door came open. Asuka's father stood there with fear carved deep into his face, "Asuka, get ready. We're moving to Nagasaki. Now."
"What happened?" Saidani asked.
"It's Ryōma. His rebellion failed."
Asuka's heart dropped, "Is he-?"
"He's okay, but we need to meet him in Nagasaki. They know it was us, so we don't have any time. Saidani-san," he bowed, "Thank you for your contribution to this family, but I can never see you again. It has been an honor. Asuka," he gestured her out of the armory, "Come, let's get you packed."
Panicked, Asuka followed her father out the door and to her room, "Otōsan, what's going to happen?"
"It's going to be okay. We're going to have a new life in Chuugoku {China}. You know how you've always wanted to go there."
Asuka did not know that, but she had no intention to argue with her father right now. He stopped at her bedroom door and slid it open. "Take what you can carry, then get your mother and go to the carriage. I'm going back to the armory."
He disappeared before Asuka could tell him what she wanted to say. Inside were paintings and paper lamps she thought she would keep forever. She frankly never cared for any of these childish things. The posters, makeup, and musical instruments were of little importance to he girl who found greater thrill in the ways of the samurai.
Then she remembered it. There was a single scroll she wanted to keep that had been stashed under her table. She pulled one out, but it was not right. She grasped another, but it was again wrong. Frantically, she scoured the handles of the scrolls, even unrolling some to see if they were right. None were.
"Asuka, what's wrong?"
The girl glanced over her shoulder. Her mother stood in the doorway, looking sickly as usual. Asuka immediately attempted to compose herself. It was not for her own sake, but for the fear that too much worry could physically break the woman.
"Your father is … well, he's not acting right."
She hesitated a moment to gather just the right words, "Otō-san says we'll see him in Nagasaki."
"Nagasaki," dread pressed her mother's gaze to the floor, "Not Ryōma," she partially collapsed against the doorway as her hand covered her mouth, "Tell me he's okay."
As much as Asuka wanted to break down with her mother, she remembered what she had been taught about the virtues of maintaining a level head, "Otō-san says he's fine. Have you seen my kendo {swordsmanship} scroll?"
"Did he say anything else?"
"Mieko! Asuka!" her father called out, "There's no time! Iku-ze!"
Asuka bolted to her feet and supported her mother. Her scroll was just lost. Nothing more could be done for it. They followed him through the hallway and down the stairs. Asuka observed that he was carrying his bow, quiver, and swords as well as a pole sword.
She knew it was for her. The pole sword was considered the second weapon for a samurai and the first for a woman. The only other socially acceptable weapon for a woman to carry was a small dagger, which Asuka always kept on her person, regardless of the situation.
Soon enough, they were in the courtyard. Their carriage was already hitched to the horses. The rider sat ready with his hands on the reins. Asuka felt his eyes cast a judgmental glare upon the Kasai clan as they cast their weapons into their sudden salvation.
"Asuka!" master Saidani yelled from the house.
She turned about and spotted a scroll flying from him. Her hands followed its trajectory and snapped together around it. Written on the scroll's reverse was the word 'tōzai-ryū,' her family's own ancestral sword style. Asuka beamed to her master before getting yanked into the carriage.
There were four seats inside, but one was filled with weapons. Asuka sat across from these weapons, with the pole sword positioned notably not tangled with the bow or quiver. Her father sat beside them, with his swords by the door. Her mother's hands were clasped tightly together. Her husband reached across to her and touched her fingers with his own.
"Satō," her mother whispered, "I need my medicine."
"We can get more. I promise," he gingerly kissed her forehead, "We have money."
The carriage started forward into the heart of Edo. That was when it struck Asuka that this was real. Ryōma and the rest of the Kasai may not survive this. She looked up to her parents and wondered if she would be with them by morning.
As much as they provided for her, she was confident in her survival skills. Her skills with the bow had been improving and she could easily kill a deer or something else to eat. From there, finding her way to Nagasaki and Ryōma would be simple.
"Asuka," her mother said, "Do you have your clothes?"
The girl did not remember getting her clothes. She looked around the cramped innards of the carriage, squirming her own wiry body to find some crevice in which her clothes may magically appear. No such luck. the clothes she had forgotten would need to stay gone. Asuka looked to her father for some kind of reassurance.
He patted her head, "Don't worry. We can buy more of those too."
"Satō," her mother begged, "Satō, please tell me you brought enough."
"I brought forty ryō," he patted the belly of his kimono, which made a clinking sound, "That will be enough for us."
"Are you sure?"
"Ten will buy you a sword. They won't even care that you're women."
Asuka found that idea to be comforting. She had always wanted a sword, but was still disappointed that it would not be her brother's Muramasa. Even a sword of the finest make would not match that one, because the mad smith had died so long ago that his swords were incredibly rare. Men like him or even the great Kasai Yuzuru could not exist any longer. Great heroes and acts of bushido had died when this government ended a century of civil conflict.
