A huge thank you to everyone who took the time to read the first part. I appreciate the support. Seeing so many people stop by surprised me, especially considering I'm showing what life is like in a simple Hoshidan town before war erupts between Nohr and Hoshido.
As ever, I hope you enjoy the next chapter. It's a long one.
Part I - Coming of Age | Chapter II - Dedication
You sit down at the dinner table. Mother already waits for you with breakfast prepared. You eye the simple meal of rice, shredded cabbage and a side of miso with a gracious smile. A steaming cup of green tea sits beside it, also. Rubbing your hands together eagerly, you look to your matriarch.
Seeing her home when she is usually out at the shrine by now is a pleasant surprise, all told.
"Your duties at the shrine aren't essential this morning, I take it?" you ask
Mother shakes her head. "No, they aren't. Miss Ruka sent a messenger whom told me those we treated yesterday are on the mend. So, I took the day off so I might finish preparing for our house guests this afternoon."
"I see, I see." You nod shortly. Sights drifting downward to your bowl of steaming hot food, your stomach gurgles impatiently.
Mother chuckles sweetly, raising a hand to her lips for a moment. "Somebody is certainly hungry this morning."
Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Again your stomach growls, and even louder. "Perhaps a little, yes."
Leaning across the table, Mother touches a caring hand to your shoulder. "Shall we say prayers so we can begin?"
"I'd like that, yes," you answer with a short chuckle. You'll pray with double the diligence if it means tucking into the delicious breakfast before you.
Withdrawing her hand, Mother lowers onto her cushion. "Alright then, I shall start." Clasping her hands together, she closes her eyes. You follow her lead, so you might support her in prayer. "Oh kind and beloved Light Dragon, we thank you again this morning for fair weather and a good meal. May your light continue to guide us as the dawn turns to noon."
"And when the sun again sets, we shall be grateful for the day," you add with feeling.
"Wonderfully put, dear."
"Thank you." You re-open your eyes and part your hands, as does Mother. Then, picking up your chopsticks, you tuck into breakfast. As ever, the rice is fluffy and delicious. The shredded cabbage and pinch of seasoning salt Mother adds always gives a lovely little kick.
"Oh yes, somebody is certainly hungry," Mother chuckles. "Worry not, dear. I made enough for an extra bowl this morning."
Hearing there's more to enjoy, you slow your scoffing.
Mother simply smiles. "Good, we wouldn't want you choking before your patrol."
Patrol's mention sparks a thought to life, an errand you have to run. You set down your bowl and sip from your tea, and then you fold your hands into your lap. "What day is it today, if you'd be so kind as to remind me? I've been so busy with everything recently I've totally forgotten."
"Why it's the seventeenth today, dear," Mother reminds you kindly. "Why, is there something you must do-" Her gentle expression turning gloomy with realization, she exhales gently. "Oh, it's that day again, isn't it?"
A nervy twinge grips your stomach for an instant. "It certainly is... Miss Miko's tribute demands payment."
Mother sighs deeply and shakes her head. "That poor girl, she deserves better..." Expression radiating worry, she places one of her hands atop yours. "What you do for her is just and noble, but do be careful with her mistress. She is a woman who cares little for the good of others."
"I will, Mother, I will," you pledge sincerely. "Like you said, though, her being bound is all the more reason I do what I do. It falls to those of us with reasonable means to help those who cannot help themselves, that's the Hoshidan way." You release your gloom in an outward breath and nod shortly. "It's just a shame so many don't always follow the royal family's example of kindness and compassion - they really should."
"Some walk an honest path and stumble, others care not to walk that road at all," Mother imparts most wisely. "Just as I imagine there being many Nohrians whom don't believe in Garon's teachings of brute strength and conquest."
You scoff most cynically. "I'm not sure I believe that as far as the Nohrians are concerned."
"Then you yet have plenty to learn, my dear boy." Mother shifts her hand from atop yours and cups your cheek tenderly. Her soft brown eyes radiate warmth and compassion "Our world is not a simple place of black and white: you would do well to remember that."
Mother's words leave you muddled. "...I don't quite get it."
"You will in time, I'm sure." Mother withdraws her hand and places both in her lap. "For now though, don't neglect your breakfast."
Sage advice. "Yes, ma'am." Eyes down, you attack your rice bowl with renewed vigor.
Mother's prior words bring pause toward the bottom of the bowl, however.
"...As I imagine there being many Nohrians whom don't believe in Garon's teachings of brute strength and conquest..."
The day you clutched Father's sword in the rain flashes through your thoughts - a dagger through your heart. Guided by that pain, you dismiss the notion of kinder Nohrians with a stern shake of the head and return to your breakfast with twice the enthusiasm.
To be a Hoshidan samurai is to fell those whom would bring grief to the innocent. That is why you became a warrior.
Lunch having long-since passed and your patrol finished, your errand awaits.
You didn't entirely understand Shikori Street three years ago. Now, you are not so sheltered from the world. It is a place of relief and satisfaction for those with the means and the coin. Sake. Artful dance. Beautiful women and handsome men. Dice and gambling, too. This single long street, with an understandably seedier reputation than you first realized as a child, meets most of Izami's adult needs.
Pausing at the top of the cobblestone road, you touch a hand to your katana's hilt. Your father's trusted weapon and a sign of your recent coming of age; it remains belted firmly to your hip almost all of the time. It likewise serves as your badge of office as a samurai.
Rows of cramped wooden drinking houses line both sides of the street ahead, all while people aplenty come and go along the cobblestone road running through its middle. Groups of men - both older and younger - sit around crude straw mats outside several sake dens and play games of dice and cards. They bicker and shout crass insults at one-another between exchanging silver coins and showing cards. Young ladies adorning colorful robes loiter close by, all the while. With alluring whispers and sweetened words, they eagerly whisk the winners of these games into the dens that employ them.
Pottery shatters against the ground all too loudly, the sound rising above the chattering of those indulging games of chance. You turn your gaze to the street's left-hand side to meet the ruckus' origin. Two bald-headed, flushed-faced men adorning tatty robes size each other up with raised fists.
