Copyright: I cannot call claim to L5R. I can make all the characters I like, but the card game and the roleplaying setting are not mine to call my own.
Author's Note: After I'd written 'The Sparrow Are Finished', I had a discussion with Phe about how much canon sucked. You can't just erase the Sparrow! That's just wrong! And then we discovered a convenient loophole... and this fic was born. Canon is broken - can we fix it? Yes. Yes we can. Five fragments, because five is a lucky number.
The sound of the sliding door whispering slowly open, after it had not long been slammed, was both irritating and amusing. Daigotsu Susumu pretended he didn't hear. Only a few fools chose to arrive unannounced in his own home, but he was always aware of them. After all, was he not the Dark Fortune of Deceit? No-one could hide their arrival from him. And seeing as he knew for a fact his new guest was neither his Lord Daigotsu, nor the harpy Shahai, nor the withdrawn shade of Akuma, who else could it have been but a Fortune?
Or, more accurately, the Disciple of one.
"Back so soon, I see. Did you forget something, my dear? An apology, perhaps? Or maybe your thanks that I let you leave without asking for penance for ruining my floor with your embarrassing display of temper?" He turned, smirking.
The smirk disappeared.
"You clearly have me mistaken for someone else," said the guest, idly spinning a kasa in his hands. His ippon-guma was immaculate, the red lines as crisp and perfect as though they had been drawn with a razor across the bone-white base paint. His outfit was well-worn - the hem of his hakama ragged and dust-stained as though from a long travel - but was of a quality that would not be out of place in the Imperial Courts, though not even the Crane would wear a blue that dark. The guest walked the fine line between civilised artist and ronin, and walked it like a man who knew his place in both worlds, and thrived in either. The pattern on his kasa, as it spun, seemed to shift and change, never appearing the same way twice.
"Normally," he continued, continuing the spin the umbrella, turning a yin-and-yang into a coiling dragon, then a flock of bats, "I would be flattered, or say that was my intention. This time, however…" He slowly shut the kasa, and lifted his gaze. His eyes were hard, and his words were flat and straight to the point. "You know who I am, Daigotsu Susumu."
Susumu's mouth worked silently for a moment, before he was able to regain his On. "Kyogen."
The actor didn't waste time with a nod or a bow. "I am here to formally register my complaint."
"Complaint?" Susumu left his balcony, closing the distance between himself and his guest. "You have taken an issue with the way I have dealt with the Sparrow Clan, as did your Disciple? Did she send you?" Susumu laughed shortly. "Or maybe you are here to reprimand me in regards to my treatment of her?"
"Neither and none," Kyogen said, with a casual shrug that belied how still - and almost readied - the kasa looked in his hands. "I am the Fortune of Disguise. Your presence as Dark Fortune of Deceit is, to be perfectly honest, one I cannot tolerate."
"Why is that?" Susumu raised an eyebrow, mockingly. "Because I do not follow the rules?"
"Because you're on my stage."
The actor moved his feet and hunched slightly, moving the kasa to be at his waist, handle outwards. Susumu recognised the duellist's stance immediately. The Spider readied his katana - a black blade woven from threads of Obsidian and falsehoods - and took up a similar stance. There was no backing out of this; it was as inevitable as the tide, or the glorious ascension of Lord Daigotsu. Two tigers cannot live on the same mountain, as the Tao says. Even so…
"And you intend to fight me…" Susumu looked disdainfully at the kasa. "With that?"
"No." A brief flicker of a smirk pinched through the thick layer of facepaint, but the focus in Kyogen's eyes did not change. "I intend to defeat you with it."
When he was only Benten's Disciple, Conmei knew there was only one way into this realm. But now he was a Fortune himself, he was inclined to allow his wife to come and go as she pleased, though he was careful to make sure that it did not seem that way. After all, she was the Disicple of Disguise. She had to believe she was fooling everyone.
