A/N: For those of you who have read this before, this is a revision of the
first chapter. I forgot a few details and so had to replace the one posted.
Sorry 'bout that. Enjoy!
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Chapter 1 - Entrapment
Morning. In the eastern sector of Osaka, glowing in the emerging daylight was the estate of Lord Akoro Matsu, its white walls and dark cedar roof beautifully lit by the rising sun. Surrounding the mansion was a garden on all sides, alive with bonsai trees, blossoming sakura, and swaying green bamboo. Glistening waterfalls and pools of Koi created an air of peace and tranquility as the day began. Outside, servants and horsemen washed clothes and trained their Lord's finest steeds. Ladies floated through the polished and gleaming hallways, and the smell of the morning meal wafted into every room. Concealed in the morning hours within the illuminated Hall of Philosophy, two men conversed together while sipping drinks.
"What has the daimyo been doing this past week?" spoke the voice of the younger of the two: Kaurousuke Anji, master of Matsukaze Kenbu-ryu swordsmanship.
Kaurousuke was a finely built and good-looking man of thirty-seven years. He wore a simple dark green kimono and brown hakama, wrapped together in a black silk haori, emblazoned with the Matsu symbol upon the shoulder, the head of a white horse. His eyes were a deep and shining onyx, and his long black locks were tied high upon his head. His question had been aimed at the elder: Yamagata Cho, teacher and philosopher to the Matsu estate.
Yamagata, an older man with pale wrinkled skin, white whiskers hanging from his upper lip. His hair, though thinned upon his brow, poured down his back like a river of hoary frost. Slightly narrowed eyes bore a countenance of utmost wisdom and knowledge. His garments were of a fine quality, pertaining to his rank among the vassals, a white kimono, with a black hakama and haori adorned with the Matsu symbol.
The wise elder answered his young friend, "Matsu-sama will soon meet with a skilled swordsman, a ronin. He wants to hire him to defend the estate from his enemies."
"I wonder who it'll be this time," Kaurousuke wondered, pouring sake into a tiny white dish. "With all of his samurai gone, Matsu has become desperate to defend himself. I do not know how much longer this will last."
"I do not think we will need to worry so much now as before," Yamagata muttered, sipping warm tea from a porcelain cup.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, Matsu-sama has received word from a swordsman interested in being hired."
"Who?"
"You will see soon enough," Yamagata laughed quietly.
A rustle of silks alerted them to the presence of a wandering flower that often visited the Hall of Philosophy. Following the soft tapping on the wooden frames of the paper doors was a hand, smooth and light as a butterfly's wing, sliding it open. Sunlight flooded the room, as the angelic flower tiptoed inside and slowly kneeled to the straw-sewn tatami flooring. It was the daimyo's only daughter, Miss Toshiki Matsu. Her long kimono, painted with white sakura blossoms and violet butterflies, flowed out from her like a river of magic, sending an aura about her charming face. Her eyes sparkled like emerald gold, her hair, a glossy black stream, freshly combed and unaccompanied by any ornaments. Her picturesque features silenced the two men as she bowed respectfully to them, her forehead resting over her folded hands.
"Lady Matsu seems to have arrived early," Yamagata smiled as he sipped the last drops of warm tea from his cup.
"Are you certain she has come for your boring lectures on the origin of life," Kaurousuke laughed. "Or has she come to learn the ways of the sword?"
Toshiki smiled silently as she rose and sat down next to the philosopher. "Sensei, I am ready for my lessons."
"There will be no lessons today, little hana," Yamagata sighed. "Your father has commanded so."
Toshiki grinned internally as she asked, "Why is this?"
"Someone important is arriving soon," Yamagata replied. "Matsu-sama wishes that I assign you to your room to recite poetry."
"Sensei, I have read those pages for as many times that I may count the stars at night. Please, may I be assigned a different task?" Toshiki asked, respectively bowing to her teacher.
"All right then. I shall give you a riddle. 'What does the flower whisper when a white moon rises?' I will teach you nothing more until you give me the answer. Now, run along, little hana. I believe your nurse is calling you."
Toshiki sighed as she heard the shrieking calls of her nurse Yousai, who had cared for her since her mother's passing. She rose to her feet to answer the call of the wrinkled hag whom she loved but wished would leave her be for a few moments. Toshiki floated out of the room as magically as she had entered, leaving the two men to talk of more important things.
"I must admit, she is a beautiful girl," Kaurousuke remarked, sipping freshly poured sake.