Yet it seemed to be starting again soon. Maybe the legends of old could be given new life. If this riot had any effect, then it could inspire more. People would rise up against the Tokugawa in protest. Uncle Junichiro would be right: the new civil war would come.
The girl peeked from the carriage's grated window. People traversed around them on Edo's streets. There was no way they could know that this carriage housed a noble traitor. There was no way any of them would believe that his allegiance was now to the common men of Japan.
Asuka stood with her back hunched to fit inside such a small carriage. She peered through the filter-like window to see anything up ahead, but saw only crowds and the rear of a horse.
It was when the carriage approached the city gate that Asuka felt it stopping with her heart. She dropped into her seat, knowing that they would soon be inspected by samurai, like every other carriage exiting Edo.
The Kasai all leaned into the center of the carriage together. They could all hear the driver speaking to men with the droning boom of an official's voice. Their unintelligible words still threatened to expose the fugitive family.
"We just need to keep calm," her father consoled, "Don't do anything too interesting."
Her mother whispered back, "Then I hope you have a good reason for all of these weapons, Satō. I doubt they will believe that you are going hunting with your daughter."
Asuka's eyes searched for some inspiration in the carriage. All she saw was a frightened family with more than enough weapons to be formidable to the elderly. Her own training was still insufficient and her mother was too frail to protect anyone.
Then the mesh was suddenly lit by the sun. The girl stopped all thoughts, because this meant the door was now open. Samurai were now inspecting the carriage. She kept facing forward in hopes that she was wrong.
"Kasai-dono," an unfamiliar voice calmly weighed on her misguided optimism, "I have a warrant for your arrest on the charges of treason and conspiracy."
"You must have me confused for someone else-"
"Please do not resist. I have been authorized to take measures I do not wish to take in front of your family. Relinquish your weapons and step out of the carriage."
4 May 1837, at the Kozukappara Execution Ground in Edo, Japan
"I heard that they started the fire in Osaka."
"Somebody told me that they're Kirishitan."
"Treason, they say."
The crowd's whispers rang as harsh as they rang true, not that any of those things could not be justified. They were nearly drowned out by the sound of Asuka's heart thrashing about in her chest. She weaved her slender frame between them, working a path toward the stage, where the execution was to take place.
A single samurai stood upon the stage with a bundle of scrolls. at his rear sat a collection of others, whispering between themselves. The mural behind them shifted open, freezing Asuka where she stood. The first victim to step out walked with his head high. Her heart fell into her stomach. She knew her father even from across the grounds. His white kimono hung around his waist, baring his chest to the world. He walked to the right side of the stage and sat upon his knees. A samurai bent onto one knee with a bare sword held over her father's shoulder.
He heaved a great sigh then announced, "I conspired with others to work against the bakufu {government}," he was clearly choking on his shame, "In these hard times, that is unforgivable. It is under this charge I cut my belly to restore the honor of the Kasai clan. It is my honor and my request that you all witness this act."
Asuka felt the world stop around her. Her father reached for the dagger that had been prepared before him. She wanted for him to stop. He had confessed. Surely that would be enough. He had no need to restore his honor by suicide.
The moment her father hand touched the dagger, his executioner snapped to his feet. His sword flashed in the air. A dull sound thumped the stage. Blood sprayed onto the crowd. The body of the Kasai patriarch fell away from his head, leaving the dagger untouched. That was not honorable.
The girl shrieked and shoved the nearest person who impeded her from the stage. She tried to clear herself a path through the people whose existence prevented her from stopping this disgrace. When she moved one, another person's back waited to impede her further. Her flailing and screaming did nothing to speed her advance through this forest of bodies.
Uncle Junichiro was next. He kissed his rosary and said his speech. Asuka could not hear him over herself, but it did not matter. He was interrupted by the flash of his executioner's sword. His head also rolled. His death was also shamed.
She shut her eyes and powered through more onlookers. She knew Ryōma was next. She knew he would be dishonored. She never wanted more to be wrong, but a single word stopped her: "Asuka." The girl was frozen by that word. Ryōma sat on the stage now with his chest bare. Behind him was a massive samurai, possibly the largest man in Japan. On one knee, he was as tall as the witness who stood beside him.
"and for the citizens of Osaka and Edo and all of our islands. You are all the victims of this famine. I only ask that you be given greater mercy than has been given to us."
The giant's sword flashed. Ryōma's head folded into his chest. Asuka could hear the blood splash onto onto the stage. His body toppled.
The girl could not move. Her eyes refused to accept what they had just witnessed, but the evidence was too strong. She could only stare on at the bodies that had been three brave men only moments ago. Now they were naught but three humiliated corpses. It did not make any sense. No world could be for her without her family.
Tears built in her eyes, but Asuka did not cry. Crying would be a selfish act, even if it could relieve her emptiness. Nothing could relieve this but the comfort that could only be felt upon realizing that a nightmare had occurred in the realm of dreams. She needed so badly for it to be a nightmare.
Millions of thoughts and questions stormed in her head. How could this happen to her? How did this happen to her? What could she have done to stop it? How did she not stop it? could this be some twisted joke? What would she do now? What of her mother? What of when she woke from this?