Even so, it pained him to hear the way she slipped back into the garden, the way she did her best to mute her sobbing, and the sound of her staggering walk. Conmei watched, through the doorway, as Keneng stood and stared at one of the massive 'rocks' in the garden, losing herself in their refractions, before she tottered over to a simple stone bench and sat down.
Her heaving, Breath-of-Benten sigh was what drew him forward, moving swift as the wind, to reach her, to sit beside her, to close his arms around her. "Renai…"
Her mask was simple, plain paper, rough as hyoge-mono, unadorned and undecorated. "I'm sorry," came the whisper from behind it. "I failed you."
"Never," Conmei stroked her hair. "Never say that."
She shook her head. "But I… I should have seen it, Conmei. I should have seen what Kyogen-sensei was warning me about. I should have known the Sparrow Clan was in danger." Tears began to spill out through the eyeholes of the mask. "But I didn't, until it was too late. I failed you, Conmei."
Conmei fought and won, swallowing the choked feeling in his throat at the reminder of the tragedy. Keneng may be the Disciple of Disguise, and may call him husband, but Conmei had much practice in keeping his injuries well-hidden from her. "You did not fail me, renai. There… there was nothing you could have done."
She clenched her fist, back stiffening for a moment. "A mortal man erases a whole clan, and there was nothing I could have done?" She shook her head, vehemently, sending tears flying. "After a hundred years, after all I learned from Kyogen-sensei, after all my time in disguise, after all my life as an actress…" She buried her face in her hands. "I should have seen this plot! I should have seen the threads before they were woven to become a net!" Her whole body shuddered, in helpless grief. "I should have stopped that bastard! But he fooled me, and now… "
Conmei reached down to undo the ties of her mask, letting it clatter to the ground as it fell away. He lifted Keneng's chin, bringing her beautiful tear-stained face upwards, meeting his gaze.
"Wo de ai…"
"Shh." He smiled, fond and sad, as he wiped away her tears with the corner of his sleeve. New tears fell to replace them; he kissed them away, then took his wife in his arms and held her close, closing one strong hand over hers to keep her from wringing them, while the other pressed lightly against the back of her neck.
In a voice stronger than he felt, he told her, "In a time of great suffering, acts of evil can go unseen: a viper knows how to leave no tracks in the ashes of a forest fire. But the Sparrow… they are no more." His body shook in barely-repressed rage for a moment, and he closed his eyes against the pain. "It… it has come to pass. There is no… no… Tears cannot undo the past."
The actress shook her head mutely, in helpless denial.
"Minor clans have fallen before… The Tanuki, the Badger, the Boar… Perhaps it is the will of Heaven that…"
"You cannot mean that!" Her expulsion of anger, and her look of utter outrage as she pushed herself backwards, were both a chastisement and a relief. "This was not Heaven's will, Conmei, and you know it! That bastard Susumu did this!"
"But it is past," he said, voice soft and quiet, staring down at his knees. "I wish it were not so. Oh, I wish it were not so, Keneng." His voice trembled, letting a moment of his weakness show, sharing his pain with his other half..
"Oh, Conmei…" She threaded her fingers through his.
The Sparrow clenched his free hand. "I would have gone with you, when you went to see that Dark Fortune. I should have, to defend you, to be with you… But I…" He closed his eyes. "I… I close my eyes and I see the fields of home, and all my family… If I saw his face I would…" His face stayed still, offering the tears no resistance as they spilled down his cheeks. "I would have… lost my composure." To say the least.
Keneng leant in to his embrace, holding him as tightly as she could, offering the comfort that had been offered to her. "Wo de ai, I am so sorry."
A warm spring breeze wafted through the garden, bringing the smell of open fields, and the smell of cherry and plum blossoms. The wind chime hanging on the open doorway let out a crystal tone, once, twice, three times, before going still.
"You are not alone in helplessness, renai," Conmei said, his voice a little steadier. "I am Sparrow. I should have heard the cries of my brothers and sisters. I should have known my own Clan were suffering. But I did not."