"You gonna pay for that, you bastard?!" one of the drunkards snaps, pushing into the other's face.
"And supposing I don't?" the second fires back obnoxiously.
Another nearby samurai - as indicated by the colored sash tied around the waist of his trousers - steps between the two men and pushes them apart. He's a fresh-faced lad not much older than you are. His name is Maru, if you remember rightly. "That's quite enough, you two," he tells the rowdy duo sternly. He then looks between the two and flashes warning glances. "Start something out in the street and it'll be a trip to the magistrate's office for the both of you."
"But that bastard spilled my sake!" shouts the man left of Maru, pointing an accusing finger.
"I don't care who spilled whose darn drink. Head on into one of the dens if you're going to get noisy, you hear me?"
Both men grumble drunken nothings under their breath. A moment or so passes, and then the fellow to Maru's left extends a hand to his drinking companion. "Fair enough, I'll buy you another one, you old lout. Just don't spill it this time!"
"Fine, fine," the tipsy fellow right of Maru accepts, both men shaking hands. "I'll let you off." The pair share a hearty laugh from their stomachs thereafter and stagger on into the sake den nearest them.
"And get a damn hostess out here to clean up this mess!" Maru orders the two with a roll of his eyes. Soon realizing they are long gone and aren't coming back, he exhales his frustration kicks the cobblestones. "Those oafs, next time they're getting a fine..."
Laughing under your breath, you start down the street. "Another day in Shikori."
Tobacco's all too familiar scent wafts from the door of each sake den you pass. The smell grows on you with age, though you don't partake yourself. Several tall cups of warm sake are more your poison of choice, and even moreso when they're served by a pretty girl. One particular girl, in fact.
You're lovely lady in her striking red Kimono.
You squeeze around a middle-aged woman and a pink yukata-clad hostess linked by the arm. Then you step off the street and approach a particular sake den's doorway. This drinking house sits quite near Shikori Street's western end. As such, it is a recent build compared to many others. The wood looks newer and fresher. The banner hanging over residence balcony on the first floor is clean and only sports one or two holes in its kanji lettering, also. Unlit lanterns hang from a pair of hooks to both sides of the sliding doorway, and an unoccupied drinking table sits on the grass by the decking.
Glancing up at the den's banner, you tut and shake your head. "Only you have ego enough to name a den after yourself, Miss Keiko."
Keiko's Den. Perhaps one Shikori's more well-known sake dens despite being younger. The owner after which the venue shares its name owns several lots across the town's pleasure drag. Chief among them are a large boarding house for her girls, an inexpensive inn with a reputation for accommodating quick flings, and a dice hall for wealthier gamblers. Rumour has it Miss Keiko used funds from her various businesses to purchase a warehouse building by the merchant's quarter as of late, as well. You've had little reason nor personal errands over there recently, and so you haven't looked into it yourself.
"Out of the way, please," says a young lassie with a hurried undertone, snapping you from your thoughts. One of Keiko's girls stands in the doorway, sporting a rather inexotic grey robe with white floral patterning. Her face is youthful and rounded with a love mark dotting her left cheek. In her arms, she holds a newborn baby swaddled in blankets. Realization glinting in her eyes, she smiles for you. "Oh, it's Miko's boytoy. Afternoon, Keiji."
You step back to allow the girl past. She thanks you with a quick nod. Carefully traversing the steps, she sits down at the drinking table.
"And a good afternoon to you, Miss Nami," you answer with a bow of the head.
"Polite as always," the lassie hums, rocking the baby in her arms gently. "Here to check in on the golden girl again, are we?" she asks without looking up from the bundle of joy in her arms. "She's certainly missed you these past couple of days, that's for sure."
"The same as always, yes."
"You know the rules then, handsome." Nami glances over to you, and then gestures toward the tabletop with her eyes. "Disarm before you go in."
You untie the belt that fastens the katana to your robe and remove the weapon. Unburdened, you place the sheathed sword on the table beside Nami. Tying your belt again, you look to the baby held protectively within her embrace. "I didn't know you'd had a daughter, Nami."
"Oh, she isn't mine," the hostess chuckles, turning her eyes upward to you. Her cheeks pinkening slightly, she gifts you an endearing smile. "This little miss belongs to Madame Keiko's eldest niece. I'm just looking after her while she runs some errands over at the magistrate's office."
"Ah, I see." You fold your arms and smirk smugly, leaning nearer Nami. "And just who is your mistress paying off this time?" you ask in a low, sarcastic tone.
"Nobody, for a change," she giggles.
"Well I'll be." You lean away and straighten up. "So we won't be seeing any new dens being built or rival houses knocked down?"
"Nope." Nami shakes her head. "I hear she's sent her niece over there to finalize the land tax on the new warehouse."
"So that one's true then, about the warehouse?"
"From what I overheard while passing her office, yes."
As ever, Shikori's rumour mill carries weight. Impressed by the amount of coin at play, you whistle. "Mistress Moneybags strikes again."
Nami half stifles a snort of laughter. "Don't let her hear you calling her that," she winks. "We wouldn't want her upping your tribute for Miko."
"A fair point," you concede with a nod. "And speaking of which." You reach into the pocket of your gray swordsman's robe and bring out a little pouch of silver coins. You rattle it and smile somewhat thinly. "It's that time of year again."
Nami exhales deeply and shakes her head. "...I can't stand the way the Madame hangs you over a barrel like that."
You toss and catch the coin purse. Then you slip it safely away again. "I'd rather pay a retainer than see Miko groped and hit again."
"You do know that your sponsoring her makes some of the other girls jealous, right?"
You turn partway back to the street behind. Pouring rain and biting cold sweep away the warm sunshine and lively scenes - a memory reborn. You see yourself kneeled outside of this very venue. Tears stream from your eyes. Clutching Father's sword in two trembling hands, you're absolutely wet through.
Pain hangs heavy in your chest like no other. It feels as real now as it did on that day three long years ago.
The agony is enough that you want to die. You feel lost, hurt, and betrayed.
Then, a goddess donning a red kimono arrives. "Whatever is the matter, young man?"