"Yes," Yamagata agreed. "But I fear it may lead to her own demise. With her being the only child of the daimyo, and a woman at that, the Matsu line may never live through this era."
Kaurousuke lowered the silvery dish from his lips and hissed, "It appears this family is finally living up to its name-sake."
~
Someone important?
Toshiki sat in her room, flipping through the hundred-page book of haiku poems, thinking over what her sensei had said. Why had no one informed me? In normal cases, my father would have had me parade before his honored guests like a flaunting peacock. This time, however, I have heard nothing. Still, for amusement, I will prepare myself for the occasion.
Toshiki rose and floated over the tatami to her vanity, where a mirror, framed with jasper, sent back a perfect reflection of her flawless façade. She brought out her black comb and ran it through her silken locks. Toshiki enjoyed this time to herself. Normally, a high-ranking woman would have maids come and comb her hair and dress it formally. Toshiki however, preferred to do this herself, though it took longer and sometimes her hair would sit lopsided on her head. Over her sixteen-year lifetime, however, she had nearly perfected this technique. Within moments her midnight locks were wrapped neatly in a high bun, adorned with a glowing white rose and gold tassel, her full lips painted red as the fruit of the cherry tree. She dressed in one of her more formal kimonos, white linen bright with gold and flowing patterns of cranes dancing over her as if she were the symbol of the morning sky. She twirled in her silk robes and tugged at the collar so that the nape of her neck could be seen. Toshiki looked herself over in the mirror and was satisfied in knowing that if she could not go into the meeting hall, she could at least tease the men hanging about the mansion.
Toshiki exited her room, glowing like a golden jewel, and glided down the hallways, silent as a whisper, out onto the balcony overlooking the bustling city. The flowering city of Osaka flourished in the bright radiance of the spring sunbeams. Blossoms of the enchanting sakura trees danced through the warm air; the streets were filled with busy shopkeepers, restaurants billowing with the smells of freshly cooked rice balls, tea and sake. Little children clambered about the cobblestone streets playing with streamers of bright red, white and purple silk in celebration of the returning spring.
Toshiki wished she could be among them. Though she had known luxury for her entire life she longed to know what the outside world was like, what people who were poor experienced. She believed they were much happier. Leaning a hand upon the sill of the balcony, she sighed mournfully. The wind whistled through the tall koya-maki sending the whorled leaves dancing through the air.
Taking in the beautiful world, Toshiki failed to notice a presence below. Her eyes trailed down the blue tiled rooftop to the crown of a man, standing on the steps exiting toward the bamboo garden. He was most intriguing. A river of scarlet ran from his head, through a knot of black silk and flowed down his straight back. His face was calm and fair, his eyes shutting out the noise of the world. Draped in the dark folds of his blue haori, he stood majestically, his white hakama swaying in a gentle breeze. His hands looked strong and at the same time gentle. Hanging on the sash of his hakama were two swords, a short wakizashi and a long katana blade, indicating he was a warrior. Toshiki could not veer her eyes from his captivating form. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly, wishing to escape and land on the flower of a man that lay before her.
Suddenly, as if he could feel the weight of her stare, the man stirred and turned his gaze up toward her. His bright eyes, fierce and haunting, flashed amber in the sunlight. They glowed with an ethereal radiance, like the paralyzing eyes of a tiger ready to strike. Flushed, her breath caught in her throat at seeing his suddenly fearsome appearance. What she had thought to be an angel had suddenly turned into a beast, snarling from an unseen darkness. A deadly spirit that sank deep into her soul, choking her heart with a writhing pulse, had shadowed his tranquil countenance. It was as if by opening his eyes he was, in a manner, opening the gates of the underworld and sucking her in. His smooth right hand traveled from its quiet place by his side up to the leather-wrapped hilt of his long sword. The eyes narrowed and glared up at her, a raging inferno ablaze in his heart. Frightened beyond the senses, Toshiki whirled around and fled into the house. Pallid and shaking, she wiped the beads of anxious sweat from her brow and tried to calm her fleeting heart.
Those eyes.she thought breathlessly. Those frightening, beautiful eyes. Who is that man?
