A PortalWerks Fanfiction
Samurai 7: Honor's Heir
Chapter 3: Sword!
The inside of Masamune's workshop was grimy and cluttered with all manner of broken machinery and unwanted castoffs. Masamune shrugged as he grinned at Kenzoku's slightly bemused expression. "I told you, it isn't much. But, for the time being, it's your home away from home."
Kenzoku muttered something under his breath as he gingerly walked in.
Masamune pointed over to a far corner. "You can put that load over there, my good monk. I'll handle the rest."
Nenjuzu set the load of scrap metal down and sat near a roaring furnace. "Ah… warm! I almost forgot what it's like to have a good fire to sit next to."
The tinker grinned at the machine-monk's remark as he turned to Katsushiro. "Now then, take a seat, my old friend. What is it that you wanted to talk about?"
Katsushiro quickly explained the gist of their situation in a few sentences and observations.
Masamune shook his head as he fixed Kenzoku with a baleful, monocled eye. "So… you're the kid who wants to take up Kikuchiyo's burden? More stupid than brave, in my opinion… but if you think you've got what it takes, I'm not gonna stop you."
Kenzoku looked down at the hilt of Kikuchiyo's broken weapon. "Bah… I can't be a samurai without a sword. Pops, ya got a spare weapon anywhere in those junkheaps of yours?"
The tinker grumbled. "I am NOT your 'Pops'. Honestly, kids these days, they got no sense of manners… And no, I've got no spare weapons."
"Well…!"
Katsushiro shook his head as he gave Kenzoku a warning glance. "Kid… settle down. I'm not sure whether it would be any good to even" Masamune waved a hand to silence the young samurai as he picked up a set of blacksmith's tools. "Let it pass. I'm gonna help the kid out with his problem. I'm sure ol' Kiku wouldn't mind this either." The tinker walked over to a large forge. "Kid, if you want to see a blade on the end of that sword, move your butt over here and help me out."
"Oh… uh, yeah…" Blinking in some surprise, the kid got to his feet and began running back and forth to get firewood under Masamune's directions.
Once the blaze was hot enough, Masamune motioned for Kenzoku to hand him the broken sword hilt. Taking a glance at the wrecked blade, the tinker quickly started to work as he pulled out certain pieces of metal out of a nearby heap. Katsushiro and Nenjuzu also began bringing in pieces of metal that Masamune indicated he wanted from other piles of scrap.
Soon, there was the rhythmic tattoo of a pounding hammer. Lulled into drowsiness by the repetitive staccato, Kenzoku soon fell asleep.
Kenzoku began to dream.
Fog swirled around him as he continued to run. He didn't know why or where he was running to. His legs simply took him at their own pace.
There was the sound of a conflagration. Kenzoku paused.
Dead bodies lined the streets of the small village. The only living being stood in the center of the main thoroughfare.
Stumbling over, Kenzoku noticed that the figure held a bloodied sword. His legs took him closer… and closer… and closer… and closer… Until he was face-to-face with the figure standing in the street.
Kenzoku's eyes widened in shock as the fog cleared around the figure's countenance. The boy tried to yell, to whisper, to scream, to do anything… but his voice was gone.
The face staring back at him… was his own.
The double standing in front of him grinned evilly as it indicated a particular pair of bodies with its sword. Kenzoku slowly looked down.
The bodies of his parents lay in the street. Denial was all that Kenzoku could do. A scream finally came.
"No… NO… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" With a violent start, the boy awoke in a cold sweat.
A huge hand clapped his shoulder to restrain him. "Easy, boy. You've obviously been having a nightmare." Nenjuzu was standing over him with a bowl of miso soup in hand. "Want to tell me about it?"
Kenzoku grimaced, but then looked rather embarrassed. "I… I forgot what it was about!"
The machine-monk laughed. "That happens to me quite often. In any case, your nighttime writhing made it quite difficult to change your clothes."
"Ehh…?" Kenzoku looked down at his clothing and leapt up in surprise. "EIIIIIIE!"
Katsushiro walked in and smiled wanly. "You look a lot like Kikuchiyo now. A fitting tribute for one whose will you now carry."
Kenzoku's rough, homespun peasant clothes had been replaced with an oversized red tunic and straw-yellow shorts, with designs etched onto it that resembled those of Kikuchiyo's armor. Where his old cloth bandanna had been tied around his forehead, a metal-plated head protector complete with an eyeslit had now replaced it.
Kenzoku scratched his head, dumbfounded. "Who the heck…?"
Katsushiro smiled lightly. "It was Masamune's idea. He figured that since you're going to carry Kikuchiyo's sword, you might as well look the part. Besides, your clothing was starting to stink. Don't you ever do any laundry?"
Kenzoku turned bright red. "I do… I've just forgotten to do it lately."
"He really does look quite a bit like Kikuchiyo."