She shields you from the rain with her parasol, and mends your ailing heart with a kiss.
You blink away the bittersweet memory, clutching a hand to your chest for a second.
"I care not for the money, Nami. Nor do I care about petty squabbles. Miko's safety is my only concern."
"Awwww!" Nami chimes warmly, practically glowing at your admission. "Well aren't you a sweetheart? An upstanding gentleman warrior through and through."
You shake your head. "Not really. I merely value those dear me."
"Well whatever the case, it's always nice seeing you, Keiji."
You bow for the hostess. "And you, Miss Nami. Now, might you tell me where Miko is?"
Nami shoots a glance toward the sake den's doors. "She's in Miss Keiko's office. They're already waiting for you."
You breathe in and out to steady yourself. Dealing with Madame Keiko is far from pleasurable most of the time. "Alright then." You break away from Nami and stroll up the front steps. Pausing in the doorway, you look to her one more time. "See you later."
"And you, Keiji."
Patrons pack out Miss Keiko's den, as ever. Men and women sit on cushions around tightly crammed circular tables. Only a couple of small windows dotted around the hall provide any natural light of ventilation, and cheap candles illuminate many tables. As a result, the place is exceedingly gloomy, and a tobacco smog hangs in the air. All the while, Keiko's girls, some dressed up in lavish kimono (and others rather plainly) serve drinks and entertain the patrons through conversation and song. Laughter and chatter thicken the already dense and smoky air.
Pausing, you cough, pat your chest, and continue on your way toward the back room.
A couple of the serving girls do their best to step aside for you. One particular miss holding a tray of cups even grabs onto you for balance as you near her. The poor girl looks about your age, and wears a glum expression. You pause for her, so she might steady her footing.
You lean near her ear once she's balanced. "Are you alright there, Miss?"
"I am now sir," she answers with a grateful outward breath. "Just one more table and I'm done for the day."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"Hmm. At least somebody in this place treats me nicely," she utters into your ear in a muted tone.
"It's the least I can do."
"You're Miss Miko's boyfriend, right?"
"Not quite. But we're close."
The lassie sighs. "She's lucky to have a sponsor. I wish I had one..."
"Meet the right person someday and you just might."
"One can only hope. Anyway, I'd better get these drinks to the table before they lose their temper. Have nice stay, sir."
You highly doubt you will given you're here to see Keiko. You nod regardless though.
Removing her hand from your shoulder, the young server carefully heads over to her table. You watch from the corner of your eye. Kneeling, she hands out drinks to the patrons and bows her head deeply for them. Content with her remaining unaccosted, you turn your sights to the back room again.
A living mountain of a man obscures the entryway to Keiko's office with a stoic face and folded arms. Built strong with fat and muscle both, he sports a rather fancy dyed-black linen waistcoat, matching sumo pants, and wooden sandals. An ornate chopstick holds his hair in place. You arrive in front of the fellow and hold fast. He towers over you by more than a foot as though a living goliath.
"Afternoon, Taro," you greet the door guard.
Taro stares into you intensely for several moments. He hums thoughtfully, and then unfolds his massive tree-like arms. "Business with Miss Keiko?" His voice is deep and powerful in ways that could well strike fear into the hearts of those unfamiliar with him.
"Indeed." You take out the coin purse from your robe's inside pocket and bounce it in your palm a couple of times. "I'm here for Miko's stipend."
The monstrous sumo steps aside for you and refolds his arms. "The boss is waiting for you. Before you go in though, where's your sword?"
"Nami's out front with it. Fret not there, my broad-shouldered friend, I'm unarmed," you assure with a smirk.
"Good answer. Go on in."
You part the curtain and do just that.
Miss Keiko's office is small but no less luxurious. Scrolls depicting warrior women in various poses and brandishing many different weapons decorate the walls. An oaken writing desk clearly of foreign origin sits in the room's middle. Piled up on its sides are papers, ledgers and books. Only the spot in the middle remains unoccupied by documents and the like. A bookcase of similar design sits against the back wall. String-bound tomes fill its rows.
Somehow, the air is even thicker with smoke in here than the hall outside.
An older woman of short stature and a head of thick grayed hair occupies the chair behind the desk. Her face is weathered with time though lacks many wrinkles. She holds a look of concentration while gazing through thick-rimmed glasses at the face of an open scroll. A rather lavish cream-hued kimono hugs her dainty frame. Floral patterns weaved of black silken thread decorate the garment's body. Then there is the woman's jewellery. A string necklace (likely also silken) and silver talisman hang around her neck. A symbol of wealth and prosperity for those well connected with merchants and the like.
This is Madame Keiko – a woman with influence spanning much of Shikori Street and beyond.
Standing beside her with hands folded nearly in her lap, is Miko. Today she wears her more casual plain white robe and heeled sandals. She has pulled her lovely dark locks into a loose ponytail, and an ornate butterfly clip rests nicely at one side of her head.
The girl smiles affectionately at you. Then she looks to her mistress and touches a hand to her shoulder. "Madame Keiko, you have a visitor."
"I heard him come in girl," the older woman answers with an irritated undertone. "Do not think me deaf."
Miko lowers her head apologetically and shrinks a step away. "Forgive me, Mistress."
You stifle the urge to cough because of the smoke. Folding your arms, you lean yourself by the door.
"I know what day it is, young man," Keiko addresses you. Humming somewhat bleakly, she closes the scroll in front of her. She then pauses for several moments, massages her temples, and looks up at you from her spot at the desk. Her eyes, magnified somewhat by her glasses, fixate upon the drawstring coin purse clutched within your palm. "The seventeenth day of the eleventh month for the previous two years."
Unfolding your arms, you push off from your spot. "I agreed to your terms, and so I am here." You open the drawstring bag and pour its silver contents out onto the writing desk. "Twenty-five silver coins in exchange for Miko's softer treatment while she works the halls."
"I am well aware, boy," Keiko remarks between counting her tribute. Slowly, she places each tallied coin into the palm of her bony hand. "With matters regarding the one behind me you are like clockwork." Accounting the last coin, she sets the pile back down on the table. She then looks into your eyes with deep contemplation and links her fingers into a clasp. "I will admit to being mildly impressed by your commitment, if slightly dismayed."