~
The ronin returned his hand to his flank and heaved a sigh. With each affair he took on, there was always someone or something getting in his way of finishing it quickly. The young woman who had been spying on him from the window caused his heart to groan in annoyance. He had been traveling far during the past few days to familiarize himself with the city of Osaka. The times were becoming more and more agitated with each day's passing. The foundations of the Tokugawa shogunate were slowly rotting away. Samurai and peasants alike were revolting against both the Emperor and the Shogun. The whole country of Japan seemed to be writhing in pain of civil unrest and instability. It had been two years since he had left the shadow of his master but that was nothing to be sorry about. If he was going to make it through this endeavor and the even harder times ahead, he could have nothing, no one, tying him down.
His meditation was broken as a frail servant, an old man with wrinkled skin and hands, humbly summoned the ronin into the meeting hall, trembling with every unsteady step. The ronin scowled at the insignificant attendant as he shuffled along the corridors. Maids and other young servants gasped at his presence, bowed fearfully and retreated into their rooms like mice scurrying from a cat.
The conference hall was wide and spacious, nearly thirty tatami across. Seated on the left side was a young man with rice paper and inked brushes, awaiting the spoken words of his master. The other side presented the advisor and philosopher to the daimyo, Yamagata, sitting quietly by his master's side. In the center, settled upon a raised platform, was Lord Akoro Matsu, daimyo of Osaka and loyalist to the Emperor. He wore a splendid black haori and brown hakama, etched with the estate seal on the collar. His angular face, and wispy black mustache hairs, gave him the appearance of a cat as he sat proudly on his cushion and ushered in the swordsman with a wave of his hand. The old man who had led the ronin to the room vanished into the hallway. All eyes were upon the visitor as he strode inside and knelt down on a brightly colored floor mat. He respectfully removed his long sword from his belt sash and laid it on the floor beside him. Bowing slightly in added respect, he awaited the noble's greeting and proposal.
"Welcome, honorable swordsman," Matsu half bowed to the bushi sitting before him. "It is a great honor that you have graced my mansion with your presence. Please allow me to offer the finest refreshments for you. Your journey here must have been long and tiring."
A timid servant girl approached the swordsman with a tray of warmed sake and fat round rice balls, with ginger dipping sauce and sweetly boiled bamboo shoots. The ronin put up a hand to the maid and said bluntly, "Forgive my rudeness, Your Honor, but I must decline. Let us settle with business first, shall we?"
Taken aback by the sudden refusal, Lord Matsu cleared his throat and sent the maidservant away. "Yes, well, you do look like a man who needn't be bothered by such trivialities." Matsu took a sip of sake, and took up a small roll of paper. "I have received this letter in response to my notice to hire skilled swordsman. You are the first I have received in many weeks. This riposte explains that you have no name to go by but are an exceptional swordsman, one to be rivaled. Well then, you are exactly the man I have been searching for."
Matsu put away the scroll and prepared to state his predicament. "Since before the Bakumatsu began I have been plagued and ravaged by a rival daimyo whose allegiance is with the Tokugawa shogunate. He is called Kokkaido, and he has been warring for my land and my wealth with every force imaginable. He destroyed every last one of my samurai warriors and I have found no more to defend my estate. This information of your invincible swordsmanship has enlightened me. I will pay you by the day a handsome purse of one hundred yen, if you guard my estate from this wicked man and his agents. I will bestow upon you every luxury you ask for, the finest food and wine, the best lodging and most beautiful geisha in my estate, if you would do this for me. Will you accept my generous offer?"
The ronin smiled internally at the daimyo's desperate character. Never had he even heard of an assassin being offer so much for one simple job. However, without hesitation, the ronin bowed courteously and said, "I accept."
Lord Matsu's face glowed with pleasure as he bowed gratefully to the ronin. "Arigato-gozaimasu." Summoning a sweet-faced maid, Matsu instructed, "Lead the swordsman to his room and make sure he's comfortable."
The ronin, bowing appreciatively, picked up his sword and departed from the meeting hall, following after the blushing, frightful girl. She tiptoed in front of him like a bird half-flying over the still water of a pond, nervous of the prowling predator lurking in the reeds. They arrived at a pair of ornamented paper doors that slid open to reveal a stately room, luxuriously furnished with polished black sandalwood tables and stools, bejeweled with mother-of-pearl. Midday sunshine flooded the walls through a window on the far side that overlooked the city of Osaka. A cherry tree shaded part of the room, its lovely pink flowers dancing in the summer breeze. The ronin, pleased at his quarters, thanked the girl and sent her off. She bowed nervously, shuffled out of the room and quietly shut the doors behind her.
