Chapter Eleven: The Blood Seal
"In order to fight like a demon," Senhime prefaced, "you must first have a demon sword."
Angling her katana so the polished steel ran perpendicular to her form, the demoness gazed at it approvingly.
"This is one of the three swords forged by the celestial maiden Suzuka Gozen. It goes by the name Daitsuren, meaning 'first cut'. Legend has it that she used this sword to overthrow human oppression. It is the single most valuable heirloom of the Gozen Bloodline."
Daunted by its history, Chizuru studied the sword. It looked like any other katana she had ever laid eyes on. It was slender and sharp with a slight curve. The circular guard seemed a bit dull, but only because the hilt was a dark burgundy that matched the fire of Senhime's intelligent gaze. Aside from its proper form, she couldn't identify any peculiarities that would distinguish it from the average samurai sword.
"What makes it so different?" She asked uncertain.
"Its essence," replied the oni, running her fingers along its matte finish.
Her answer was vague and confusing enough to draw a look of skepticism from Chizuru.
"I don't understand. Its essence?" she questioned.
Last she knew a katana was an inanimate object incapable of possessing soul.
Senhime relaxed her stance and held the katana so that Chizuru could have a closer look.
"A demon sword, unlike its human counterpart, is forged in the akuma no chikara of its master." She clarified, "When Suzuka made Daitsuren; she concentrated her demon fire and compelled nature to produce a weapon worthy of her possession. But in order to complete the spell, she had to perform a blood seal and infuse her power into the sword."
For illustrative effect, Senhime summoned forth her akuma no chikara. Letting it ripple through her body like fresh adrenaline, she allowed her sword to pulsate with faint azure light.
"Suzuka's power lives on in Daitsuren," She explained, "and because of the blood seal, it awakens only for her descendants. In the hands of a human, it is useless, but in the hands of a pure blood heir, it is fatal."
Chizuru's skin prickled in alarm as a heady aura began to radiate from the sword. The sudden sensation was disconcerting, as it assaulted her senses. Come closer, it seemed to beckon to her, come closer and feel the wrath of my bite. Feel the sting of my fangs. But just as the crescent steel began to bare its teeth at her, Senhime withdrew her chikara ending its cantankerous smoldering. Daitsuren grew dormant once more, returned to its scabbard as a snake to its hollow.
Chizuru gave a shaky laugh.
"Scary, huh?" Senhime agreed with flickering eyes. "Suzuka had a passion for martial combat. Daitsuren was her favorite, because it always lusted for a good fight. It embodies her hunger. When I fight with her sword, I fight with the power of Suzuka Gozen. This is what makes a demon sword so exceptional."
"Well," said Chizuru, frowning, "I may be a pure blood, but I don't possess a demon sword."
"Ah, but that's the thing! You do." Senhime elated with a flashing smile. "I hope you don't mind, Chizuru-chan, but while you were…occupied…last night, I took the liberty of examining your wakazashi."
Chizuru adopted a poker face as she watched the demoness float over to the wooden kotatsu table and pick up a familiar sword.
"It's very faint," said Senhime, "but undeniable. The power of your ancestor courses within this sword. I can sense it."
This caught Chizuru completely by surprise.
Taking the blade into her grip, she held it with newfound appreciation. The familiar hilt with its red tassel fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, and if she were to draw the cold steel from its sheath it would glimmer like a polished jewel. The composition of it was just right for her small build. She could brandish it with ease.
Holding it now, she was filled with a tremendous amount of relief. She had grown so accustomed to wearing it as part of her disguise in the Shinsengumi; it was eerie to think she had been carrying it all this time not knowing the incredible power within her grasp.
It was Koudou who had given it to her.
Keep this close to you, Chizuru. He had insisted. Remember your training and always keep a watchful eye. I want you to be able to defend yourself while I am away. This sword will keep you safe.
That night, Chizuru had been moved by his display of fatherly concern. But as she contemplated over the memory now, she couldn't help wonder if he had entrusted the Yukimura sword to her knowing she would have the potential to wield it someday. It was under his tutelage that she had trained at the local dojo after all.
Chizuru tilted her head curiously.
"How do I wield it?"
"You must reenact the blood seal," Senhime answered, "Draw forth your chikara and slice the pad of your thumb along the edge. When you feel your wakazashi stir to life, recite these words: I, Chizuru Yukimura, Heir to the Eastern Demon Clan, hereby complete this contract."