Keneng buried her face in Conmei's chest.
"The Sparrow are gone." He forced a brave smile, wiping at his face and stroking his wife's hair with hands that shook. "I wish it were not so. But there is nothing that can be done, Keneng."
"No."
Keneng lifted her face to him, eyes burning. She kissed him, briefly, then rose to her feet, scooping the mask from the ground where it had fallen.
"No," she murmured, examining the mask with a determined set to her jaw. "Not quite. There is still something. Small as it is, there is still something that can be done." Keneng took her husband by the hand, and led him inside. To the Room of Masks, where the Jade Mirror stood.
Susumu's iaijitsu was perfect. Neither he nor Kyogen had broken focus, but Susumu had acted first. In a fight against the Fortune of Disguise, he knew he needed to act first. It was, after all, more than a matter of life and death. On the drawing of his blade, shadows leapt up from the floor, blackening the sight, turning the room into a pool of utter darkness, obscuring even the sound of Susumu's footfalls as he crossed the distance and brought his sword down hard on…
… empty space…
A massive orange-and-red face exploded off to his left, the snarling visage of a New Year Dragon, and Susumu staggered sideways, shocked and unbalanced. He bought his sword up to slice through it, but the picture shrank away to nothing but the creature's black, circular tongue, which lunged at him…
The kasa!
Susumu barely twisted out of the way in time. There was the soft sound of tearing silk, and Susumu's sleeve was severed at the elbow. Susumu stepped back, remaining on his toes, as he dismissed the darkness, shaking the useless piece of cloth from his arm.
Across the room, Kyogen was spinning the kasa again, feet apart in bo stance. His face was stoic as before, but the paint had changed to a design of a grinning monkey.
Susumu changed the grip on his katana, and flung it, hard, at the Fortune, then ducked into a roll, tumbling across the floor, rising up to strike Kyogen in the left shin with a kick, feint to the gut with an elbow strike then drive a hand into his throat. There was no way he can block both sword and myself…
The kasa blossomed again, the handle clanging upwards to deflect the black katana, while the opened ribs and the lacquer-tipped point dove down towards the crouched Susumu, who was forced to turn his feint into a block. The Spider grunted; the kasa was heavier than he thought. A blade? Kyogen has a blade hidden inside it? Impressive; he'd have to remember that.
A flick of his wrists and the kasa was pushed back, giving him enough room to swing his leg in a sweeping arc. Kyogen acted as expected, stepping back to avoid the feint that would have been obvious to anyone outside the combat. But then the actor stepped forward again, shutting the kasa to drive it down hard; only Susumu's reflexes saw that the point drove into the floor rather than his neck or shoulder.
The Spider was on his feet in an instant, swaying to his left with a raised right jab, only to immediately switch left and strike with downward. The Spider tried not to let his satisfaction show as his hand drove into the Fortune's arm, shaking Kyogen's hold on the kasa. He followed through with a backwards kick, one that missed Kyogen - intentionally - so that there was more force in the follow through, the second kick, which Kyogen stopped, only barely in time, by the kasa braced against his body, and a change in stance.
"Snake Style?" Kyogen shook the hair from his eyes, as Susumu stepped back and raised his hands. "What is this, Daigotsu? Are you trying to tell me you're all feint, no bite?"
Susumu leapt forward, unleashing a barrage of sweeping kicks, quick movements, rapid feints, double-steps, all designed to confuse and distract, but the actor seemed utterly unflappable. The kasa acted as both sword and shield in his hands, as well as a distraction of his own. The shifting colours and constant shifts from open to closed made it impossible to land a blow, or make the feints as effective as they could have been.
"First blood," Kyogen said calmly.