The swordsman placed his wakizashi and katana upon a sword stand, sat down in the center of the room facing the window, and shut his eyes, sinking into deep meditation to fortify his mind for whatever may lie ahead. Monotonous or not, it seemed that each task he took on became more serious than the last, and brought more danger than he ever assumed. This one might be no different. After a few moments his eyes opened, a blazing fiery power echoing from his soul.
~
Toshiki rose and paced to her window. She stared out into the garden, her heart trembling at the thought of him. Knowing not of the happenings going on in the mansion irritated her. She had to know who he was. Toshiki turned to the servant girl she had called from the hallway. The maid kept her eyes to the floor, waiting to be questioned.
"Do you know anything about this man?" Toshiki pried from the servant girl. "Even if it is a little thing, tell me."
"I do not know of this man, however, I have heard rumors of men like him, mistress," the maid whispered. "He is one of many terrible swordsman, leaving silent chaos in their wake. Living to kill, they know nothing of love or compassion. Many say they are mad. Of this one I am truly frightened. I believe that he's probably killed so many men that the blood spattering from their sword-slashed bodies, stained his hair scarlet!"
Toshiki whirled around, eyes wide at such a statement. It was apparent what the young maid had said were exaggerations but still, they sent a chill down her spine. The long river of hair that ran down his back did look like blood spilling from his head, but that was only a fabrication. Toshiki requested one last thing from the trembling maid. "Do you know where the swordsman is staying?"
"Hai, mistress. He rests in the state room."
Lady Matsu stared through the paper walls until she reached the room on the far side of the upper part of the mansion. An appointed assassin was occupying the stateroom, quarters only presented to the highest official guests? It seemed strange that her father would provide such luxury to a man just hired off the street. However, though he seemed to be a crooked ronin, Toshiki was locked in his breathtaking stare and could not escape.
She sent the little maid off and leaned an elbow on the windowsill. Watching the sunset in the western sky, she thought of the tiger spirit that dwelled there and wondered what the ronin might have seen in his travels. Though her teachers and her father had taught her many things, she still did not know of all the things happening throughout Japan. She longed to see the outside world, instead of being caged within the walls of her own home. Just to go into the city, only a few miles away, would bring such joy into her heart. Toshiki looked again through the paper walls and imagined the tall figure of the samurai sitting in the middle of the room holding his sword in his hand. His eyes, concealed by the darkness, suddenly illuminated from within, staring into her soul. She inhaled slowly at the thought of him. Can it be possible, she thought, to see into such a man's heart?
~
After refreshing herself in the bathhouse, Toshiki walked up the steps to return to her room. When she reached the top of the stairway something drew her to the end of the hallway, the stateroom. She could feel his presence lurking, creeping up slowly to devour her. She fled into her room and shut the doors. Fear was not something she was familiar with, however, his aura was overpowering in both dread and reverence. Yet, there was something in that man she could not ignore. Though her conscience told her to put it aside, her heart urged her forward.
She clothed herself in a simple yukata, littered with butterflies and flower petals, combed her hair until it sparkled and went to meet with the ronin. The hallway seemed empty, deserted of all life, around the stateroom. A strange darkness hovered about the door, to dissuade any visitors. Toshiki felt it, but continued onward. Putting her smooth fingers on the sliding door she opened it slightly and peered inside. The room was vacant. Widening the entrance she stepped inside and looked around the room. It was decorated the same as always. The only thing different was the presence of two swords resting on their stand. Her eyes widened and a yelp caught in her throat as she turned around. Standing in the once barren doorway was the magnificent warrior, tall and sleek, his long red hair glowing in the sunlight that was streaming thought the open window. Amber jewels stared down at her with an air of superiority and confidence. Overwhelmed, she collapsed to the floor before him, nearly prostrate on the tatami.
He stepped toward her and hissed, "Who are you?"
Trembling beneath his shadow she replied, "Gomenasai, bushi-sama. I." Her eyes lifted and she stared into his breathtaking gaze. "I only wished.to."
"To get yourself killed?"
Toshiki's eyes flickered in emerald gold at the blunt and threatening statement. The ronin slid across the room and approached his sleeping blades. Toshiki's eyes followed his every movement, anxious to find the words to say to him, fearful and yet hopeful of his reaction. The swordsman picked up his katana and caressed its smooth hilt.
"You should know better, than to be interested in strange swordsman." Irritated at her company, the ronin sighed and said, "Go back to your room, foolish girl. There is nothing for you to be curious about." The swordsman walked toward her, blade in hand, forcing her outside with his piercing stare. He watched her rush to her room on the far end of the hallway, then, nonchalantly, closed the doors.