The Madame unlinks her fingers. Reaching an arm out to the side, she snaps the digits of her right hand. Miko takes a cautious step forward and bows.
"While she may have been darling beyond compare to your innocent child's eye, Miko is hardly looked upon with favor by my patrons," Keiko remarks with a half-cackle while producing a pipe from behind a stack of papers. "In fact, she is viewed as somewhat plain and uninteresting when compared to a great many of my girls."
An irritated shiver crawls up the base of your spine. "...Then why keep her in servitude as you have?"
"Because every girl is an investment - even the uninteresting ones," Keiko reasons, sparking her pipe with a careful ember from the fingertip. Taking a deep drag and exhaling, she leans into the back of her chair. "And also because this particular woman holds great personal value to you, a journeyman samurai with surprisingly deep pockets. Although..." Keiko tightens her gaze. "...I do wonder just how much deeper those pockets are."
You clench your hand into a fist in a bid to calm your rising temper. "Dare I ask what you are implying, Madame?"
"Nothing, Keiji. Nothing at all. I am merely noting your exceptional commitment. After all, paying the initial fee securing Miko's right to her virginity was already costly enough for you, I imagine. Low-level investment or no, my girls are the farthest things from grubby Nohrian harlots."
Hotter and hotter you burn, your fist trembling. "...All the more reason she be given the right to choose whom she gives such a gift."
"Mistress, please," Miko speaks up, bowing deeply, "must you upset poor Keiji so?"
"Quiet there, girl," Keiko commands, raising a hand to silence her younger ward. "I am merely making a point."
"Your point being?" you press somewhat bitterly.
"That I do not understand why you do not simply buy the girl's freedom at this point. Light Dragon knows, you already lash substantial coin caring for her."
Miko gasps gently, clutching a hand to her chest at the mere mention of freedom.
"Because I was under the impression Miko's release from service wasn't up for debate," you answer, recalling a previous discussion.
Keiko takes another strong drag from her pipe and exhales. She then wheezes; pats her chest softly, and resumes: "It wasn't for a boy pretending to be a man some two years ago. However, I believe you have proven worthy of entertaining the discussion now." The aged matriarch looks to Miko. "Fetch me an inkbrush and a scroll." She then sets her sights on you once more. They glint with calculating glee. "I think it is time Keiji and I talked of your future."
"Y-Yes, Mistress Keiko." Miko bows and hurries out of the office.
With Miko out of the room, you stare most hatefully at her mistress.
The old woman merely chuckles sardonically. "...I am eager to see just how much further you are willing to go."
"As far as it takes."
"We shall see, Keiji. We shall see."
Miko has brought a chair for you on Keiko's instruction. A bottle of sake, too.
The matriarch's hospitality does little to make you feel at home, however.
Sipping from your cup of warm rice wine, you watch Keiko artfully write between pausing for occasional looks at one of her ledgers. Miko stands at your side now and rests one of her dainty hands upon your shoulder. A comforting gesture to keep your sometimes-intense temperament cool, no doubt.
A couple of hours having passed now, the main hall has quieted and the whole venue seems a lot calmer. The usual lul before the night-time crowds.
Sadly, the laid-back atmosphere only heightens your tension. Keiko is a shrewd woman through and through. You do not trust she will make any such discussion regarding Miko's personal freedom easy for you. Especially since both you and she desire it so.
"Tell me, Keiji," begins Keiko after many minutes of quiet writing, "how goes your training under the old man?"
"It goes well."
"I'll bet it does. Roku was always a stubborn one. A samurai through and through," Keiko chuckles. Pausing, she coughs into one of her hands and then continues writing. "I also hear you were recently initiated into Izami's garrison as a fully-fledged swordsman. Your mother must be proud."
"She is. Although, I do wonder why my recent initiation is of any concern to you," you say between a sip of sake.
"It is important to me because of the things I hear regarding your skills."
"And just what have you heard about me, exactly?" You raise a cautious brow, setting your empty cup back down on the serving tray atop a sturdy stack of books. Miko refills it for you and then returns diligently to your side.
"That you are exceptionally skilled, despite your age," Keiko clarifies, raising her eyes from her scroll and smiling wryly. "They say you are one of the finest single duellists Izami has seen in quite some time, in fact. Although, your competence has also made you somewhat overconfident."
You smile smugly, sipping from your freshly refilled cup. "Master Roku trained me to be the best. Only the best rise through smaller town garrisons to fight in the army. A swordsman has to prove themselves if they wish to take the battle to the Nohrians."
"Mmm-hmm. And there we have it - your desires spelled out plainly. I think I have an even better understanding of you now, young man."
"Oh, do you really?"
"Indeed I do." Keiko lowers her eyes and returns to her writing. "I think it is fair to say your goals are twofold while you yet reside in this town."
You'll humor the old crone. "Go on."
"Firstly, you intend beyond all else to see Miss Miko freed from my servitude. And second, your eyes wander further southward. You wish to leave this place behind and do battle with the Nohrians periodically raiding the coast. Or, you would fight them on their own soil were full-scale war to erupt."
"You are correct, on both fronts."
Miko's breaths hitch and her hand upon your shoulder tightens in its grip. You glance her way, and she wears a worried expression.
"Noble goals," says Keiko. You train your eyes upon her once more. "...Even if the latter is especially foolhardy."
"And just what is foolhardy about it?" you question with a hint of irritation. "There is no greater honor for a warrior than to fight for his country."
"As any swordsman would say before tasting war proper," Keiko chuckles mockingly, shaking her head. "Anyway, I am finished penning the terms for Miko's release. We shall wait for the ink to dry and then you shall make your decision, Keiji."
"Fine by me."
Ten minutes sees the ink on the parchment dried. Keiko has Miko remove the ink and writing brush from the desk. Keiko then turns the paper around and pushes it nearer to you so you might read it. Knitting her fingers together, the older woman eyes you with great intrigue.
"These are my terms."
