Street Sweeping Chapter – Part II
February 2017
The winter carries on with the howling of the wind and the haze of the falling snow. A blizzard shrouds the valley hamlet in a sheet of white for weeks on end. For Shirakawa-go, this means and increased sense of isolation – but for Ono District as a whole, it also means a calming of a period that was rife with scandal, protest and riot.
His home is now the fringes of that vast basin, buried away in the woods. A place that was secluded, but not quite hidden. People came past the old hut poised on the edge of a cliff to mutter to themselves about the unknown hermit that lived within, sometimes children even came to dare each other or play pranks. Rika was apparently effective enough on her own at driving them all away, though with his presence the children naturally stayed away. Occasionally Rika would wander from the hut to look for food, or sometimes to hang around the school building looking for random kids that would waste their time talking to her. But naturally, no one knew who she was, and if anyone happened upon him, they were just as ignorant.
Aside from those scarce interruptions, what embodies this new life of his in the beginning is a profound peace and quiet. Something that naturally didn't exist in the city. Of course the city boy finds the countryside refreshing, but for Kanbei Maebara it meant something else entirely.
This was where his world that ended, but also where it would begin again. For that to happen, however, a great deal of effort and some ingenuity was required. Especially for a man with one leg and a handful of missing fingers.
"Again."
He stumbles through the snow, using the glorified stick in his right hand to support his iron leg. His goal is to strike the practice dummy mounted at the center of the largely uncleared ditch he was standing in nine times, without getting hit by any of the stones that Rika was throwing at him from about ten feet away. Needless to say, it wasn't as though his new leg was anything like the old one – he had control up to the knee, but as for the rest it was hardly convenient, and he had to account for and make adjustments on the fly as needed. Somewhere in his head he'd imagined that the prosthetic would have nerves of its own, but alas. She'd given him a practice sword, one of the old classic ones made out of wood. He'd have killed someone for a baseball bat.
As soon as he starts again, she lobs one right at the joint, hard enough to cause it to lurch in a direction he doesn't want when he moves. He doesn't manage a single hit.
Then he sneezes. "Even if I didn't have all this metal shit strapped on, it's too damn cold."
"Quit whining. You spent some time in the house by the shrine, didn't you? I sure know I didn't spend any money on a heater for that place. Got so used to the summer heat that we never needed one."
"Yeah, but that was a long time ago. And I definitely don't remember Shirakawa getting this cold."
"Hi-na-mi-za-wa."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Try again."
"Is this really the best dummy you could find? It doesn't even have any arms. There's too few places to hit." Plus, he couldn't effectively use the dummy itself as a shield from her rock throwing.
"If I stuck a green wig on it you'd have no trouble at all."
"That's true."
"And it's your training, so it's not like I could've strung you up instead."
"That's also true." A few seconds later it clicks. "Wait."
She lets out a bellowing laugh like an old man and throws another rock straight for his face. He ducks it pretty easily – one thing he was pretty good with at this point was squatting down. The pain from the plates pressing up against his surgical wounds was a bit annoying but already nothing compared to what it had been only weeks ago. He strikes the dummy at the base.
Rika's next throw is naturally straight for his legs. He's had a good amount of practice, so he's able to jump this one and tap the dummy on the side. The muscle in his left leg has built up a lot especially from all the practice in the snow. For a cripple, the real goal of any jump is to make sure that the landing doesn't mess up his prosthetic. If he didn't land perfectly straight and put pressure on the wrong point, he could damage the artificial padding in place of his foot. They key to doing that he found was to be able to rotate the prosthetic calf and foot at will, which he managed with straps he'd put together himself that snaked up his side and were firmly wrapped around his right arm for easy control.
Only moments after he lands, he has to favor the left leg even more as Rika's third rock hurtles towards his torso – the goal of this one is to put him in a position where he can't do much of anything vertically and has to move despite the snow without tripping up. This time he jabs the dummy with the end of the sword, counting as a third strike, and applying as much pressure as he can on it tries to jump backward, steadying himself with the dummy and the sword. He maintains his balance, but his right leg slides out a little bit. He's been moving around enough and flattening out the snow to the point where his foot padding is already totally embedded with snow and starting to slide on the flatter surface. He twists the foot inward in order to compensate using the straps, without looking down.
It's precisely then that she throws another rock, this one a lot larger than the others. This one for his head, he manages to narrowly avoid it and correct his leg's positioning at the same time. The fourth strike once again comes from the side.
There's a bit of a delay between the fourth strike and her next throw, one that he very much notices as the seconds tick by with nothing being thrown. Uncertainly he considers going in for a fifth strike but refrains. At that moment the dummy shakes briefly. Then, the center opens up revealing a hidden arm that swings out hard enough to knock him off his balance when it hits. He blocks with the sword – still technically a hit on his part, but as he tries to steady himself he lurches forward, and Rika's next rock smacks his shoulder.
"That was pretty good, huh? I installed that myself." She proclaims with her hands on her hips and a smug grin.
"That sucked. That was the worst thing."