Ah, seems simple enough. Chizuru rejoiced. And here she was beginning to think that all the Demon Arts had a nasty catch…
Attuned to her thoughts, Senhime shook her head.
"No, Chizuru. It's not as simple as it sounds," she said dimly. "When a pure blood performs a blood seal on an ancestral blade, they too must fuse their power with the sword. Otherwise, the enchantment is annulled."
"How much of my power are we talking about?" asked Chizuru.
"Enough." The demoness murmured. "It is a high price to pay, but a worthy one all the same. The blood seal is what coerces the demon sword to obey your will."
"Hmm…" Chizuru hummed with a degree of apprehension. "Will it hurt?"
"Just a tiny sting," assured Senhime, "Although, the power in the blade will try to overcome you in its attempt to escape. Demon swords are notoriously fickle. Daitsuren nearly killed me it was so stubborn…uh, but it only lasted a second!" She quickly amended with a boisterous laugh. Chizuru appeared to have fallen ill. Her face took on an uncharacteristically green sheen, and Senhime realized she had said too much.
"All it takes is a moment. Once the blood seal is performed, the demon sword is yours."
"Just a sting?" Chizuru mumbled under her breath. Senhime nodded.
Extracting the blade from its scabbard, Chizuru summoned her chikara. After days of practicing this art, it burst forth like a willing attendant eager to do her bidding. Training her focus onto the sword, she sliced the pad of her thumb on the razor-sharp edge. The sting was nothing compared to the broken wrist or flesh wounds of her recent past. In fact, to make sure the cut was deep enough, she pressed it harder so a thick droplet of blood stained the polished steel.
The wakazashi reacted immediately. Giving a powerful tremor that crept all the way up Chizuru's sword-bearing arm, it grew unnaturally cold. In fact, so cold, the hilt began to sear her hand as if she had a chunk of ice between her fingers. Aroused from slumber, the demon power surged forth in a plume of white mist. It curled around Chizuru contemptuously, and she saw the warmth of her breath turn to icicles. Wracked with chills, she nearly lost her concentration as the wintry phantom attacked her in a wild flurry of ice.
"Complete the blood seal!" Senhime yelled above the commotion.
Chizuru remembered herself.
"I, Chizuru Yukimura, Heir to the Eastern Demon Clan, hereby complete this contract."
She spoke the words with unwavering intent, letting her voice tame the wild shuddering of her wakazashi. The foreign power fought against her, straining for freedom, but after an intense moment or two, it finally subdued under her control. Growing still, the blade began to pulsate with the same azure light.
Unnervingly, Chizuru felt complete.
"Good," Senhime said in her soft, silky voice, "very good. We are ready to begin."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
In the absence of its Head Commander, the Shinsengumi compound became a restless animal that paced its cage anxiously. It could sense the approaching storm from the north where thick white clouds were brewing, and it strained against the tufts of wind that tore cherry blossoms from its trees. Amid the falling flower petals, soldiers swept across the encampment like a pack of angry wolves. They took to the training fields to hone their skills; they took to the infirmary to tend the wounded. Some stalked the perimeter of the complex, while most prowled the streets in search of ronin prey to quell their vengeful thirst.
The Shinsengumi held a reputation for burning brightest in the darkest hour. Kimigiku realized the truth of it as she watched the drama unfold, her eyes calculating.
With the entire complex in an uproar, it was providing perfect camouflage for the demonic sword fight taking place behind her. Standing from her perch, Kimigiku walked around the south central barracks and surveyed the small piece of terrain where Senhime and Chizuru dueled. It was a perfect space, really, with its level ground ideal for footwork. It had a small cluster of stones off to the side that was perfect for climbing and a thicket of bamboo that was perfect for dodging. If the duel got pushed up onto the terrace, which Senhime ensured it did, it provided the latticework, pillars, and glossy wooden floor for a truly spectacular sword fight.
True to her word, Senhime struck a hard bargain.
Delivering a direct blow that screeched along Chizuru's wakazashi until it struck her guard; the demoness sent her flying backwards into the dirt.
"You almost have it, Chizuru." She called out, shifting Daitsuren in her hand. "Be sure when you perform a parry to angle your stroke. Now, again!"
Chizuru leaped back onto her feet to meet Senhime's onslaught as they continued exchanging blows.
Kimigiku watched the two with fascination. She remembered a time when she had trained with the demon princess.