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Chapter 1 - Entrapment
Morning. In the eastern sector of Osaka, glowing in the emerging daylight was the estate of Lord Akoro Matsu, its white walls and dark cedar roof beautifully lit by the rising sun. Surrounding the mansion was a garden on all sides, alive with bonsai trees, blossoming sakura, and swaying green bamboo. Glistening waterfalls and pools of Koi created an air of peace and tranquility as the day began. Outside, servants and horsemen washed clothes and trained their Lord's finest steeds. Ladies floated through the polished and gleaming hallways, and the smell of the morning meal wafted into every room. Concealed in the morning hours within the illuminated Hall of Philosophy, two men conversed together while sipping drinks.
"What has the daimyo been doing this past week?" spoke the voice of the younger of the two: Kaurousuke Anji, master of Matsukaze Kenbu-ryu swordsmanship.
Kaurousuke was a finely built and good-looking man of thirty-seven years. He wore a simple dark green kimono and brown hakama, wrapped together in a black silk haori, emblazoned with the Matsu symbol upon the shoulder, the head of a white horse. His eyes were a deep and shining onyx, and his long black locks were tied high upon his head. His question had been aimed at the elder: Yamagata Cho, teacher and philosopher to the Matsu estate.
Yamagata, an older man with pale wrinkled skin, white whiskers hanging from his upper lip. His hair, though thinned upon his brow, poured down his back like a river of hoary frost. Slightly narrowed eyes bore a countenance of utmost wisdom and knowledge. His garments were of a fine quality, pertaining to his rank among the vassals, a white kimono, with a black hakama and haori adorned with the Matsu symbol.
The wise elder answered his young friend, "Matsu-sama will soon meet with a skilled swordsman, a ronin. He wants to hire him to defend the estate from his enemies."
"I wonder who it'll be this time," Kaurousuke wondered, pouring sake into a tiny white dish. "With all of his samurai gone, Matsu has become desperate to defend himself. I do not know how much longer this will last."
"I do not think we will need to worry so much now as before," Yamagata muttered, sipping warm tea from a porcelain cup.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, Matsu-sama has received word from a swordsman interested in being hired."
"Who?"
"You will see soon enough," Yamagata laughed quietly.
A rustle of silks alerted them to the presence of a wandering flower that often visited the Hall of Philosophy. Following the soft tapping on the wooden frames of the paper doors was a hand, smooth and light as a butterfly's wing, sliding it open. Sunlight flooded the room, as the angelic flower tiptoed inside and slowly kneeled to the straw-sewn tatami flooring. It was the daimyo's only daughter, Miss Toshiki Matsu. Her long kimono, painted with white sakura blossoms and violet butterflies, flowed out from her like a river of magic, sending an aura about her charming face. Her eyes sparkled like emerald gold, her hair, a glossy black stream, freshly combed and unaccompanied by any ornaments. Her picturesque features silenced the two men as she bowed respectfully to them, her forehead resting over her folded hands.
"Lady Matsu seems to have arrived early," Yamagata smiled as he sipped the last drops of warm tea from his cup.
"Are you certain she has come for your boring lectures on the origin of life," Kaurousuke laughed. "Or has she come to learn the ways of the sword?"
Toshiki smiled silently as she rose and sat down next to the philosopher. "Sensei, I am ready for my lessons."
"There will be no lessons today, little hana," Yamagata sighed. "Your father has commanded so."
Toshiki grinned internally as she asked, "Why is this?"
"Someone important is arriving soon," Yamagata replied. "Matsu-sama wishes that I assign you to your room to recite poetry."
"Sensei, I have read those pages for as many times that I may count the stars at night. Please, may I be assigned a different task?" Toshiki asked, respectively bowing to her teacher.
"All right then. I shall give you a riddle. 'What does the flower whisper when a white moon rises?' I will teach you nothing more until you give me the answer. Now, run along, little hana. I believe your nurse is calling you."
Toshiki sighed as she heard the shrieking calls of her nurse Yousai, who had cared for her since her mother's passing. She rose to her feet to answer the call of the wrinkled hag whom she loved but wished would leave her be for a few moments. Toshiki floated out of the room as magically as she had entered, leaving the two men to talk of more important things.
"I must admit, she is a beautiful girl," Kaurousuke remarked, sipping freshly poured sake.