Somewhere in her head, Asuka knew that she would never wake from this. She was listening to a very small whisper from her imagination. Her senses had never betrayed her before and yet they spoke the loudest. She only wanted it to stop.
It must have been a particularly vicious joke. This could never have happened to the Kasai. They were too important to the aristocracy. Even if they had betrayed the shogunate, they would have been given some leniency or at least a respectable suicide.
"Asuka," a hand touched her shoulder.
She knew someone had come for her. Probably to kill her. It was understandable. A traitor's family received a traitor's punishment. She could have stopped the conspiracy. That concept was not lost on her.
"Asuka-kun," the voice belonged to her sensei who now knelt before her, "I know how you feel."
He was lying. He was wrong. No one could know.
"Asuka-kun, everyone else has left. We need to get you ready."
She had not been aware of that, but he was right. The execution grounds had emptied while she drowned in the tears she had not shed. The samurai on the stage had left. Only a few outcasts had remained to clean the stage and remove the bodies of her father, brother, and uncle.
"Asuka-kun, we can discuss this on the way to your house."
Her eyes lowered to the stones below them and her hand pressed over her mouth. The pressure she withheld in herself was building. She felt a tear leaking from the corner of her eye.
She knew that master Saidani could not see her in such a pitiful state. Samurai never wept. If her training demanded such stoicism, then she would prove herself. Master Saidani could only be feeling disappointment toward his pupil.
Then a man stepped onto the lonely stage and Asuka's tears dried for a moment, if only to watch him. He was clad in black, with a mask that covered his mouth, no doubt an outcast. What she found most menacing was the glimmering cleaver he carried in his hand. Asuka felt her heart hammering against her ribs with his every step. It stopped when he approached Ryōma.
"Don't," Asuka whispered to him in vain, "Please."
Her eyes fixated on the blade. She knew what was coming and her eye had fixated on his blade. He raised it over his head.
"Stop," she whispered again, unsure if she even made a sound.
It came down, through the bit of flesh that held her brother's neck to his body as well as his last shreds of honor. Asuka released a high-pitch roar. She charged to the stage, ready to stop this sub-human in whatever way she could.
Something stopped her. A pair of arms had wrapped around her. She kicked behind herself and thrashed her arms, shouting and shrieking against her master. Through the curtain of tears, the outcast was continuing to disgrace her family by touching their heads.
"Hanase {release me}!" the girl shouted. Her frenzy was making her no progress. She grabbed the arm that restrained her chest and bit. Though she could feel his bones between her teeth, she only had a mouthful of silk.
"Asuka!"
She froze. Beyond her tears, the outcast collected the heads by their topknots with his filthy tainted hands. This could not be allowed, but master Saidani had been resisting her. Asuka tried to understand, but this was wrong. This was a mockery in the face of everything she knew about tradition and religion and bushido.
"Asuka-kun, it's over," master Saidani lied. She could see the injustice continuing on that stage.
"I need to stop him," she whimpered.
"The damage is done. We need to leave."
He had clearly resolved not to take any action. Asuka knew arguing with her master was pointless. The girl pushed a shoulder against his grip, but he was too strong. She pushed again from the other side. He may have loosened a bit. Her shrugging became stronger and more frequent, but he held tighter.
"Just let me go!" Asuka cried.
Master Saidani did not answer with words, but grabbed her arms and jerked her about. His eyes locked into hers as she stood paralyzed by some unknown force. She never wanted him to see her tears.
"Asuka-kun," he suddenly embraced her from the front, "It will be okay. I promise."
She did not want to be held by a liar or anyone complicit to this sacrilege. Saidani was both. If he would not allow her to seek justice here, she needed to escape.
Her hands shoved against his belly, pushing her out of his grip. He tried to grab her again, but she ducked under his grip and fled to the exit.
6 May 1837, in Edo, Japan
Asuka sat upon the branches of the sakura tree. From there, she had been watching her house across the river. Happiness did not live there any longer. Its ghost haunted the place through relics of a better time. Her every part wanted to haunt with those memories, but that was a ridiculous notion. Her father and Ryōma would not be there. Not even Junichiro could be there to ease the pain.
From where she was, she had observed her mother searching the premises for her all morning. It was obvious why, but Asuka could not bring herself bear it. Two coffins sat covered beside the stable. The candles from the previous night's wake had all melted around them. She had refused to attend that. It was preferable to merely watch from a distance while her mother mourned under her veil.
"Come down from there, saru-kun {little monkey}," master Saidani called up to her.
"I'm not going," Asuka answered.
"Asuka-kun, you can't miss the funeral."
"Watch me."
"Come down. They wouldn't want you to miss it."
"If I wanted to some priest to read while they burn," she felt the words pressing in her throat, "and then tell me what will happen to their souls..." her eyes were beginning to leak, "If I wanted that, then I would go, but I don't, so you may leave me."
"You know you're obligated to mourn them."