Susumu stepped back, shaking another sleeve from his arm, pretending he didn't see the thin line of red across his forearm, then spun where he stood, planting a kick firmly in the Fortune's gut. Kyogen gave a 'woof' of surprise, staggering back, partially winded. Susumu didn't waste the chance, and pressed forward, both hands raised in a strike…
Kyogen turned his back, spinning, using the umbrella to block Susumu's hands, then ducked as the shadows behind him moved with a life of their own, flinging a handful of black darts. The darts punctured the paper screen opposite. Susumu snagged one out of midair and spun as he jumped, intending to drive it into Kyogen's back, or eye, or something. But the Fortune wasn't as winded as he appeared, and was able to move out of the way in time. No, he danced out of the way, and delivered a chastising slap with the kasa as Susumu passed.
The Spider threw a handful of dust at Kyogen, hitting him square in the face, then spun, ducked, dove forward, fingers locked in claws to rend and stab… Kyogen stepped twice, spun where he stood, and opened-shut-opened the kasa so quickly that Susumu barely had chance to catch himself, let alone try to land any open-handed blows on his opponent. The dust, he noted sourly, hadn't done a damn thing to obscure the actor's vision.
"What kind of duel is this?" Kyogen laughed, "I thought you were Deceit, not Cheap Parlour Tricks."
Susumu's face heated, but he managed to keep most of the snarl away. "Neither of us said anything about this being a duel."
Oddly enough, the statement caused an actual smile. "Why, of course. Silly me." He opened the kasa over his head, as casual as a man about to step out of a teahouse into the rain.
Susumu ducked, leaping back from the teakettle that dropped out of nowhere, and the several that swiftly followed. A wave of his hand, and his obsidian blade was back in hand. He scythed through the air, slashing pottery and bronze and tin in half, destroying any and all that were hurled at him from unseen sources. The rain of teakettles continued - how many were there going to be? - and Susumu was forced to cut his way through the falling pottery and metal as he forced his way across the room to Kyogen.
Only, it wasn't Kyogen anymore. "Praise Suitengu!"
Susumu was forced into a tumble, cutting his hands and face on the shards of broken teakettles that lay scattered about the chamber, as a furious Air Kami tore towards him, banishing the shadows in a crackle of white light. The barrel-chested Mantis coughed, then threw down the empty stormbottle, uncorking another one from the bandolier he wore.
"What is this?" Susumu knelt, blade readied, his black-iris eyes as wide as they could go.
"Not a duel, obviously!" The Mantis grinned, lifting the bottle to his lips.
Susumu didn't quite make it in time; outrage and incredulity ate up a few seconds of his reaction time, and the last teakettle shattered on his shoulder. The second Air Kami hit him in the chest soon after, sending him flying through the paper walls, knocked out into the courtyard.
"I know a handful of prissy Crane girls who would love to know where you got your hair done." From the broken hole in the wall, the massive silhouette of a Matsu warrior, in full armour and wielding a massive no dachi. "It's still perfect, even after all that rolling around on the floor."
Susumu crouched low, slamming a palm on the ground, and the tiles of the courtyard rippled, rising up to reshape themselves into massive spikes. The Matsu swung her no dachi up over her head, and slammed it down on the ground in front of her with an "ooh-RAAH". The shockwave deflected most of the spikes; only a few got through, most pinging harmlessly off the Matsu's armour though a few buried themselves into her neck and arms. Lucky strikes, really, and causing the Matsu some pause, but Susumu was more concerned about the wave of force coming his way. He raised his sword to cut it in two, sending two wedge-shaped walls of force off either side of him. He ignored the wanton destruction to the walls of his home as he retook a stance, and charged at the Matsu.
The Matsu grinned, crouched, and charged to meet him. But at the last moment, with the no dachi raised over her head, Susumu let out a cry, and the courtyard was filled with copies of himself. Kyogen's disguise couldn't possibly defend against eight illusions and one real…
The hammer slammed him right in the chest, driving him to the ground and shattering the stone beneath him. He gasped, coughing blood as his armour - and a few ribs - cracked under the force. His illusions vanished, dismissed with the breaking of his concentration.