"Yes," Yamagata agreed. "But I fear it may lead to her own demise. With her being the only child of the daimyo, and a woman at that, the Matsu line may never live through this era."
Kaurousuke lowered the silvery dish from his lips and hissed, "It appears this family is finally living up to its name-sake."
~
Someone important?
Toshiki sat in her room, flipping through the hundred-page book of haiku poems, thinking over what her sensei had said. Why had no one informed me? In normal cases, my father would have had me parade before his honored guests like a flaunting peacock. This time, however, I have heard nothing. Still, for amusement, I will prepare myself for the occasion.
Toshiki rose and floated over the tatami to her vanity, where a mirror, framed with jasper, sent back a perfect reflection of her flawless façade. She brought out her black comb and ran it through her silken locks. Toshiki enjoyed this time to herself. Normally, a high-ranking woman would have maids come and comb her hair and dress it formally. Toshiki however, preferred to do this herself, though it took longer and sometimes her hair would sit lopsided on her head. Over her sixteen-year lifetime, however, she had nearly perfected this technique. Within moments her midnight locks were wrapped neatly in a high bun, adorned with a glowing white rose and gold tassel, her full lips painted red as the fruit of the cherry tree. She dressed in one of her more formal kimonos, white linen bright with gold and flowing patterns of cranes dancing over her as if she were the symbol of the morning sky. She twirled in her silk robes and tugged at the collar so that the nape of her neck could be seen. Toshiki looked herself over in the mirror and was satisfied in knowing that if she could not go into the meeting hall, she could at least tease the men hanging about the mansion.
Toshiki exited her room, glowing like a golden jewel, and glided down the hallways, silent as a whisper, out onto the balcony overlooking the bustling city. The flowering city of Osaka flourished in the bright radiance of the spring sunbeams. Blossoms of the enchanting sakura trees danced through the warm air; the streets were filled with busy shopkeepers, restaurants billowing with the smells of freshly cooked rice balls, tea and sake. Little children clambered about the cobblestone streets playing with streamers of bright red, white and purple silk in celebration of the returning spring.
Toshiki wished she could be among them. Though she had known luxury for her entire life she longed to know what the outside world was like, what people who were poor experienced. She believed they were much happier. Leaning a hand upon the sill of the balcony, she sighed mournfully. The wind whistled through the tall koya-maki sending the whorled leaves dancing through the air.
Taking in the beautiful world, Toshiki failed to notice a presence below. Her eyes trailed down the blue tiled rooftop to the crown of a man, standing on the steps exiting toward the bamboo garden. He was most intriguing. A river of scarlet ran from his head, through a knot of black silk and flowed down his straight back. His face was calm and fair, his eyes shutting out the noise of the world. Draped in the dark folds of his blue haori, he stood majestically, his white hakama swaying in a gentle breeze. His hands looked strong and at the same time gentle. Hanging on the sash of his hakama were two swords, a short wakizashi and a long katana blade, indicating he was a warrior. Toshiki could not veer her eyes from his captivating form. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly, wishing to escape and land on the flower of a man that lay before her.
Suddenly, as if he could feel the weight of her stare, the man stirred and turned his gaze up toward her. His bright eyes, fierce and haunting, flashed amber in the sunlight. They glowed with an ethereal radiance, like the paralyzing eyes of a tiger ready to strike. Flushed, her breath caught in her throat at seeing his suddenly fearsome appearance. What she had thought to be an angel had suddenly turned into a beast, snarling from an unseen darkness. A deadly spirit that sank deep into her soul, choking her heart with a writhing pulse, had shadowed his tranquil countenance. It was as if by opening his eyes he was, in a manner, opening the gates of the underworld and sucking her in. His smooth right hand traveled from its quiet place by his side up to the leather-wrapped hilt of his long sword. The eyes narrowed and glared up at her, a raging inferno ablaze in his heart. Frightened beyond the senses, Toshiki whirled around and fled into the house. Pallid and shaking, she wiped the beads of anxious sweat from her brow and tried to calm her fleeting heart.
Those eyes.she thought breathlessly. Those frightening, beautiful eyes. Who is that man?
~
The ronin returned his hand to his flank and heaved a sigh. With each affair he took on, there was always someone or something getting in his way of finishing it quickly. The young woman who had been spying on him from the window caused his heart to groan in annoyance. He had been traveling far during the past few days to familiarize himself with the city of Osaka. The times were becoming more and more agitated with each day's passing. The foundations of the Tokugawa shogunate were slowly rotting away. Samurai and peasants alike were revolting against both the Emperor and the Shogun. The whole country of Japan seemed to be writhing in pain of civil unrest and instability. It had been two years since he had left the shadow of his master but that was nothing to be sorry about. If he was going to make it through this endeavor and the even harder times ahead, he could have nothing, no one, tying him down.