"No." Ryōma would know what to say right now.
"It's only a for a few days."
"No," she choked.
"Asuka-kun," he reached a hand up to her.
"No!" she swatted him away, "just leave me here."
At any moment soon, Asuka knew she was going to cry. She didn't need him to see that. He would chastise her for being selfish. There was no way that he could understand. All she needed was time alone.
"Asuka-kun-"
"NO!"
"I don't know how you feel," he said correctly, "but I can tell that you're scared. You know someone is going to adopt you and Mieko-san, but I will be there for you. I will help you however I can... You're lucky they didn't have you killed."
"That's not lucky," Asuka could not even say the words aloud, but she sniffed in her tears when she finished. She was willing give anything to fill this emptiness, but that was impossible. Numbing the pain would be good enough. It would need to be good enough.
She broke. For the first time that she could remember, Asuka wept. Numbness filled her face, but her heart still longed to return to the past. Her father's embrace or a kind word from Ryōma or even a prayer from Junichiro would be enough, but none of those existed now. There was only her ill mother and the man who taught her to use a sword. She could not even reprimand Heihachirō, who had brought them and bound their fates together.
"Asuka-kun, at least come for your mother. I can't even tell if she's crying for you or them any more."
The girl's sobs continued, but she did not move. Her mother had Nariko and all of her other sisters-in-law, as well as Saidani. Asuka did not need any of them. She only needed her silence where she could scream within herself.
"Iku zo. I promise it won't take long and you will feel better after."
Instead of answering, she snapped a twig from the tree and hurled it at her teacher.
"Very well," he stepped back, "Asuka-kun, I will make a place for you. Please come when you can."
9 July 1837, in Kameyama, Japan
Asuka ate a pinch of rice. She did not taste it. She could not taste anything since that day. She could not even eat meat without being reminded of them. So much blood.
"Asuka-kun," his voice made her shudder, "Is my flower feeling unwell?"
She moved her eyes up to meet his, carefully keeping her face to the food. He was a minor daimyo, apparently making the fate of the Kasai women a fortunate one. Fortune was difficult to feel these days. For Asuka, fortune would entail a family reunion, but then she would be dead. That would still be better than this life with the Ishikawa family.
"Nagahide," his younger brother chimed from across the dinner table, "The girl is still grieving."
"She's had two months. When our father died, I was back to normal in a week.'"
"Sadness does not come easily to you in the castle."
"Hai, Kurando. I have learned this."
Asuka knew he was wrong. There was no relief; not for good men anyway. She knew that the elder brother was a Daimyo, and therefore had too many obligations to feel any pain beyond himself. In that way, he was not unlike the man she envisioned when her father spoke of getting her married. His younger brother, however, was much more the kind of man Asuka wanted.
Kurando was taller than his brother when sitting, despite being the youngest of the three. His face was long like that of a fox, with most of his hair unshaven from the scalp. Flecks of hair defined what was already a slender jaw. He was handsome, but Asuka was more interested in her life than in men right now.
Nagahide was different. For a man in his late twenties, he had too many wrinkles. His nose was big and his face was squat. He carried the appearance of an ogre who took savage bites he was chewing too loudly. After a long delay, he swallowed a particularly difficult chunk of meat, "I need a boy, and you know that."
"You can adopt Yoshimoto's son," Kurando said, "The boy needs a stable father; not someone who wanders Nippon every other year."
"I want an heir who is entirely my own. Yoshimoto had that boy too young. Any offspring of his could only be trouble for us. Besides," Nagahide moved his hungry eyes from his food to his foster daughter, "Adoption is not what it used to be, brother."
"I realize that."
Asuka's mother grunted quietly. She was tilted over her meal with her teeth clenched in pain. The girl reached over to prop her mother from falling into her soup. She looked up at her daughter with the best smile she could muster through the pain.
"My wife is not producing and-"
Kurando raised his palm to interrupt his brother, "I also realize that this may not be the best time for this conversation."
"I am the daimyo. When I wish to discuss the Ishikawa legacy, we discuss the Ishikawa legacy."
The woman collapsed into the food, spilling rice and soup over the table. Kurando rushed to her with a cloth in hand. He and Asuka worked together to lift her from dinner and brush the food off her kimono.
"Mieko-san, are you okay?" Kurando asked.
She responded by coughing.
"Asuka-san," he said, "We need to get her to her room. I'll carry her if you'll get the doors."
The girl nodded.
12 July 1837, in Kameyama, Japan
"I'm sorry, Hayashi-gozen," the physician closed the box of medical supplies he hardly bothered to open, "But the disease has come too far."
"Finally," Asuka's mother weakly held her daughter's hand, "The anticipation has been worse than the disease."
Asuka heaved a silent breath of anger. Her mother conceded the battle too lightly, as did the physician. She could still defeat it. No foe could be insurmountable. That was what her father taught her.
The girl's grip pressed, "You can still get the surgery."