"Amateur!" The Matsu was gone, replaced by a nine year old child, who folded his arms and looked smug and self-assured in the way that all Seppun children do. The child grinned, and started running circles around Susumu, the sight of him blurring and breaking up into fragments.
The Spider hoisted himself upright, picking up his sword and watching the growing number of illusions with a wary eye. One of these children was Kyogen. He'd just have to wait until something gave the real one away and then he'd cut him down…
All of the illusions moved at once, one faster than the others. Susumu leapt for that one, striking faster than the eye could see. The child screamed in pain, several fingers flying away, but Susumu's triumph was short lived as all the other illusions struck him at once, driving him to the ground with flailing punches and kicks and the sheer weight of all their bodies.
"How are you doing that?" Susumu said, struggling under the pile of furious children. "They… illusions can't be real!"
"Of course they're real," the Seppun child, hand no longer bleeding, aged into an old man who smelled of the sea and of too much sake, a man with a net in one hand, an oar in the other, and a cricket cage at his waist. "We're all real. Ain't that right, Crickey?" He threw the net - the children vanished, so Susumu alone was caught in the fibres - and rained down blows on the helpless Susumu with the oar. Constant, humiliating blows...
"ENOUGH!"
Susumu spun, rising into the air, the sword cutting through the net like it was paper. He soared above the old man's head, leaping to the rooftops, then waved a hand over his domain. The earth began to shake; fire consumed the ground, whole trees and rocky outcrops erased the buildings and walkways; paths became bamboo groves, empty spaces became dark shrines, and the courtyard closed in on itself like the jaws of a ravenous creature, trapping the old man in its maw.
"Huh," Kyogen's voice came from behind Susumu. "An interesting attempt to distract me, Daigotsu, I'll give you that."
"Strange. I would have thought you would object to the changing of the stage," he dropped his sword arm, letting the tip of the black katana lightly touch the roof tiles. There was no way to defend against this next strike with a mere umbrella, hidden blade or no…
The actor just grinned through his facepaint. "You sound like my Disciple."
And then it was Keneng who threw herself at him, spinning in place with a gold-bladed fan in each hand, dancing inexorably towards him, her kimono short enough to be more than distracting. Susumu blocked every strike, laughing as he was backed towards the edge, then laughing further as he leapt backwards to perch, one-legged on a gnarled tree branch.
"Does your student know you imitate her, actor?"
"She imitated me once," Keneng's high, lilting voice trilled from her black-and-blue patterned mask, as she readied herself to follow, one leg lifted to bare an awful lot of thigh as she tauntingly shook her fans. "I figure this settles the score."
Susumu leapt, but his sword-strike crashed not against a fan but against a well-made katana. It wasn't a child-sized woman who fought him now, but Kyogen himself.
"Ah, finally. I was wondering when I'd see your face again. Tired of playing puppetmaster, were you?"
Kyogen said nothing. His face betrayed nothing. It was, after all, a plain wooden mask, flakes of bian-lian paper peeling at the edges where it had been badly burned.
The two of them landed in the middle of a desert, with a dark grey sky and baked yellow earth stretching in every direction. Both men were bleeding, panting, but both held their katana readied. Susumu noted Kyogen's katana with narrowed eyes. The patterns on the blade shifted and changed: dragons, tigers, warriors, fanged maws, ocean waves, a poem from the Tao… It was no katana.
"Defeat me with the kasa, you said," the Spider purred. "It doesn't count if you change its form."
"Remember who I am," Kyogen's voice was calm and clear through the burned mask. The colour slowly bled out of his clothes, the vibrant dark blues changing to dull browns. A mon slowly wove over Kyogen's heart, and Susumu's eyes widened as he recognised the crest.
"Suzume? You… You're a Sparrow, Kyogen?" He grinned, pointed teeth and feral laughter to match. "Oh, well, this is a delight. To claim your title, as well as to be more thourough in my destruction of the Sparrow, is twice the prize."