His meditation was broken as a frail servant, an old man with wrinkled skin and hands, humbly summoned the ronin into the meeting hall, trembling with every unsteady step. The ronin scowled at the insignificant attendant as he shuffled along the corridors. Maids and other young servants gasped at his presence, bowed fearfully and retreated into their rooms like mice scurrying from a cat.
The conference hall was wide and spacious, nearly thirty tatami across. Seated on the left side was a young man with rice paper and inked brushes, awaiting the spoken words of his master. The other side presented the advisor and philosopher to the daimyo, Yamagata, sitting quietly by his master's side. In the center, settled upon a raised platform, was Lord Akoro Matsu, daimyo of Osaka and loyalist to the Emperor. He wore a splendid black haori and brown hakama, etched with the estate seal on the collar. His angular face, and wispy black mustache hairs, gave him the appearance of a cat as he sat proudly on his cushion and ushered in the swordsman with a wave of his hand. The old man who had led the ronin to the room vanished into the hallway. All eyes were upon the visitor as he strode inside and knelt down on a brightly colored floor mat. He respectfully removed his long sword from his belt sash and laid it on the floor beside him. Bowing slightly in added respect, he awaited the noble's greeting and proposal.
"Welcome, honorable swordsman," Matsu half bowed to the bushi sitting before him. "It is a great honor that you have graced my mansion with your presence. Please allow me to offer the finest refreshments for you. Your journey here must have been long and tiring."
A timid servant girl approached the swordsman with a tray of warmed sake and fat round rice balls, with ginger dipping sauce and sweetly boiled bamboo shoots. The ronin put up a hand to the maid and said bluntly, "Forgive my rudeness, Your Honor, but I must decline. Let us settle with business first, shall we?"
Taken aback by the sudden refusal, Lord Matsu cleared his throat and sent the maidservant away. "Yes, well, you do look like a man who needn't be bothered by such trivialities." Matsu took a sip of sake, and took up a small roll of paper. "I have received this letter in response to my notice to hire skilled swordsman. You are the first I have received in many weeks. This riposte explains that you have no name to go by but are an exceptional swordsman, one to be rivaled. Well then, you are exactly the man I have been searching for."
Matsu put away the scroll and prepared to state his predicament. "Since before the Bakumatsu began I have been plagued and ravaged by a rival daimyo whose allegiance is with the Tokugawa shogunate. He is called Kokkaido, and he has been warring for my land and my wealth with every force imaginable. He destroyed every last one of my samurai warriors and I have found no more to defend my estate. This information of your invincible swordsmanship has enlightened me. I will pay you by the day a handsome purse of one hundred yen, if you guard my estate from this wicked man and his agents. I will bestow upon you every luxury you ask for, the finest food and wine, the best lodging and most beautiful geisha in my estate, if you would do this for me. Will you accept my generous offer?"
The ronin smiled internally at the daimyo's desperate character. Never had he even heard of an assassin being offer so much for one simple job. However, without hesitation, the ronin bowed courteously and said, "I accept."
Lord Matsu's face glowed with pleasure as he bowed gratefully to the ronin. "Arigato-gozaimasu." Summoning a sweet-faced maid, Matsu instructed, "Lead the swordsman to his room and make sure he's comfortable."
The ronin, bowing appreciatively, picked up his sword and departed from the meeting hall, following after the blushing, frightful girl. She tiptoed in front of him like a bird half-flying over the still water of a pond, nervous of the prowling predator lurking in the reeds. They arrived at a pair of ornamented paper doors that slid open to reveal a stately room, luxuriously furnished with polished black sandalwood tables and stools, bejeweled with mother-of-pearl. Midday sunshine flooded the walls through a window on the far side that overlooked the city of Osaka. A cherry tree shaded part of the room, its lovely pink flowers dancing in the summer breeze. The ronin, pleased at his quarters, thanked the girl and sent her off. She bowed nervously, shuffled out of the room and quietly shut the doors behind her.
The swordsman placed his wakizashi and katana upon a sword stand, sat down in the center of the room facing the window, and shut his eyes, sinking into deep meditation to fortify his mind for whatever may lie ahead. Monotonous or not, it seemed that each task he took on became more serious than the last, and brought more danger than he ever assumed. This one might be no different. After a few moments his eyes opened, a blazing fiery power echoing from his soul.