The physician sighed, "I know a surgery could help her for a month or two, but it is not reliable. She could spill bile onto her lungs and that would surely kill her. I have seen it too many times. She could continue her diet and it may buy her a few extra days, but…"
She heard it said that the physicians of Nagasaki were the perfect warriors against any disease. Their medicine came from the East and West. This man was supposedly from Nagasaki and therefore should have known just how vast his powers were. Still, no recourse ever came to mind or hand.
"Asuka, it's okay," her mother patted her hand.
For much of Asuka's life, her mother had not been well. Even through the darkest days, she could walk and talk and eat. The sun would occasionally rise on her demeanor. She would walk with confidence and cheeks full of color and even eat as she desired. Asuka prayed on those days that they would last forever. The dusk would inevitably fall on those days, and her health would leave her in a pitiful husk. This needed to end.
Her mother's attention returned to the physician, "No surgery, please."
He lifted the box by a strap over his shoulder. His bow was deep, "I wish you the best."
"Peace will be enough."
The physician left with Asuka's hope across his back. She looked around the room. Only the girl and her mother remained. She found that sickeningly appropriate. Ever since her arrival in the Ishikawa household- no, since the executions- Asuka had only her mother. No one else could be trusted. Especially not Nagahide. Damnable bastard, he was.
"Asuka, that hurts," her mother whimpered.
The girl recognized that her hand was becoming akin to a vice. She hastily released her mother and bowed for forgiveness. Too much emotion was a selfish thing to show, especially if it harmed her last connection to the Kasai.
Her mother patted her daughter's head, "It's okay. We should go back to making our cranes."
Asuka raised herself and looked over to the table. Atop it waited the pair of boxes where the Kasai women had been folding their origami cranes. She retrieved them to her mother's bedside. Careful not to damage the delicate origami upon which it was stored, she laid out the stack of small folding papers.
She still needed to retrieve the tally sheet, brush, and inkwell from the bottom. Carefully Asuka probed through the paper birds for the remaining equipment. The brush and tally sheet came out easily enough, but the inkwell slipped from her fingers. She snapped down to catch it, but crushed a crane on the way.
It gave the girl pause. She knew how much her mother wanted to wish upon the thousandth crane. The legend was very clear that the folder needed to make and keep the full thousand at once for the wish to be valid. It was less clear if bent cranes counted.
Asuka glanced up to see her mother already folding cranes. Through her sickness, the woman had maintained her deftness of hand. Asuka wanted to be proud of the Hayashi blood she inherited from her mother. That clan carried an admirable toughness, if only because of their sheer stubbornness. For that reason alone Asuka was certain that her mother would outlast her disease. It was when that tradition was broken that Asuka felt the punch of its betrayal.
Still her mother continued to fold, "I have nearly seven hundred."
Asuka looked into her own origami box. Her stack was dwarfed by mother's. She had no desire to check her tally, because she knew it was insufficient. As shameful as this was in the girl's own eyes, her mother's situation made it difficult to care for folding paper. The whole exercise was to spend time together in the first place. She had long since ceased to believe in the power of the cranes.
"One hundred and fifty eight," the girl lied.
"You really should finish," her mother was stating the obvious, "I'm going to wish for my health," as well as the hopelessly naïve, "What about you?"
Asuka could see that her mother wanted to comfort her, but there existed a fine line between consolation and patronization. Her mother couldn't see how strong this girl had grown to be. No more tears were shed when she thought about the execution at night. Strength was difficult, and she would show that.
No longer wanting to be treated like a child, she stood and walked to the door.
"Is something wrong, Asuka-kun?"
"I'm going to my room now."
20 July 1837, in Kameyama, Japan
"Tell me, Asuka-kun," her master crossed his arms, "Did missing their funeral bring back your brother? or your father?"
She wiped the tears into her sleeve and turned back to the kitchen corner, "Why are you here?"
Asuka wanted to tell him that she missed him, but she did not want those words to be heard. Her own mind reasoned that she did not want him to think she was weak. In truth, she did not want think of herself as trying to escape the pain. Only cowards fear pain.`
"You should see your mother. Just to say goodbye."
"She won't hear me. The dead aren't listening."
"It's not for them. It helps us to move on. If I had a pebble for every time Kasai Asuka tried too hard to be tough, I could build my own castle."
The girl held her tongue. Master Saidani was almost a father to her, but he had no place telling her what to think and feel. She never allowed it from her own father, and her teacher knew that. All she wanted from him was silence.
"How has life been under the Ishikawa?" he changed the subject.
Asuka wished to stop living under them, "I am well."
His kindly eyes showed concern. Perhaps he could see through her lie. He approached her and lowered himself to one knee, "Asuka-kun, have you looked at yourself lately?"
"I have servants who do that for me," she lied. The Ishikawa were not a particularly wealthy clan. The most recent memory of anyone caring for her appearance was older than the memories of her loneliness.
"And how do you like them?"
Asuka could not bear to see her sensei's face, lest he read the thoughts behind her eyes.
"Kurando-sama is very brave and handsome."