She frowns and her face falls as she starts sulking on the spot. "Mii..."
"Stop doing that. You don't sound cute. You're like forty years old."
"Fuck you. That really made me sad."
"And don't you dare use the 'if that was real' excuse."
"You know, if that was a real fight, you'd be dead right now."
Rika was yet another woman that he'd gotten way too used to having off the wall conversations with. In her case though, most of what came out of her mouth was in one way or another an insult. Having to go out in public looking like some kind of a gremlin might've justified it a bit, but even so, she had a snide remark for just about everything like she was born to it. His impression from his aunt was that she was an exceptionally kind girl that looked after the people she cared about. But the real thing was quite a bit different.
But whatever had happened – that was her business. He wasn't about to start asking her about it. Or really why she was so adamant about calling this village Hinamizawa as well. Having been in solitude for so long she might've just been a little deranged.
But just as quickly as she's casually making fun of him, her focus changes to far more important things. "Someone's coming. Get your mask."
He wastes no time. Off to the side buried partially in the snow is a wooden fox mask, which he dons without another word. A moment later he can hear the footsteps in the snow from further away. He steps out of the ditch and onto the cleared patch, leaning against a nearby tree.
"That's some elderly hearing you've got."
"I can make the dummy swing lower, you know."
"No dick, remember?"
"Ahh, that's right."
"How many are there, you think?"
"If you're asking me that you can guess yourself."
Ultimately, two men step out of the woods – one with black hair dressed head to toe in a needlessly bright red suit, the other had red hair to match, but was a lot more plainly dressed in a white dress shirt with some slacks and a winter coat. As the two of them approach Kanbei steps away from the tree, blocking their path to Rika.
"Ahhh, it's Okonogi-san. And you – you're the boyfriend right?" Rika sighs. "I didn't forget to pay my taxes, right?"
"Actually I think it's been husband for awhile, hasn't it Akira-kun?" The gaudy man looks over at the man standing next to him.
"I do go by Kimiyoshi now, yes." He speaks curtly. "And no, this isn't anything like that."
Apparently, Rika Furude not being dead was one of the most awkwardly kept secrets in Shirakawa-go. The village leadership knew she wasn't dead, even if they'd told just about everyone else that she was and had accordingly stripped her of all land and titles. Thus it was pretty obvious - anyone that came out here looking for her, that could also recognize her on sight, had to have been pretty high up on the food chain. And naturally, this man was part of one of the three great families, just like Rika herself had been.
"Then is this guy gonna pop a machete out of all that hair?" She points at Okonogi.
"C'mon Rika-chan, this is a way better hairstyle." Okonogi fires right back with a toothy smile.
"I don't think we've been acquainted." Akira looks towards Kanbei, trying to puzzle him out from a single glance. "I'm Akira Kimiyoshi. The head of the family is my wife, Natsumi."
Kanbei flashes him the peace sign, resting against the tree. "Noro. Don't have a family name."
"Where'd you find this one?" Okonogi pries, eyeing him curiously. It makes sense – after all in this situation he was the bodyguard on the opposing side. While Kimiyoshi might've thought he'd let his guard down, there's no way that Okonogi had.
"Hida City used to be open season for orphans before Satoshi-kun took over. Kids age out, end up on the street, you know how it is."
"Furude-san, I'm sorry to have to cut to the chase like this, but Natsumi – she wants to see you."
"And she sent you out here to get me? Well this doesn't bode well."
"You don't have to respond right away. We'd like to have you up at the Kimiyoshi estate at the end of the month for our leadership meeting."
"Should I bring the body bag with me? I heard we're recycling those things these days. Gotta respect the environment."
"The Furude family should be brought back into the fold. That's Natsumi's idea. She wants to show the entire council that you're alive."
"Huh. Does that mean I get to take a funny picture posing with my death certificate?"
"I thought you'd be more surprised, Rika-chan." Okonogi grins.
"These are some pretty rough times, right? We've got to dig up all the fear of a higher power we can to make it through a power struggle."
"I don't get your meaning."
"The new Sonozaki head cut you guys off, right? Or was that the other ruling family in this village?"
"Natsumi's feelings are the same that they've always been. It wasn't right to leave everything in the hands of Mion's people."
"Woah, that's a pretty treasonous statement."
"To your point, there's no longer a Sonozaki family representative within the council." Just from the way he talked, this Akira came off like a real stalwart protector. It was almost enough to make Kanbei vomit, and he could tell from his level of disinterest that Okonogi felt much the same way.
"And so what now?"
"We're prepared to turn over the Furude Shrine and the surrounding grounds back to the original owner in exchange for your cooperation on this. We need unity in this village and that doesn't happen without the houses reuniting and many of our abandoned traditions being restored."
"That's awfully nice of you. But do you have even the first idea where she is?"
"Given the… Circumstances, the property should go to the next of kin."
"And someone decided that was me? Man, what a pain in the ass. I was just starting to enjoy my hundred yen rent too."
"I take it that you're turning down the invitation, then."
