Chapter 3: First Kill

Chapter 3: First Kill

Night had fallen by the time the odd pair had made their way into the town of Otsu. Not quite large enough to be called a city, but larger than a town, the streets were rather deserted except for the evening watch lighting the torches which lit the main road. The weaver offered Misao a place to sleep with his sister, but she graciously declined. With the slimmest possibility of Aoshi tracking the old man down, she had no urge to be present.

There was only one restaurant still open. It served noodles, dumplings, and rice along with an impressive array of alcohol. The special was an unfairly priced dish of what was most likely day-old fish stew. Picking a table in the corner, Misao ordered rice for herself and dumplings for Kitai. The green tea was weak and bitter, but she only had her personal savings to reach Tokyo. After her encounter with Himura on the road, she swore never to steal - even from thieves. If she had to, she could work her way across Japan.

Just as her food arrived by a short, skinny man with greasy hair, five others pushed through the doorway. They cast suspicious glances in her direction but she kept her eyes on her chopsticks. Strolling over to the restaurant owner, they grabbed three bottles of sake from behind the counter.

"Hey old man! You got the fee? You owe double since last week."

Without argument, the owner slipped into the kitchen. The four brutes, all dressed in yellow and green gi's, began passing the bottles among themselves. Misao silently analyzed their attitudes, and picked out the leader, a broad shouldered man who talked and drank as much as his partners, but his black eyes continually scanned the near-empty room. He frowned at the sight of Kitai eating on the floor next to her. The old man emerged with a small white bag in his hand. One of the underlings snatched it from him and handed it to the leader. Weighing it in one hand, he glared at the owner.

"Remember that next time we may not feel so charitable. Have the payment ready."

With a chorus of sneers, the other gang members smashed the sake bottles at the base of the counter before making their way out the door. Misao finished her meal and carefully stacked her dishes. The owner came over, pale and sweating to accept her payment. With a smile, she added the price of the sake to her tab. He bowed gratefully and bent to pat Kitai on the head.

Misao shouldered her bag and asked, "Is there a hotel nearby who rents cheap rooms for the night?"

The man raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Are you meaning a brothel?"

She coughed, "N-no! I am on my way to the city and need a place to stay."

The owner shook his head. "Ah, well this entire area is under control by those men who were just here. Any cheap room will belong to them. I advise you, young man, to sleep under the trees. It is safer that way."

Misao shrugged. "It looked like rain. Just tell me of a place."

"There is a hotel four blocks away. The fare is small, but you receive what you pay in quality." He eyed the black kitten. "And they do not appreciate animals."

Scooping up her companion, Misao smiled again and touched the brim of her hat in salute.

The hotel was small and rather dirty looking. Doors were patched and re-patched, windows shut improperly, and a few couples were being rather indiscreet in their activities. Misao rolled her eyes as she entered the compound after tucking Kitai into her bag. The black kitten only protested once, and then was thankfully silent. A sleepy-eyed girl answered her call, took the money, and shuffled down the hall to a vacant room. As she slid the door closed, a woman's voice screeched out,

"You wench! Where did you go this time? You know what night it is?"

The little girl's feet scampered back to the entrance. Curious, Misao quietly reentered the hallway and listened. The women was clearly mad about something.

"I feed and cloth you, yet you are always undercharging the customers! How am I supposed to pay those men? Do you want me to be put out of business? Do you want me to kick you out on the street where I found you? I could sell you to a brothel and get more money than I make here for a week."

The girl's voice was only a murmur.

"Then go around to the rooms and get another fee."

The main door opened and Misao felt like a cold breeze had swept through her body.

"I need a room."

The lady transformed into a most accommodating hostess. "Why certainly, honorable sir."

The gods really must be laughing. No matter where she went, Aoshi Shinomori managed to find her. She left no sign of her passage, kept her ki to the smallest ember, and yet here he was again.

She closed the door to her room and held her breath. Thankfully the woman led him down the opposite corridor. Misao set her bag down on the futon and opened it. Kitai was sound asleep on top of her Oniwaban uniform. With a smile, she gently rubbed her behind the ears before leaning against the wall to think. She had already paid for the night. If she left before the sun rose, she could possibly slip past him. Or, if she left extra late, he might have already departed.