"He certainly is, but he is not the daimyo… Asuka, how has Nagahide-sama been treating you?" his voice dropped to a whisper and touched the girl's shoulder, "Has he…"
"No, Kurando-sama always stops him," she would not argue against Kurando if he wanted to console her. His brother, on the other hand… the thought sickened her, but she wanted him to make an attempt on her. If only because it got the blood rushing through her fists, she wanted him to try. Asuka found the romance of retaliation to be satisfying enough that he should give her cause.
He reached into his kimono, "I found something today," revealing a tiny origami crane, "I believe I counted a thousand of them."
"They aren't mine," Asuka turned away.
"Ah, Mieko-sama... What was her wish?"
"Probably something about her health."
"Or her daughter's well-being," master Saidani added.
"Because my being has been so well here."
"Did you make any cranes?"
"Maybe," Asuka truly did not want him to ask if she had finished. The thought of his disappointment at this time filled her
"And what was your wish?"
"I don't believe in wishes."
"I believe that fate is what you make of it," his hand touched her shoulder, "I know life has not been easy this year. I would not wish it on my enemy, yet it is happening to my student. Tell me what I can do to help you."
Asuka slowly gazed up to his kind eyes, "Adopt me."
He sighed, "I cannot. Tokugawa has barred it. I suspect he only trusts you with the Ishikawa. It's a shame too. Nagahide-sama is not known for his competence."
"Saidani-sensei, I need to get away from here."
"Where could you go? The Kasai name has been disgraced. You can't restore it. You could turn to the yakuza, but I won't see my pupil become a criminal."
Her mind raced with possibilities. She'd heard about yakuza before. If they would accept women into their ranks, her skills would not be unsuited to their goals. The life of a rōnin also held some romance. No one could question her femininity if she had no fealty to swear. Either choice would cast her out of society, but a rōnin could be redeemed.
"The Buddha will happily enlighten you," Saidani suggested.
"No, I don't know anything about that," Asuka tightened her fist around the weakness in her grip, "I can fight. That's what you taught me."
"I taught you discipline… but my work was interrupted. I could teach you again, but I can't do anything while you're living with the Ishikawa."
"What about the Asashin?" Asuka had not forgotten that name since her brother said it at the meeting.
Saidani's gaze whipped to the kitchen door and back, as if the girl had just invoked a curse. He looked into her eyes with an alarm she had not seen since the incident when she was nearly trampled by a horse. "Where did did you hear of them?" he whispered.
Asuka did not know why he was suddenly so afraid. He knew that her father and brother were Assassins. Any organization who supported them must be worth her attention. She answered, "Ryōma."
"You could seek them out, but they don't take well to being tracked," he slid his thumb across his throat like a knife, "You need to get their attention."
"How?"
"Sestujin {murder}. It is what they know."
The execution flashed in her mind. Every horrid detail was perfectly clear as though she were still living in that moment. In a way, it never ended. She could fix that. Every face involved was one she could never forget. Her family was made of good men who sought to help the world. The wrinkled witnesses, the young samurai, the giant, and all others involved would receive their due.
"About the cranes... I never finished my thousand, but I did have a wish."
"Tell me."
"Saiban {justice}," Asuka whispered that word. For the first time in months, she felt she could love something. The concept appealed to her notion of honorable restoration despite the anger carried on its wind. Or because of it, "Would you help me?"
"I shall."
15 August 1837, in the woods outside Kameyama, Japan
The summer sun spilled over the hunters as they scaled the grassy hill. It wrinkled Nagahide's skin with shadows, but his brother glowed. Every day she saw Kurando in the sun, he seemed to shine a little more.
"I know it's not like the hunts with your brother, but maybe we can capture some of that old magic," his smile warmed her heart ever so slightly.
No words came from Asuka's mouth. She only grinned a silent grin and leaned her head against his shoulder. If Kurando could be a better man, she could not imagine how. Maybe next time, he could convince his brother to let her wear the samurai kimono her own brother had her wear on their hunting trips. This formal woman's yukata was restrictive around the legs. Climbing rocks and hills was much too difficult with these tall formal sandals and narrow robes.
"Your father didn't raise you right, shojo {girl}," Nagahide snarled from the lead, "You shouldn't even be holding my arrows."
"Nagahide!" Kurando snapped at his brother, "Show some respect."
"Respect for what? The girl still hasn't spread her legs for me. You want me to respect her? Provide me a son."
"First, she's still a girl. Second, the odds of a son are still one-in-two."
"I'm patient."
"Like a starving dog," Kurando's eyes pressed in frustration, "Do you remember father's Zen story?"
"Father did not know Zen any better than he knew when to stop with the stories."
"About the fisherman."
Nagahide grumbled something.
"Well," Kurando continued, "An old man was in the market one day when a man offered him a fish. This old man was a very good fisherman before he retired. I forgot to mention that. But he bought the fish because the fishmonger told him that he could raise the fish and eat them when they got older. Well, there were two fish. He bought them both. He wanted to eat them. He put them in a pond. Don't ask how a fisherman could afford a pond. When he came back a month later, he caught one fish and it was unsatisfying. He decided that he tried too soon and it wasn't good enough."