~
Toshiki rose and paced to her window. She stared out into the garden, her heart trembling at the thought of him. Knowing not of the happenings going on in the mansion irritated her. She had to know who he was. Toshiki turned to the servant girl she had called from the hallway. The maid kept her eyes to the floor, waiting to be questioned.
"Do you know anything about this man?" Toshiki pried from the servant girl. "Even if it is a little thing, tell me."
"I do not know of this man, however, I have heard rumors of men like him, mistress," the maid whispered. "He is one of many terrible swordsman, leaving silent chaos in their wake. Living to kill, they know nothing of love or compassion. Many say they are mad. Of this one I am truly frightened. I believe that he's probably killed so many men that the blood spattering from their sword-slashed bodies, stained his hair scarlet!"
Toshiki whirled around, eyes wide at such a statement. It was apparent what the young maid had said were exaggerations but still, they sent a chill down her spine. The long river of hair that ran down his back did look like blood spilling from his head, but that was only a fabrication. Toshiki requested one last thing from the trembling maid. "Do you know where the swordsman is staying?"
"Hai, mistress. He rests in the state room."
Lady Matsu stared through the paper walls until she reached the room on the far side of the upper part of the mansion. An appointed assassin was occupying the stateroom, quarters only presented to the highest official guests? It seemed strange that her father would provide such luxury to a man just hired off the street. However, though he seemed to be a crooked ronin, Toshiki was locked in his breathtaking stare and could not escape.
She sent the little maid off and leaned an elbow on the windowsill. Watching the sunset in the western sky, she thought of the tiger spirit that dwelled there and wondered what the ronin might have seen in his travels. Though her teachers and her father had taught her many things, she still did not know of all the things happening throughout Japan. She longed to see the outside world, instead of being caged within the walls of her own home. Just to go into the city, only a few miles away, would bring such joy into her heart. Toshiki looked again through the paper walls and imagined the tall figure of the samurai sitting in the middle of the room holding his sword in his hand. His eyes, concealed by the darkness, suddenly illuminated from within, staring into her soul. She inhaled slowly at the thought of him. Can it be possible, she thought, to see into such a man's heart?
~
After refreshing herself in the bathhouse, Toshiki walked up the steps to return to her room. When she reached the top of the stairway something drew her to the end of the hallway, the stateroom. She could feel his presence lurking, creeping up slowly to devour her. She fled into her room and shut the doors. Fear was not something she was familiar with, however, his aura was overpowering in both dread and reverence. Yet, there was something in that man she could not ignore. Though her conscience told her to put it aside, her heart urged her forward.
She clothed herself in a simple yukata, littered with butterflies and flower petals, combed her hair until it sparkled and went to meet with the ronin. The hallway seemed empty, deserted of all life, around the stateroom. A strange darkness hovered about the door, to dissuade any visitors. Toshiki felt it, but continued onward. Putting her smooth fingers on the sliding door she opened it slightly and peered inside. The room was vacant. Widening the entrance she stepped inside and looked around the room. It was decorated the same as always. The only thing different was the presence of two swords resting on their stand. Her eyes widened and a yelp caught in her throat as she turned around. Standing in the once barren doorway was the magnificent warrior, tall and sleek, his long red hair glowing in the sunlight that was streaming thought the open window. Amber jewels stared down at her with an air of superiority and confidence. Overwhelmed, she collapsed to the floor before him, nearly prostrate on the tatami.
He stepped toward her and hissed, "Who are you?"
Trembling beneath his shadow she replied, "Gomenasai, bushi-sama. I." Her eyes lifted and she stared into his breathtaking gaze. "I only wished.to."
"To get yourself killed?"
Toshiki's eyes flickered in emerald gold at the blunt and threatening statement. The ronin slid across the room and approached his sleeping blades. Toshiki's eyes followed his every movement, anxious to find the words to say to him, fearful and yet hopeful of his reaction. The swordsman picked up his katana and caressed its smooth hilt.
"You should know better, than to be interested in strange swordsman." Irritated at her company, the ronin sighed and said, "Go back to your room, foolish girl. There is nothing for you to be curious about." The swordsman walked toward her, blade in hand, forcing her outside with his piercing stare. He watched her rush to her room on the far end of the hallway, then, nonchalantly, closed the doors.