"You haven't defeated me yet," Kyogen gripped his kasa-katana tightly, muscles tensing as he readied his strike, sword raised in the time-honoured Sparrow fighting style. "And you never will."
Susumu did not so much as leap as much as flow forward, his blade slicing so fast and keen through the air that it screamed as though it were being slain.
In the shadow of the withered pine overlooking the ambush, where the Hida were bearing away the unconscious Suzume Kenta, a soft rain of plum blossoms fell. The pale mask hidden in the pine's boughs half-turned to their source, but the mask's hollow eye-slits were focused entirely on the unconscious Sparrow.
"Keneng, what are you doing?" The petals parted, and a Sparrow bushi kneeled on the branch beside the mask.
I am watching him, whispered the wind through the mask.
"You must come back," Conmei whispered, "You are not safe here."
No, the words murmured through the unmoving mouth-slit. I must stay.
The bushi sighed heavily, reaching to touch the edge of the hovering porcelain briefly. "I will not fight you, renai. I appreciate what you are doing. Still, you must know how dangerous this is." He paused, then whispered to hide the wavering in his voice, "I cannot bear the thought of you being lost."
I will never be lost when I carry you with me. The mask started floating forward, following the road down which the Hida and ashigaru were bearing the dead - and the one survivor - back to their camp. You and I are bound forever, Conmei. We will never be parted. Never again.
"Keneng, please." Conmei walked behind the mask, treading on the air, leaving behind him a trail of petals that faded into the sounds of a centuries-forgotten lovesong. "You have no worshippers. Your hold on Ningen-do is limited when you are not in a disguise."
I should have risked this… and so much more. There was a strained quality to the whisper. What of you, dear husband? With recent events, you have less followers than before as well. You risk yourself, too.
"You wanted to show me what you were doing," Conmei said, still walking on the air behind the mask. "You really didn't expect me to follow you?"
A soft breath of a laugh. I had hoped you would, I must admit. But now isn't the time nor place, wo de ai, for a lovers' quarrel. I am going to watch Suzume Kenta. I am going to protect him.
He smiled, sad and fond and his heart bursting with love for her all over again, but shook his head. "Keneng, do you even realise what you're saying?"
I am saying, the mask's whispers were firmer, less flighty, than before, That I will not see the Sparrow die. The mask turned slightly, adding, And why should I not? After all, I married you, Conmei. Your clan is mine.
"Renai..." There was a burning pride in his chest, and he longed to reach out and take her hand, to draw her into his arms. But she had no form to hold here.
The bushi and the mask reached the Hida camp, and floated, unseen, to wait by the camp bed where Kenta was being lain out, checked for injuries. The healers found little to treat. Conmei looked at the last of his clan, then turned to the bone-white face of his wife, unable to find the breath - let alone the words - to speak.
But in the mask's breath, there was steel. I will undo my ignorance and my inaction; I will protect him, and I will see that his life and his words will strip away the masks that the Dark Fortune of Deceit has handed out to his followers.
The Fortune of Devoted Love felt something in his throat, stopping him from speaking. Instead, he just bowed his head and looked at the sleeping Kenta. At the Sparrow who has not had time to draw his blade, but would not relinquish it, even while unconscious.
I swear it, the mask said. I swear on all I am, on the five elements, on the Empire and the Empress, and on every blade of grass, on every stream, on every mountain, on the wide oceans and endless skies, and every Fortune living or dead or forgotten or even yet to be. The Sparrow will not die. They will not be lost. I swear it. From this day forth, I will be their watchful guardian…
There was something like a chime in the air, and both Conmei and Keneng paused, looking up as the heavens themselves seemed to shake. A ripple like water passed through them both, and Keneng gasped as she found herself changed. No longer a hovering mask, she stood in human form, wrapped in the plum kimono she had worn before she stepped through the mirror, her mask shifting to accommodate the rippling patterns of her emotions and thoughts as they did whenever she was home. Conmei stared, open-mouthed; Keneng stared back, both hands going to her mouth.