"Father could tell it better," Nagahide said.
"Father could do many things better, but you understand what I am saying."
"Yes, I understand."
"Let Asuka-kun grow. Let her learn to enjoy your presence while she's still just a girl."
Kurando must have known that Asuka could never grow to love Nagahide. She could see it in how his eyes kept forward on their path and away from his own brother. She touched a hand to his arm as a show of support.
Then she looked up to him. He was already looking down to her with warm bronze eyes shining in the sun. His composure never faltered, despite his red face being flush with sweat. Something inside her, something very small, melted.
Asuka reached up and kissed him softly on the mouth. When she opened her eyes, she expected a face of pleasant surprise. Instead, he had a look of dread. In resistance of all logic, she leaned in again with the hopes that he would be more accepting a second time, but he halted her with a finger on her lips.
"Kurando, I see a young stag with a fawn," Nagahide said from atop the hill.
Asuka froze. While it was legally the concern of no one, she did not want to feel the wrath of a man who wrote the law; not again. The younger Ishikawa snapped his attention to his brother, whom they could both see still kept them to his back. The girl took a relieved breath that the daimyo had seen nothing.
Kurando quietly crept up the hill with Asuka not far behind. She would have made it sooner, but her damnable outfit made climbing far too much hassle. The rocks and roots made walking too hard in the tall sandals Nagahide demanded she wear. Still, she needed to obey her foster father's wishes to the extent she could defy them when his back was turned.
The archer's note rung from Nagahide's direction. His arm was high above the quiver after releasing the bowstring. Ryōma would never have allowed such pitiful form in Asuka's training.
"I got the stag," Nagahide informed them, "But the fawn escaped."
The daimyo pointed to the woods at the foot of the hill. Asuka saw neither a dying stag, nor a fleeing fawn, nor even a trail of broken branches. Something about this situation made her uneasy, since her first thought was that the stag was representative of Kurando. No, Nagahide was not so clever as to speak in symbols.
"Excellent shot, onii-san {brother}," Kurando complimented, but soon scrunched his face in confusion, "But where is it?"
"Down there in the forest. I think he fell at the river. Now retrieve him."
"Of course. Asuka, come," Kurando motioned for the girl to follow him as he started down the hill.
"No," the elder brother stopped him.
Asuka felt the dread building in her throat. It was not unjustified. She feared for Kurando's safety right now. All of the time he had been spending close to the girl had been visibly unnerving the daimyo. She saw a killer in Nagahide. No doubt he was planning something horrid for his brother.
"Is something the matter, onii-san?"
"I need to speak with my," he cast a leering eye to Asuka, "daughter."
"Nagahide…"
His arm shot out toward the river as he bared his teeth, "Get my kill."
"Asuka, if he gives you trouble, whistle. Can you whistle?"
The girl knew how to whistle, but she remembered the thoughts which crossed her mind every day for some time. She wanted Nagahide to try something just so she could strike back. All she needed was the justification, "I don't think I remember."
"Then I want you to come with me."
"Kurando! Get my stag! Now!" Nagahide drew his sword against his brother, "Do not say another word to her."
Useless against the threat of spilled Ishikawa blood, Kurando took a breath and turned down the hill. Nagahide sheathed the sword and turned to the girl. Asuka's breath became erratic.
He was not a large man, but his towering figure loomed over her. She shrunk inside her formal yukata. Asuka had felt smaller before, but she did not feel particularly powerful at this moment. She was merely the girl clutching a large quiver full of spare arrows.
"Come with me," Nagahide grabbed his foster daughter by the arm and pulled her down the hillside opposite his brother, "I saw you."
The quiver fell from her arms and rolled down the hill. She managed to catch a single arrow before they all spilled, "Saw me what?"
"With Kurando, yariman {whore}."
Asuka had been wrong. Nagahide had no intention to harm his own brother. He was going to kill the girl between them; perhaps worse. Then again, it could be both. Nothing would be worse than both. She hoped he was not so imaginative as to be worse.
He stopped her by a tree, "You stay away from my brother, yariman. You are mine and mine alone."
She did better than she expected to stand straight and stare down the violence in his eyes. Nagahide's threats were not the worst she had seen, even in recent memory. After everything she had experienced this year, there was nothing left to lose. Asuka was herself not enough to salvage.
"Are you listening?" Nagahide grabbed her by the mouth.
Asuka whistled. Her foster father gave pause for a half second before he struck her across the face. It didn't matter. Soon, she could escape with Kurando and Nagahide would be left a madman in a large house.
Then he punched her gut and she did not know what happened next. All she could recall was seeing an arrow pass through Nagahide's throat. Warm blood sprayed onto her hands and he coughed it over his jaw.
Asuka was frozen in shock. She looked over Nagahide's shoulder to confirm Kurando's heroism, but he did not stand atop the hill. No one was there. She looked again at the arrow, and it was her own.