You lower your eyes to the paper. They widen significantly, and your heartbeat quickens with them.
Before you is an itemized list. A bill of fees and costs pertaining to Miko's living. It is vast and exceedingly costly. It reads:
Lodging Fees - 25 silver (or 5 gold pieces)
Food and Wine Fees - 20 silver (or 4 gold pieces)
Accidental Property Damage - 15 silver (or 3 gold pieces)
Retainership Fee - to be paid in full by the sum of 6 years - 60 silver (or 12 gold pieces)
Tobacco Fee - 15 silver (or 3 gold pieces)
Annual Clothing Fee - 30 silver (or 6 gold pieces)
Final Termination of Contract Fee - 50 Silver (or 10 gold pieces)
Additional Tax - 10 silver (or 2 gold pieces)
Discount of 5% applied for long-term loyalty and sponsorship - Minus 12 silver (or 6 gold pieces)
Final total - 213 silver (or 43 gold pieces)
You sigh exhaustedly and raise your eyes from the paper.
Keiko wears an expression most calculating. "An Agreeable price, wouldn't you say?"
You scoff, your blood almost boiling at the Madame's definition of 'reasonable'. "This is almost two years wages for a journeyman samurai," you grumble, biting down on the corner of your lip. "Then again, I feel you already know that is the case, Miss Keiko."
The old woman smiles almost cruelly at you. "Indeed I do. Just as I am fairly sure you will not pay such a sum up front."
You narrow your eyes and hone your stare with razor sharp intensity, biting back your rage from overflowing with a growl. "Then why waste your time with a charade such as this if you know I cannot pay...? Surely you have better things to do with your day."
"And that is where you are wrong, Keiji. For you see, I have a proposition for you."
A warning ember sparks to life at the back of your mind. "What kind...?"
"The sort that will set Miko free... and also prove profitable for both you and I." Keiko stands from her chair and folds her arms behind her back. She then pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You do not deny your skills, after all, being one of the best despite your age. I wish to put you to the test."
Moment by moment your patience wears thinner. "Speak plainly. Your riddles and facades don't amuse me."
Keiko chuckles scornfully, annoying you further. "Very well, young samurai. I shall explain.
"Some weeks ago I purchased a warehouse from an old silk merchant whom intended to retire. However, I have little need for another building of the sort. My true intention was to convert the building so it might serve another purpose - to entertain those who relish the thrill of battle."
"So the rumours surrounding your buying a building in the Merchant's District weren't rumours after all," you say in a low voice, pondering Keiko's intentions.
"Indeed they were not, Keiji. The old warehouse has been quietly redesigned into a combat arena for the masses. Artisans in my employ have worked tirelessly for close to three weeks to make it happen. Now, the redesign is complete. Once my niece returns from paying the appropriate taxes to the Magistrates Office, Izami will have its first legally recognized venue for combat tourneys. Like Shirasagi, people will come from far and wide to compete."
A shrewd move from Miss Keiko. Dislike her as you might, she is a skilled businesswoman. "And you rake in coin in the process."
The Madame nods. "You are correct, young man. And that is where you come in. I would have you compete as one of my chosen fighters, alongside my trusty door guard, Taro. The two of you will play a part in ensuring the house always wins, so to speak."
Master's words of warning awaken within you. "You need look no further than many of the unfortunate men and women trapped in Keiko's employ, to know her capabilities."
Withdrawing a couple of paces, you fold your arms defensively. "And why should I help you?" you question somewhat scathingly.
"Because I offer you that which you desire most in return: Miss Miko's freedom. Or an opportunity to earn it for her, to be precise."
You glance Miko's way, whom has perched by the doorway behind you since returning from her errand. The two of you share a tender gaze, and then you snap your eyes back to her mistress. You'll remain cautious, for both yours and your cherished friend's sakes. "I'm listening, Madame Keiko."
"Very well. Your ear on this matter is appreciated.
"Now, Keiji, my intention is to have you fight for me semi-regularly, perhaps a few evenings each month. With each battle you win, you will come one step closer to freeing Miko. What's more, you will also receive a small fraction of our nightly profits - about five percent. Win thirty bouts, and I will release Miko from my care. Provided you win three battles for each one you lose, you have no issue. Miko walks one step nearer to freedom and I make good money."
"A challenge of sorts." How very Keiko. There has to be a catch, however. There's always a catch. "And should I lose more than one battle for every three?"
"Then your victory counter returns to zero and you must start again."
The smug side of you somewhat emboldened, you chuckle assuredly. "That confident I'll win, are you?"
"To an extent. Just as I am equally confident that you will persist even if you lose. So, what say you?" Keiko extends one of her small and somewhat creased hands in offering. "Do we have a deal? Will you fight in my employ between your duties as a samurai?"
You're tempted. However, you would know a little more first. "What are rules of combat? Single or double bouts, and are there weapon limitations?"
Keiko withdraws her hand and lowers it to her desk. "Non-lethal hand-to-hand combat styles and magic use only. Wooden sparring weapons are also allowed. Fret not, young Keiji. I intend for this to be a place of excitement and spectacle, not brutal Nohrian blood sport. As such, swordsmen from the local barracks will observe each fight. As for battles, they will be mostly single combat with the occasional double tourney included to attract larger crowds."
As ever, the Madame has everything well in order. "Sounds like you have this figured out rather well."
Extending her hand a second time, Keiko chuckles in agreement. "You do not get as far as I have without calculating one's options and running numbers. I have done business in this region since before your father's birth and your mother's arrival to this town. Now, do we have a deal...?"
You offer your hand to shake. "I think we-"
"Wait please, Mistress Keiko," Miko interjects. Returning to the older woman's side, she bows deeply.
"What is it, girl?" Keiko asks with a hint of frustration, glancing her ward's way.
"Allow me the chance to fight alongside Keiji!" Miko petitions with heart and feeling, raising her head. Reaching into her yukata's inside pocket, she brings out a pair of wooden divination cards. A rat-like creature is etched into the face of them and they likewise glow with soft golden light. "You said so yourself, there will be double bouts. I would fight for my freedom alongside him." Miko looks to you with trembling eyes. "...I want to help Keiji as he has helped me."