The new Fortune of Disguise had just pledged herself to the utmost and personal protection of the Sparrow.
Susumu sheathed his sword, panting. The pain in his leg, the throbbing of his head, and the difficulty there was in breathing… It was nothing in the face of this victory. He waved a hand, and the desert disappeared around him. Soon, he was back in the courtyard of his home, which bore no signs of the recent scuffle. His hair fell about his shoulders in unprofessional array, and there were five new bleeding cuts on his arms and legs, but he was alone.
All that remained of his opponent was a burned mask, and a shattered kasa.
Now, what to do with what's left of you, former Fortune? Susumu tried to say, gloating as he pushed a strand of hair out of his face, but all that came out was a pained groan. The Matsu's no dachi had done more damage than he'd suspected. The Spider gingerly probed his side, feeling his flesh bend in unpleasant ways where the ribs did not hold firm.
You were victorious, I see, despite your injuries.
"Daigotsu-sama!" Susumu dropped to a knee, ignoring the pain in the glorious presence of His Lord. "Forgive me. I shall carry these injuries as penance for my inability to…"
You won. The darkness coiled smugly in the doorway, revealing and then hiding again the vague figure of a tall, lean man in a demon's mask, long white hair draped down his back. There is no need for shame or penance, my faithful servant. You have defeated a Fortune, removed him from Heaven and strengthened yourself in his demise. In this, you have served me well.
"Yes, my lord," Susumu dipped his head, hair falling forward in disarray, all pain forgotten as Lord Daigotsu's praise washed over him. "As I ever will."
Rest yourself, Susumu, the darkness intoned as it faded away. I will have more tasks for you when you are recovered. The expansion of Jigoku - and the claiming of mortal hope - requires your skills.
"Yes, oh glorious one!" He lifted his face and stared beatifically at the empty doorway, the expression unchanging even as he staggered to his feet. There was even a swagger to his walk as he crossed the empty courtyard, kicking aside the kasa.
"Thought you could defeat me?" Susumu laughed softly, as he stooped to pick the burned mask off the floor, and turned it to face him. "Foolish."
For a moment, time seemed to still. The mask took on a reflective sheen, more polished than any steel mirror. Susumu examined himself critically, turning his head this way and that as he stared at his reflection.
The hardest part, he thought to himself in a gruff voice quite unlike his own, Was trying to get your hair right. Stupid vain bastard; probably spends more time with a mirror each morning than a Shosuro courtesan. He scratched the underside of his chin, equalising a smudge of white paint that hadn't quite blended in with the rest of his skin colour. Lord Daigotsu showing up was a given, but I'd barely had time to get into character. Lucky for me I could pass off any inconsistencies of appearance in light of the duel.
"It was a little too close," Susumu murmured, tucking the burned mask into his sleeve, where it vanished as though it had never been. He grinned, teeth sharp and glinting in the dim un-light. "But it's done now. And here I am."
I wonder how Keneng is going to handle the responsibility of taking my place as Fortune? He fingered a loose piece of hair, then swept it back carelessly. With a thought, his hair returned to an utterly immaculate state, not a single strand out of place. Time will tell. But I like what she's done already. When she finds out about the other Sparrow I've saved, and secreted away… well, I hope I'm there to see that. To play the villain to her righteous defender of the weak. To shake my fists and play my games, and see how she handles it. Our lessons still continue, student, though you are my Disciple no more. Still, I expect you to win, or at least do your very best to best me.
Time snapped back into place, and the chuckle of Kyogen faded into nothingness. Susumu smirked, looking up into the mist-shrouded sky, and set one hand on his katana hilt.
"Oh, yes," he purred, smug and self-assured, "I think I'm going to enjoy this role."