It had been a few years ago that the kunoichi and oni sparred together under the surveillance of her shinobi elders. Senhime brandished her demon sword for the first time as Kimigiku employed her repertoire of combat moves. The purpose of the training exercise was to see how well the two complimented each other if Senhime should ever be threatened and Kimigiku had to rescue her from a fight. The duel had been one of the single most thrilling experiences of her shinobi career - fighting against the power of a pure blood demon. Now who could boast about that these days?
Kimigiku cracked a sly smile. Just as Senhime pummeled Chizuru into the dirt, Kimigiku had flattened the demon princess on multiple occasions. It filled her with nostalgia to watch her charge deliver the same, swift moves she had used during their training.
To her credit, Chizuru was putting up a fair fight. The girl had mentioned basic dojo training when she lived in Edo with her father, and she demonstrated a keen talent for momentum redistribution. When Senhime taught her the five basic forms of self-defense, she had been delighted when Chizuru managed to redirect several of her attacks. However, when the demoness switched to modes of attack Chizuru struggled with adjusting to the power of her sword.
As far as Kimigiku understood, the demon sword already possessed the mastery of form. All the master had to do was perform the right sequence of strokes. It was like learning calligraphy, really. Chizuru need only learn the strokes that made the character. The first few times, the character would be blotched and sloppy, but as she continued to master the weight of her stroke, the angle of her wrist, the flourish of her brush, the character would become finer and finer until it reached perfection.
Chizuru angled her stroke, successfully blocking Senhime's attack. Thrusting her momentum downward, she changed the position of her hand and delivered a blow that sent Senhime reeling on her feet.
"Beautiful!" The demoness applauded. "You are doing absolutely wonderful. Want to run through that entire sequence again?"
Chizuru rolled her shoulders to release some of the soreness from her fall, but nodded eagerly.
"Yes, from the beginning," she panted, "But can we add that upward vertical draw you were telling me about?"
"You want to try it? Alright. Sheath your sword and relax on the ground. We'll see how well you do at a quick draw," Senhime instructed.
They went on like this for hours.
Keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, Kimigiku was entertained by the two demons. They worked on basic footwork all morning, but as Chizuru began to grow more confident with her sword, Senhime had her all over the place practicing her groundwork. It was easy to fight on level ground, but more than likely Chizuru would find herself in many random situations where the ground was anything but level. To prepare her for this, they dueled on top of the stones where Chizuru learned upwind and downwind techniques. She learned how to jump from a rock and land into a defensive crouch with her sword poised for an attack. They tested each other in the bamboo thicket dodging each other's advances and weaving through the maze unscathed. When that grew old, Senhime had Chizuru up on the railing of the veranda practicing her balance on the wooden beam. All the while, their demon swords pulsated in that blue light that reminded the kunoichi of the cobalt flames of their akuma no chikara.
Senhime strove to impart Chizuru with all the wisdom of the Demon Arts, but with an impossible deadline, she could only provide a basic framework at best. In their absence, it would be Chizuru's responsibility to pursue her own talents. Kimigiku knew this troubled the demoness. Leaving the girl alone with her newly awakened power was just as bad as leaving a baby in a room with an unsheathed katana. Add political strife, Rasetsu and Kazama to the mix and you had a delicious recipe for disaster.
No wonder Senhime had panicked last night.
Kimigiku had delayed in responding to the letter she had received that morning, hoping it would buy Senhime a little more time to instruct Chizuru. But the delay would be nothing significant. If she didn't return the Gozen heir to her family fortress with a day or two, it would only be a matter of time before her shinobi clan descended upon the Shinsengumi headquarters.
She gave a sharp sigh.
When Kimigiku had urged the demoness to reconsider taking Chizuru with them, she had spoken out of sincere concern for the girl. In all their time together, the kunoichi had grown rather fond of Chizuru, and the desire to protect her was overwhelming. In fact, she reminded her of Senhime so much, it was almost as if they were sisters. But where Senhime was feisty and argumentative, Chizuru was determined and fierce. Neither girl embodied a particularly violent disposition; however, their moral conviction was what drew them so close together in their alikeness.
Perhaps in another life, they truly were sisters.A clap of thunder sounded off in the distance, stirring Kimigiku from her observation.
Peering into the sky, she spotted a gray cloud approaching.