Tying her bony fingers into a clasp, Keiko mulls over the idea with a calculating light to her eyes and a thoughtful hum. Seconds drag by as though eternal. Then, the woman looks between Miko and yourself, and nods consentingly. "Very well. I have but one condition, however."
"Name it, Mistress," says Miko.
"Should you be injured during fights it will be Keiji who pays for your treatments, not I. Do you consent to these terms, young man?"
You place a hand on your heart and bow. "I do, if this is what Miko wants." While your childhood friend indeed possesses reasonable skills in the arts of divination magic, you're yet hesitant. "Are you certain about this though, Miko? I'd rather you not put yourself at risk for me."
"Beyond anything I've ever known," the young miss answers, absolute dedication burning in her eyes. "We're in this together, no matter the outcome."
Moved by both Miko's sincerity and determination, you hold out a hand for her. She returns to your side and links her fingers with yours. Together, you bow in agreement with Madame Keiko's terms. "We accept your offer and will fight for you together," you declare with spirit.
"Very well. I accept your pledges. And as a reward for your willingness... Miko, dear?"
"Yes, Madame?" Miko raises her head and stands straight. You do the same.
"You may have the rest of today off, to spend together with Keiji as you see fit. The usual rules apply, however. You may not leave town."
"But who will cover my shift?"
"Nami will do it. She owes me hours for an afternoon I granted her some weeks prior."
"Alright." Miko smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Mistress. May we leave, then?"
"You may."
Hand-in-hand, you and Miko depart the venue together. Upon stepping outside you reclaim your sword from Nami before setting off down the road.
Linked arm in arm, you walk with your beloved friend down Shikori Street. With night fast approaching, the gambling dens are far livelier than when you first arrived here earlier today. Unease from Miko's willingness to fight beside you swims in your stomach as you walk by them, also.
Pausing partway down the street from Keiko's Den, you unlink your arm from your friend's and lean by a street-side tempura stall. An old, bald-headed man of a slim build mans it. Face weathered with age, he sports a patchwork robe and has a ragged gray cloth headband tied around his head. A pleasing aroma of fried goodness and codfish wafts from his sizzling wok, which he keeps heated with a roaring magical ember from one of his thin fingertips.
As hungry as you are though, your unrest concerning Miko persists.
Reading your somewhat nervy expression, the girl rests a caring hand on your shoulder. "You look rather glum. What ails you...?" she asks caringly.
You sigh softly, touching your hand to hers. "Your willingness to put yourself in harm's way, that's what."
"...I thought as much, knowing you as I do," Miko admits with a fragile smile. "You needn't worry though, lovely. I'm more capable than you think."
"As good with those cards as you are, I'd rather you didn't put yourself in danger."
"And supposing I'm doing as such because you're my dearest friend, hmm? What then?"
The notion of Miko fighting beside you still doesn't sit right. "And should you end up hurt, then what?"
Leaning closer, Miko kisses your cheek. Then, shifting her hand from your shoulder, she wraps both of her arms around your middle. Resting her head against your chest, she cuddles you most affectionately. "Then I'll tend my bruises and get back up again. I'm no stranger to being hit in my job, you know that."
Miko's plain admission of mistreatment makes your stomach knot. "All the more reason you don't subject yourself to greater harm."
"...But you going out of your way for me like you do isn't fair, not when I have the means to help for once."
Though the girl's point is fair, you're still dead against it. An idea sparks to life in your mind. It's a longshot, but you'll go with it regardless. "Then I'll find somebody else to fight beside in the arena when Keiko declares a double tourney. That way, it keeps you out of danger."
"But you don't have any friends besides me, not trustworthy ones, anyway," Miko counters with a sweetened chuckle. She then gazes up at you with her gorgeous brown eyes and flutters her lashes. "So I suppose that means you're stuck with me, hmm?"
You grumble playfully, mock frowning. "Dammit... I'd better get to work on making a new friend."
"I wish you luck. Until that day though, Keiji, I'll shall be your second."
Defeated, you exhale gently. "I sense I'm not getting a choice in this..."
"You're right, you most certainly aren't." Smirking, Miko rises to her tiptoes and kisses your forehead.
"You're quite spirited when you're out of Keiko's earshot, aren't you?" you chuckle.
"More than you realize."
"Better save it for later, yungins," the old man manning the tempura stall remarks sternly, clearing his throat. Cheeks mutually reddening, you and Miko let go of one another. The elderly gent flashes you both a disapproving look and then folds his arms behind his back. "...Interest the two of ye in a bite to eat?"
Your stomach growls loudly, answering the question for you. Miko brings an arm around her middle and chuckles gleefully at you. Unable to hold back an amused tickle, you too snicker for a couple of moments. Once you and Miko have calmed down somewhat, you take out your coin purse.
"Want some too?" you ask Miko.
The hostess nods. "I would, yes."
You nod in return. Then you take a small handful of coins and pass them along to the old man. "Two portions, please."
"Two portions of cod tempura comin' right up!" The stall owner stashes your coins beneath the counter and begins cooking.
"Mind if I come by and say hello to your mother this evening?" Miko asks absentmindedly while she waits, shifting the weight from one foot to the other.
"I'm afraid tonight might not be the best night for it, sorry Miko."
"Oh... It's alright." Sounding a touch disheartened, the lassie discards her request with a wave of the hand. "Is she busy at the shrine again?"
"Not tonight, no." You fold your arms, tapping your foot against the cobblestones. Something to let loose your excess energy while your tempura cooks, so you aren't wound tight like a spring. "We're having house guests stay with us for a while - they arrive tonight. It was really quite short notice."
"Ah, I see. This is the first you've mentioned it. Just how short notice are we talking...?"
"Try last night. Mother dropped it on me over dinner."
"...That sounds like Miss Kasumi, alright."
As much as you love your mother, you roll your eyes. "She'd try to help the whole if she could." You sigh shortly.
"Her son isn't much different," Miko comments with a smirk.
You've no retort there. Not a one. "Fair point..."
"Are you upset with her?"