Nagahide fell back, his hands still clutching her arms, pulling her forward into death. She landed atop him and pulled the arrow from his neck. From his eyes, he cast accusations of a feeling Asuka recognized as betrayal.
One of his hands found her face. The thumb burned on her right eye. She grasped his arm by both hands. The pain that was small grew so great that it was already numb. She remembered the arrow in her grip and ripped its sharp head down the veins of his arm.
He released her face and grabbed his arm in an attempt to keep the blood in the veins. Asuka took the opportunity to bring the arrow down into his chest. Kurando was not here, but Nagahide was dying. She pulled it out and stabbed him again. There could be no return to the Ishikawa household. Blood splashed brown all over the grass and red on his skin. The life in his eyes disappeared.
The girl stopped to process what had just happened; what she had just done. At her feet lay the bloody corpse of a mighty daimyo. He had been killed by her own hand, in her own rage, and without her own guilt. Her hands were stained red, but she lived on. This must have been the feeling of noble blood. The rushing of her heart was exhilarating indeed. Now there were others who needed to share his fate.
"ASUKA!" a familiar voice cried. It caused her to shudder, because she knew it belonged to Kurando. She hoped he would be more receptive, even if that was not a sensible expectation.
A knocking sound echoed from the tree behind her. Asuka did not need to question the soured note of an arrow shot into a tree. She looked up, and lost her last shreds of hope. The man she loved stood above in his archery stance.
"ASUKA, YOU GET AWAY FROM HIM!" his tears were audible.
The girl hastily pulled the bow off of his brother's body. Another thud sounded from the ground nearby. She gathered a few arrows from the scattered lot, some soaked in blood, and dashed behind the tree.
Kurando could not be the one shooting at her. He was different from his brother. She needed time to breathe and process all of this, but time was a precious commodity she could not afford. Instead, she nocked an arrow over her head.
She had wanted a future with Kurando. Time had come to kill that dream. He could not have a future with anyone; not if she wanted to escape.
She emerged from the tree, arrow at the ready, but she did not see him. He had vanished along with his brother, and the grassy hill, and even the summer sun. That was when she realized that she could not see anything. She opened her eye, but it still saw nothing but pain.
Immediately, she hid herself again in a panic. Another arrow knocked the tree. Asuka's worry snapped back to the situation at hand. Kurando intended to kill her, and she intended to survive. However, her shooting eye was of no more use. She could no longer use her right side.
Memories of her brother came to mind. Ryōma always shot from his left, as he did everything else. It was possible, but she would need to re-learn archery to do it.
"ASUKA, YOU COME OUT HERE NOW!"
This was not the time to learn. Asuka whipped around the other side, holding the bow in her right and pulling the string with her left, but it was unnatural. The only other option was to die. She may as well have been shooting upside-down. This was time to act.
The arrow lined with him. She did not want to loose it. He was too honorable. Even now, he would avenge his scoundrel of a brother. This man was too good for this world and far too good for her.
Asuka released her string and drew a breath. The arrow did not need to strike him. It only needed to decide if she would flee from Kameyama or if she would justify Kurando. He fell back.
She fled to the forest in terror. Behind her, the daimyo's brother shouted incoherently. If he was coherent, she could not tell. It was too late to turn around. In a single moment, the girl had changed the fate of a noble's domain as well as her own. No doubt men would soon come for her head. The time had come for a new direction, and she had an idea of where to begin.
After an hour of running, she could no longer hear Kurando's cries. There was no telling if this was because she had run beyond earshot or if she had nothing left to hear. Her heart was too heavy from all of this to keep running much longer.
The girl stopped at the river. Her body could only run so far in one day and her heaving chest demanded that she stop. Now that she'd escaped the Ishikawa, she thought of her destination: master Saidani. It hurt to imagine that. Despite the problems she had with her foster family, they had given her a home. Now she was without friends, family, and shelter.
She was also without the only man who treated her with respect. Had Kurando been less honorable, he could still be alive. However, were he less honorable, Asuka would likely not have desired him the way she did. The world lost a great man this day, and the world had only the last Kasai to blame. Yet she did not cry.
Her feet felt relaxed in the cool waters of the river. She looked down and saw the blood swimming away with the flow. She saw how her feet had been cleaned by the current while the rest of her soaked in blood and dirt.
A similar, but warm, trickle flowed down her face. She pulled off her belt and wiped her face into it. Her throbbing eye pulled against being touched.
Asuka soaked her belt in the river and wiped again. Her eye did not resist so much this time since the water was refreshing. She still trembled when she saw a new red stain where her eye had been.
The arrowheads she knew to be reflective. She picked one out and raised it to her face, where she could search for her own reflection. Her right eye was beyond bloody: where it once was, she now had a hole oozing blood and pus. It sickened her stomach to see it.
She knew now that it was too late to return to a normal life. Passing for a decent woman would be impossible with a face like what she had.
Asuka resolved to seek out master Saidani. That would be difficult with only one eye. Then, she could begin seeking the men who destroyed the Kasai.