"A storm is coming," she whispered.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
By the time the Second Division Captain of the Shinsengumi returned to headquarters, his feet were dragging behind him in exhaustion. He had been part of the vanguard that followed Kondou to the edge of Kyoto early that morning, but as sunrise broke across the city, Shinpachi patrolled all throughout its streets in search of the ronin who nearly destroyed Okita and his men. After hours of fruitless searching, he finally returned to the compound feeling tired and frustrated.
"Nagakura-kun, you're back," Sannan greeted as the captain shuffled into the refectory. "Any luck with the investigation?"
Shinpachi caught the delectable smell of teriyaki pork and his mouth began to water.
"Nah. The streets are as polished as Inoue's bald spot," he huffed, taking a seat in his usual spot. Several trays of food had been laid out, but the room was missing quite a few occupants.
Frowning, he asked, "It's unusual to see you awake at this hour, Sannan-san. Where is everyone?"
"Hijikata left to meet with the Shogun this morning. I am acting in his charge while he is away," the bespectacled Rasetsu murmured over the rim of his tea mug. "As for the others, I imagine they are still out patrolling."
"Okita?"
Sannan's face fell into lines of misery. Shaking his head, he said, "Okita-kun is still recuperating. Dr. Matsumoto is spending time with him. He assures me his wounds are not fatal, but he will still need some time to recover."
Silent rage filled the otherwise comical swordsman as he clenched his fists.
"Those damn bastards," he hissed.
"Who, us?" Sanosuke exclaimed in mock offense. "That is no way to speak of your fellow comrades when they are not here to defend themselves, Shinpachi-san."
The spearman entered the room with Inoue close behind. They were both still dressed in their blue silk, which was an indication that they too had been patrolling all morning. Sanosuke sank into his usual spot with an audible sigh.
"You are late. With all this good food, it is unacceptable." Shinpachi responded. With a thin smile, he asked, "How are you feeling, Harada?"
"Like my body got pulverized in a bone crusher," he complained, rubbing his neck sourly. "Installing thirty mannequins and then having to turn right around and patrol for six hours is not my idea of fun. Hijikata will feel my wrath."
"I too have a few choice words for our oni-fukuchou when he returns," Shinpachi agreed as he felt his own exhaustion taking over. If the Shinsengumi wasn't so strapped for personnel, he would have sought refuge in the comfort of his room, but the day was only half through. Having Kondou absent from headquarters made him too anxious to relax anyway. Somehow, he would muster the energy to spend another six hours on patrol.
"Nothing noteworthy to report, Sannan-san," said Inoue. He took a deep draft of his tea and sighed. "The streets were peaceful this morning. It has me suspicious."
"Any word from Yamazaki yet?" Sanosuke asked, laying hopeful eyes on the Vice Commander.
Sannan shook his head. "No, nothing yet. But we should assume he'll be sending word anytime now. We just have to be patient."
"No offense Sannan-san, but patience isn't one of my best qualities," Shinpachi disputed.
"Kondou ordered us to wait, so wait is what we will do," reprimanded the Rasetsu austerely.
Growing uncomfortable by the tension mounting in the air, Sanosuke took a big bite of his rice before asking, "Anyone know what Chizuru has been up to this morning? I mean, is she okay? Senhime was mentioning something about rapid healing abilities at breakfast."
The timing couldn't have been more perfect.
Just as the words left the spearman's mouth, two figures leapt onto the veranda with feline grace before dashing into the room.
"Ah, food…" Senhime languished with a happy sigh.
Chizuru followed her, announcing, "I am starving."
Without further ceremony, the two girls plopped onto the floor and began to eat immediately. Tearing at the teriyaki pork with their teeth and stuffing their mouths full of rice, their ravenous display earned them a round of traumatized looks from the officers.
"Ch-Chizuru?!" Shinpachi exclaimed, choking over his tea.
The lovely, docile Chizuru Yukimura, delicate flower of the Shinsengumi, sat atop the tatami mat with her legs crossed like a man as she shoveled rice into her mouth using her chopsticks. He could see that her legs and arms were covered with armor and she wore a polished metal dou over a dark red haori. The shade of red bounced against the natural flush of her skin. If her state of attire wasn't so alarming, it was the blotches of dried blood, dirt, sweat, and – Shinpachi had to narrow his eyes –splintered bamboo chips that elicited his absolute shock.