You unfold your arms and shake your head. "I'm not, no. A little more warning would've been nice, that's all."
"Food's up, yungins!" The old man hands you two cloth-wrapped parcels. They're exceedingly warm to the touch. You pass one along to Miko, and then the two of you bow for the elder. He returns the gesture and you set off down the street.
Miko wastes no time unwrapping her food parcel. Smiling graciously, she carefully picks up a piece of tempura between her forefinger and thumb and blows on it. The pleasant codfish aroma teases your nostrils. What's more, your stomach cries out as she takes a bite.
"How is it?"
Chewing and swallowing a small piece of her first tempura chunk, Miko hums with satisfaction. "It's good. Hot though. Are you not eating yours yet?"
"I'll wait a few minutes. I'd rather food not distract me while I walk you back to your dorm."
"I'm sure one piece won't occupy you too much," says Miko between a second bite. Chewing and swallowing shortly, she finishes her first tempura piece.
"The ruffians and rogues we get down here after dark some nights, I'm not taking any chances."
Miko frowns gently, wrapping her food parcel back up. "...I won't disagree with you there."
For a time, you and your companion walk in silence. Her dormitory, a rather worn three-floor building with an arched roof, enters your sights soon thereafter.
A crude clothesline hangs from the second floor balcony, stretching all the way across to one of the gambling den's balconies over the road. Several pairs of lacy undergarments, likely Nohrian in origin given their racy designs, hang from the leftmost dormitory side. Next to them is a similarly patterned bustier, and a dyed blue kimono with floral print. A thick set, rather young lassie leans by the railings beside them. Robe worn loose and her cleavage showing, she smokes from a pipe. You know the girl, if only in passing - a few friendly conversations. Her name is Yuki. A spirited lass, and one of the newest among Keiko's girls.
Noticing yourself and Miko from above, Yuki puts away her pipe and waves excitedly. "Back from the grind already, eh love?"
"As luck would have it, yes I am," Miko replies, waving back.
Yuki looks to you, her eyes glinting with a hint of passion. "And what about you, Keiji? Coming up with her for a little while...?"
Tempting as the notion may be, and as much as your cheeks heat, you shake your head. "Afraid not, no. I've matters to attend at the house."
"Awww, you're no fun... Oh well, later then!"
"Later!" you call back.
Pouting, Yuki twirls around and heads inside. Her door slams shut behind her.
Alone with you now, Miko leans close and pecks your cheek. "Thank you for escorting me home."
"T'was my pleasure, milady." Moving your tempura parcel into your left hand, you bring your other arm around your waist and bow.
Miko hums sweetly. "Ever the gentleman. Shall I see you tomorrow?"
"Of course you will, provided I'm not kept up all night accommodating our guests."
Stepping back from you, Miko lowers her head. "Let me know how it all goes. Goodnight, Keiji."
"And the same to you, Miko." You return the bow. Your dear friend then turns around, takes off her sandals, and walks on up the dormitory's front steps. Slipping the footwear beneath her arm, she opens the sliding door, walks on through, and brings the panel closed behind her.
It's time you head home as well, especially since it's already dark.
Spinning on your heels, you head back the way you came. Just past Keiko's Den, you pause. Opening out the tempura parcel, you take your first bite of dinner. Your sense of taste cries out in delight and your heart flutters with glee. The fish is wonderfully fresh and the batter is very light.
Pleased beyond words, you swallow the morsel. "Delicious..."
As much as you'd like to enjoy more though, you really have to get moving. Wrapping your food up again, you place the parcel into your robe's inside pocket. Setting off on a light jog the rest of the way down Shikori Street, you weave around drunkards. Keeping Mother waiting is the last thing you want.
You arrive outside the front garden of your family home after a light jog. Mother stands by the steps leading up the house's outer decking and chats with two individuals - strangers whom you haven't seen before. You can only assume these are the houseguests Mother told you to expect. A notion you're moreso convinced by given a small wooden cart of bags and boxes sitting at the bottom of the garden path.
You breathe in and out to steady yourself. Once you're calm and collected, you start up the path toward the house.
At the top of the path, you raise your hand in greeting to your beloved parent. "Good evening, Mother."
Hearing you speak, the two whom chatted with Mother as you arrived turn and face you fully.
"And a good evening to you too, Keiji," Mother answers with care, lowering her head in acknowledgement. Raising it again after a moment, she gestures toward the two newcomers standing by her in the yard. "Let me introduce you to Kagero and her brother, Shoji."
The young man of the pair - Shoji - bows his head for you. "A pleasure, Keiji. Please, allow me to thank you for letting us stay in your home."
You return his introduction, bowing your head as well. "Tis no problem. We're happy to have you."
Your eyes linger on the young man for a few moments, and the two of you share a small smile.
Shoji looks a few years your elder and stands supported on a wooden cane. He's slim built and sports exceedingly sharp features. He radiates a welcoming (and somewhat suave) aura - the likes of which leaves you disarmed and feeling all too eager to speak with him at length. There are strong dark circles beneath his eyes, also. Then there's his complexion: it's a little on the pale side. Both factors are sure-fire indicators that he's a bit unwell.
You next look to Shoji's sister. Your heartbeat quickens in light of how attractive she is. "Tis nice to meet you, Miss Kagero." You bow for her.
"It is nice to meet you too, Keiji." Kagero bows in return, as politeness dictates. Upon rising, the two of you share an extended gaze.
Kagero is clear half foot shorter than you are with slight roundness to her face, and a few small pimples dotting her forehead. Her hips are wide and her bust well is developed. An ornate red sakura blossom clip sits neatly in the right side of her straight brown hair, which just barely touches her shoulders. She wears a pair of white cotton shorts and loose-fitting pink vest top made of cotton. A spark awakens within you at the sight of her, one of intrigue and attraction both.
"Keiji, be a dear and bring our guests their things inside," Mother says, snapping you from Kagero's radiance.
"...But of course." You nod for Mother.
"Very good. Shoji, Kagero, would you like to come inside?" Mother leans against the handrail by the steps and gestures toward the house's front door.