She heard the main door open again and the woman's voice rise. She didn't even have to open the door to know who the latecomers were.

"Look woman, we followed him here. It's none of your business what for."

"Since when did you care about your customers anyway?"

The woman shrieked. "You take my money, but you will not kill anyone in my building!"

"Who said anything about killing the twerp. We only want his cash. Little fancy-dressed kid traveling alone? No one would miss him."

Misao frowned. Were they talking about her?

The voices of the four gangsters approached her room. Grabbing the thin cover from the futon, Misao quickly rigged up a diversion.

The door broke open. Misao raised the sheet she had tied to a low table and tripped the first intruder. A second followed with an ungraceful thud in a tangle of yellow and green gi's. Misao jumped on the second man's back and launched herself into the chest of the next person standing in the doorway. As he fell back into the hall, she caught the frame and swung back into her room. The first man grabbed her by the ankle but she kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. He screamed and rolled away. The man she had used as a spring board regained his footing and drew a knife. Misao paused, scanning the small room's decor.

The leader who had waited for the others to take the first blows now stepped over the torn sheet and glared.

"You should just give us your cash, runt. We'll spare your life - but not a lot of pain."

Misao snatched the headrest from the futon and held it in both hands. The knife welder laughed derisively and thrust. The blade jammed in the soft pine wood and she wrenched it from his grasp. Dipping her head under a fist, she brought the headrest cracking across the man's temple. He fell with a groan. Someone grabbed her from behind, yanking hard on the collar of her western shirt. Two buttons popped. Dropping to one knee, she reached back and took hold of the hand that was pulling her backwards. She turned the tables and the third man who had been kicked into the hall found himself looking down into a small but effective fist. He reeled, but Misao wasn't finished with him yet.

Rolling onto her back, she shot both feet straight up, catching the gangster in the chin, snapping his head back, and knocking him out cold. But the gang leader slipped around his fallen underling and caught Misao in the side with a kick of his own. Crashing into the wall, Misao felt her ki rise behind her self-disciplined walls. If she let it out, Aoshi would most likely pick up on it. The leader snarled and drew a long knife from his belt that glittered in the lamplight. The edge was serrated to cause maximum damage. Misao's adrenaline boiled and her ki exploded.

The gang leader waited for the other two men to stagger to their feet. Her back to the wall, Misao eyed her bag in the corner just out of reach. All three charged, the leader flanked by his henchmen. Misao met them half way, twisting away from the knife and kicking the man on the left directly in the crotch. He crumpled. Grabbing the leader's wrist, she used her lighter weight and agility to leap over the man's shoulder, dragging his arm with her. As she landed, her foot caught him in the back of his knee, causing him to collapse. The remaining gangster swung his fists as she struggled to pry the knife from the leader's hand. She evaded his blows, but was knocked off her feet by the leader who had taken advantage of her distraction.

The two rolled on the floor of the small room, crashing into the man still throwing punches. The leader had the upper hand with his weight, black eyes gleaming in triumph, forcing Misao to devote all her strength in holding him at bay. With the knife inches away from her neck, she took a chance and twisted her wrist enough to release a kuni. She heaved upwards, her blade sliding under the leader's arm and into his chest. He choked and let go. Ignoring the warm wetness seeping into her shirt, Misao withdrew the kuni and stabbed the foot of the remaining gangster, pinning it to the wooden floor. He screamed and fell.

Panting, Misao stood and surveyed the damage. One attacker was unconscious, another crying pitifully in the corner, a third cradling his foot, and the leader was dead. Misao raised her hand to push back her hair, only to cringe at the sight of the leader's blood. The pounding of feet and shouts gave warning that the fight was about to be investigated. Misao's eyes widened when she felt the cold aura of Aoshi rapidly approaching. Grabbing her bag with Kitai still slumbering inside, Misao opened the small window and dropped to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on dampening her ki once more and then faded into the shadows. It looked like she would be sleeping under the trees anyway.