"Good afternoon, Shinpachi-san. Sanosuke-san. Sannan-san. Inoue-san." She gushed between mouthfuls. Taking several gulps of her tea, she set to work on her vegetables.
"My, my, she has recovered," Sanosuke whistled with incredulous yellow eyes. Making his own scrutiny of her physical appearance, he couldn't deny it was a bit disarming to see the girl in her new battle regalia. Dressed as she was, Chizuru appeared to be a completely different person. He would go so far as to say dangerous. The same could be said of her mentor too.
Senhime handed Chizuru another bowl of rice.
"You need to eat more," she insisted. "It will help replenish your energy."
"Hai."
Shinpachi grew uneasy at the sight of the demon princess, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. Whenever her carmine eyes ghosted over his, the hairs on the back of his neck would prickle and his throat would feel sore again. The sensation was vexing…
Senhime felt the weight of his gaze and returned it with a mischievous look.
"How are you, Nagakura-san?" She asked politely. "Have you been working on your singing pitch?"
Singing pitch? Shinpachi scowled.
Chizuru choked on some rice, her face turning a deep red.
"Chizuru-chan, how is training?" Sannan proffered in a meager attempt to restore conversation in the room.
"It's going great! Senhime is teaching me a lot," Chizuru grinned, her eyes bright despite the blotch of mud on her cheek.
"She's learning how to wield her wakazashi like a true demon," Senhime agreed. She trained her eyes on a dish of vegetables from a nearby tray. She was so hungry.
"Swordplay? Is this true, Chizuru?" Shinpachi pressed with furrowed brows.
Chizuru nodded ecstatically. Hours of constant adrenaline and demon power coursing through her body – mixed with a voracious hunger – made her feel giddy.
"Yes, it was hard at first, but I'm starting to get the hang of it." She smiled, her eyes searching for something else to eat. Seeing her dilemma, Inoue hesitantly offered her his own bowl of rice.
"Oh, really Inoue-san? Thank you so much!" She gushed, taking the bowl from his hand and downing its contents swiftly.
Inoue gave an ambiguous laugh.
"Girls, I found a spare tray of rice balls in the kitchen," Kimigiku called from outside. "We can take them with us back to the lodge."
"Kimi-chan, you clever and beautiful kunoichi,you! How excellent," Senhime rejoiced.
To Chizuru she asked, "What do you say? Ready to give it another go?"
Swiping her mouth in attempt to rid it of stray rice kernels, Chizuru took a hearty breath.
"I'm ready," she nodded.
With the same amount of formality that they had arrived, Senhime and Chizuru dashed through the room and jumped off the veranda disappearing after the kunoichi carrying the tray of divine nourishment. Their dramatic exit left the room in a momentary, awkward state of pause.
"Was that the same Chizuru?" Shinpachi hedged tentatively, jabbing a thumb toward the entrance. "She seems so…different."
"It appears Senhime is wasting no time in taking advantage of Kondou's orders," Sanosuke murmured as he stroked his lip in thought. "How do you suppose Hijikata-san will react to this?"
All occupants in the room responded with the same dubious look.
As if you need to ask, they all seemed to scoff.
Sanosuke chuckled.
"Well, this is going to be interesting."
A/N: Ah, this chapter was so much fun to write. I've been conceptualizing the lunchroom scene ever since I laid out the framework for this story. It felt so good to finally commit it to words. Oh, and the blood seal scene. That was fun too. I did a bit of research on Suzuka Gozen to prevent any crossed boundaries with regard to Senhime's demon sword and ended up learning a lot of neat stuff. Namely, Suzuka was a beautiful battle maiden betrothed to a demon prince, but she fell in love with a human. It's just as Senhime tells it, folks. The power of love overcomes all adversity.
Also, it was fun to write from Kimigiku and Shinpachi's perspectives. Kimigiku is forever watchful, while Shinpachi tends to always be the voice of dissent.
Here is the soundtrack that inspired this chapter:
"Mermaids" – Hans Zimmer (Chizuru's Blood Seal scene)
"Entering the Stronghold" – Denny Schneidemesser (Senhime/Chizuru duel)
"Fire Bending Training" – Mark Zuckerman (Senhime/Chizuru duel)
"Lyra, Roger and Billy" – Alexandre Desplat (Lunchroom Scene)
Thank you so much for reading, everyone. Those reviews are the highlight of my day! Another chapter is in the works, so stay tuned.
girliebird