"I'd very much appreciate that, Miss Kasumi," answers Shoji with a nod. "The last stretch of our journey was particularly tiring."
"I see. Then let me fix you some tea and show you into the living room. What of you, Miss Kagero?"
Kagero shakes her head shortly. "I shall help Keiji with our bags first, if you don't mind."
"Not at all. I'll see you inside soon, then. Please put our guests' belongings in the hall for the time being, Keiji."
You nod again. Mother then helps Shoji up the front steps and opens the front door for him. Ushering the young man inside, she follows him and closes the sliding door. Alone now with Kagero, you look toward the cart of bags and boxes.
Wanting the break the ice a little, you whistle. "There're quite a few boxes. It must've been quite the task bringing them all this way."
"Not as much as you'd think," Kagero reveals with a chuckle. "We had a couple of our household stewards come most of the way with us."
Makes sense. Kagero and Shoji are of noble birth, after all. "Fair's fair. Will they be joining us at some point too?"
Kagero shakes her head. She then walks over to the cart with you and lifts one of the bags off the back. "No, we sent them back upon arriving at Izami's outskirts. Besides, you and your mother are already being kind enough by letting my brother and I stay here. We couldn't possibly impose any further."
"That's just how Mother is." You pick up a small wooden trunk off the back of the cart. Its lid has fine silver trim around the edges.
A hint of alarm glinting in Kagero's eyes, she sets down her bag and points toward the chest you hold. "Please, allow me to carry that one inside."
Not wanting to cause an upset with your new guest, you hand off the chest. "There you go. Is it valuable?"
"It is indeed," answers Kagero with a nod, a look of fondness about her. "This box contains my art supplies. Shoji bought them for me when I was little."
An answer you certainly weren't expecting. You pick up the bag Kagero held and begin toward the house with her. "You're an artist?"
"Between my training as a kunoichi, yes. Painting is one of my fondest hobbies, in fact."
You carefully head up the outside steps and open up the front door for Kagero. "You'll have to show me some of your drawings while you're here."
Kagero blushes. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that... I'm not really very good..." Stepping into the hallway, she sets down the precious chest by the doorway.
You set the bag down beside Kagero's art box. "Good or not, I'd still be interested in seeing. If you're willing to show me, that is."
"I'll give it some thought." You and Kagero turn back and head down the stairs toward the cart again. "What of you, Keiji? Do you have any hobbies?"
Your fondest pastime comes to you in nary a breath. "Sparring. Single combat practice, especially."
"Is that not already part of your job, since you're a samurai and all...?" Kagero asks with a chuckle, gesturing toward your clothes.
"It is, but the thrill of battle excites me beyond words." You recall a hobby from a while ago. "There is another... I haven't practiced for a couple of years now, though." Your cheeks redden a touch. "Promise you won't laugh, and I shall tell you. Tis not much of a samurai's hobby."
"You have my word," Kagero promises, a hand on her heart. Arriving again by the cart, you and she pick up another back each. The two of you lean against the cart. "You have me quite curious now, I must say. Just what is this hobby? It clearly has you feeling a little bit shy."
Your face heats. "...I play the ocarina, usually in the local sake dens. At least, I used to. My friend taught me how." A mental image of Miko sitting beside you in her red kimono and playing the instrument some couple of years ago graces you. A tender memory. "I'm usually not too forthcoming about it; given the girls whom work the dens typically have all sorts of bad rumours spun about them. It's typically more of a woman's choice, too."
Kagero shakes her head. "Don't be silly, I happen to think it's rather nice."
Heart swelling with eagerness, you find it in you to smile. "You do...?"
"I do." Kagero nods. "And that besides, in the capital it's perfectly normal for men and women of all ages to play."
To say you're both impressed and pleased is putting it mildly. "...I'm happy to hear it. And you've been to the capital, really?"
"I've seen Shirasagi, yes. Only once, and when I was far younger. Minstrels and musicians played on street corners there very regularly, whole bands, even."
"Sounds fun." Far livelier than anything down Shikori Street.
"It was. In fact... I have an idea." Kagero puts down her bag. Intrigue shining in her eyes, she snaps her fingers. "How about you show me your talents with the ocarina sometime? In return, I'll show you one of the paintings I've brought with me." The young lady extends a hand. "Do we have a deal?"
Setting down your bag, you take Kagero's hand into yours and gently squeeze her fingers. "We do indeed. For now though, it might be best we get all of these bags inside. It's getting late, and I imagine you want to rest after your journey." Retracting your hand, you pick up the bag again.
Kagero likewise picks up her bag. "I do... The last ten miles were exhausting, and I could certainly use a bath in the morning, too."
"Nearest bathhouse is a couple of streets away. I'll show you there tomorrow if you'd like? And your brother too, if he's up for it," you add cautiously.
"I'd like that, and I'm sure Shoji would, too," Kagero adds with a slight frown.
Even though you're an only child, a sense of empathy isn't lost to you. "...Worried about your brother?"
"I am, but we can talk more about that later. I'm sure we'll have the time for it."
"Indeed we will." You nod.
Painful silence descends. You and Kagero resume moving bags together. It's probably best you rekindle the conversation with something upbeat.
Thankfully, the perfect topic comes to mind. "So, you're a kunoichi, and a noble one at that."
"An apprentice kunoichi," Kagero clarifies somewhat adamantly. "I've trained in the arts for years, but I don't yet have a master."
Soon the conversation blooms into an extensive chat about both Kagero's and your reasons for choosing your respective paths. The more you talk with her, the warmer you feel toward her. She seems very easy-going, but is certainly steely and serious when it comes to talk of her role as a kunoichi. She's an attentive, diligent and pretty girl all in all. Deep down, you hope for a chance to get closer to her.
For now though, you have both your duties as a samurai and your pledge to Keiko to consider.
Miko won't get free unless you fight for her, and you intend to do just that.
Being an arena combatant will sharpen your skills in preparation for the day you finally serve in the army against Nohr; the day when you make those ruthless marauders pay for taking father from you. It is your single largest purpose in life, and you'll see it through no matter what.
Your honor as a swordsman demands it.
To be continued...
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