"She's accepting it, Akira-kun." Okonogi says, trying his best to stifle a laugh.
"R-Really…?"
"But it won't be this month. I need to hibernate for the rest of the winter." Rika adds.
"Then we'll see you for our meeting in early March." Akira replies a little quickly, seemingly fed up with her constant stream of throwing shit in his face.
"I'll make sure to be fashionably late."
With that the two of them were off back the way they came, Akira storming off a little faster than Okonogi cared to keep up with.
"What's your take?" Rika asks once the two are gone from earshot.
"On Kimiyoshi? He was trying to hide it but he could've handled me on his own."
"Yep. Okonogi's wasting his time with him. Maybe the wife demanded it. Actually, knowing her she probably did. That girl doesn't like violence. Pretty ironic if you ask me."
"What was that about Sonozaki, though?"
"The old estate is actually mostly abandoned now. They carved out a chunk of land up in the mountains and they're trying to fortify it. I heard some vague nonsense from the kids at the school about a flood. They don't want anyone up there, even from the other families. Without the Sonozaki name hanging over everyone, it sounds like Kimiyoshi wants to start leaning into the old religion instead."
"Sounds like Sonozaki's looking to make a whole new village on top of the old one."
"They're in no shape for that. But they'll get there eventually if something isn't done." She reaches into her robe and pulls something out, tossing it into the snow by his feet.
It's a revolver, and an old looking one too. Upon closer inspection, he knows exactly what kind, too. It's a New Nambu M60, the same Oishi touted around with him day after day. The revolver itself was probably older than either one of them, too.
"That's the lightest I've got. Practice on the dummy with that until you can shoot it from the hip with your eyes shut."
"What kind of shinobi uses guns?"
"The kind that can't use one leg."
"I'm figuring that part out."
"Even then your reflexes still suck. Your lower half might be shot, but the upper half can and should be working twice as hard to make up for that."
She has a point. The real question was – could his upper half keep up?
It had been awhile since he'd touched a gun, but by the end of the day he'd managed to at least figure out shooting from the hip. But in all honesty, his mind had spent most of the day elsewhere, focusing on their late evening visit to what had once been the Maebara house.
Sure enough, just as Rika had said, what was left of it was the rubble of a once smoldering ruin. The second floor was partially intact, but after so many months had passed much of what had been inside was either looted or simply washed away by the change of the seasons. In July the entire property had been torched, and there was remarkably little left afterward. Today was his first day visiting it.
He pokes around the rubble searching for anything that might've survived, Rika watching him from a good distance away. The charred leftovers of an old desk had survived – the contents are fairly unremarkable, mostly old clothes that were dirtied or torn beyond any real use. It was pretty evident – if there was anything left that he could've found, it was taken away. It didn't exactly suspend his disbelief to think that Sayaka had set this fire herself.
Eventually Rika makes her way over to him. "There wasn't a whole lot still here anyway."
"My uncle wanted me to take this house back."
"Well, I will admit, I'm not sure what was going through his head when he bought you that deed."
After that, a thick silence follows. Rika had been adamant about his uncle's deception from the beginning. But even now, months later, he refused to believe it. That didn't change the nature of their relationship much, however – after all, she wasn't just his source of piss bags. There was a great deal that only she could do for him, including the eventual removal of the iron plates from his lower abdomen.
"So what are you going to do? Are you going to go chasing after him?"
"I can't do that now."
"No, you really can't. But who knows – maybe you'll get all the answers your looking for somewhere down the line anyway."
"Part of that is you holding up your end of the deal."
"Yep, I haven't forgotten."
"Can you at least tell me one thing?"
"Depends on what it is."
"Who was it – the 'original owner' of the shrine that Kimiyoshi was talking about?"
Following that there's a long pause. He's about to open his mouth to tell her to forget it. He was overstepping his boundary anyway.
"That was Hinoka. My daughter." There's a huge amount of weight behind those words, even though her tone of voice is the same.
"Wait, you had sex? Like, with another human?"
"Yeah, I was pretty good at it too."
"I feel bad for the father."
"You should. Poor thing couldn't walk for a day after our first time." She's not really smiling, but her face has relaxed a lot.
"And he wasn't another super midget?"
"Why am I getting the feeling that we're having squirrel for dinner…?"
"Alright, I'm sorry."
"My Suguru was a better man than you've got any shot at being, I'll tell you that much."
"Then, maybe it really is your home we need to take back."
"You want me to go to that dumb council meeting? I'm bringing you along, you know. And those things are boring as hell."
"I've got a feeling this one won't be."
She smiles a little bit. "You shouldn't be so used to hanging around questionable people."
The two of them stand there among the ruins of the Maebara house as the sun sets. Somewhere at the end of all of this was that notion – freedom, the ultimate reward of fighting for what one values. What really only remained to be seen, is what would be lost along the way.
But part of him was ready for that. He'd thrown away all hesitation and walked this path of his own free will. He might not have been ready for what was ahead, but he still had to face it all the same.
Rule V. Kanbei Maebara always becomes Rika Furude's shinobi.