Masamune had walked out from behind one of his numerous piles of scrap as he finished wiping his hands. "Well, then. I must say, kid, you gave me a lot of work to do. Took me almost the whole night to finish it."
An eager expression of anticipation lit up Kenzoku's face. "So is it…"
The tinker laughed. "Haha… the young. Impatient as usual. Why don't you just come and see it?" Motioning for Kenzoku to follow him, Masamune walked over behind a scrap heap.
Kenzoku followed… and stood stock-still as he saw the blade sitting in front of him on top of an anvil.
Kikuchiyo's old blade had been drastically altered, polished, and cleaned. One of the two handles had been removed to allow for easier use by Kenzoku's smaller hands. The length of the handle had been shortened. And a new blade replaced the old, battered one.
The new blade was somewhat shorter than the old one, but the sheen and sharpness of the edge attested to its superiority over the old blade.
Masamune rubbed the back of his head. "That blade took forever for me to make. Those metals for the alloy weren't easy to find, let me tell you."
"Amazing…" It was all that Kenzoku could manage to utter. Taking one halting step towards the blade, the boy stretched out a hand… and hesitated.
Nenjuzu laughed at Kenzoku's behavior. "Don't be so shy about picking up a new blade, Kenzoku. It's not a girl, you know."
Taking a deep breath, Kenzoku grumbled something about impertinent monks, grabbed the hilt, and lifted the sword off the anvil. Kenzoku was immediately struck by the lightness of the new weapon.
Kenzoku turned around and slowly started to take a few practice swings. "It feels wonderful. It feels like a part of my hand…"
Masamune smiled. "That is the gratification of a hard night's work. Well, that settles that, then."
The boy turned around to face the tinker. His eyes were moist. "Master, is there any possible way in which I could repay y-"
Masamune snorted and waved away his offer. "No pay accepted, boy. I didn't just forge this sword for you."
"…?"
The tinker sighed as he thought of a certain machine-samurai. "I did this for Kikuchiyo's sake as well. The old rustbucket was a good friend to me. It would have been evil of me to have neglected him and his legacy after all that he had done for a small village of peasants." Masamune removed his monocle and wiped at his eyes. "Kid…"
Kenzoku looked up from his appraisal of the new sword. "Hmm?"
"You will have a lot to live up to in order to prove yourself to that weapon and its owner. Don't let them down."
The boy returned his gaze upon the new weapon and nodded. "I won't." Taking a sudden swing with the new blade, Kenzoku stuck it into a nearby pile of scrap as he turned to the others. "Let's head for Kanna! I've got a sword to return!"
Katsushiro nodded as he grunted agreement. "Yes! We mustn't keep them waiting." He turned to Masamune. "You have done much for us, Master, but we still need further assistance from you. Is that route to the elevator train still useable?"
Masamune nodded as he opened up a trapdoor in the floor. "Aye. I've managed to jury-rig a new cargo tram as well, so leaving shouldn't be a problem. The local police completely forgot about cordoning off the platform after all that chaos when the Emperor died. It's somewhat crude, but I don't think that's going to be a problem for your purposes. Just try not to wreck it this time, okay…?"
Katsushiro winked. "Don't worry yourself about that." He then turned to Nenjuzu. "What about you?"
The machine-monk chuckled. "Actually, I was wondering if I could tag along. I haven't had this much fun in a long while."
The young samurai smiled lightly. "Well… if you get hurt, don't come to me for help!"
Nenjuzu pounded his chest with a fist. "Bah, don't worry about me, you young rip. Worry about yourselves!" With that, Nenjuzu grabbed up his belongings. "Well, what are we waiting for, then? Shouldn't keep those villagers waiting!"
Kenzoku grinned. "Hoi! You said it, monk!"
Masamune laughed as he pulled out a huge ladder. "Well said. Come, my friends. Down we go!"
The trip through the maze of air ducts and tunnels proved relatively uneventful. Within a few hours, the group found itself on a large platform attached to a train track that pointed straight down into the valley's depths. A crude-looking trolley that looked as if it had been pieced together from a wrecked locomotive hung onto the tracks.
Katsushiro smiled. "This brings back memories."
"Huh?" Kenzoku cocked an eyebrow in question.
"Last time we fled Kougakyou, we took this exact same route. I still miss everyone." Katsushiro thought for a second, then shook off the memories as he stepped into the trolley. "Er… how does this work? Heihachi was always better at these things."
"Heihachi?" Kenzoku had been scrutinizing a series of dials attached to a nearby pylon.
"An old friend. I'll tell you about him later."
Masamune quickly shoveled a bucket of coal into the rear of the trolley as he adjusted several pulleys. "Well, that should do it. Just keep a firm grip on that brake lever there, and don't go wild with the speed. The end of the line should take you outside the city walls." He wiped his monocle again. "If you ever see Kambei again in this world, give him my greetings for me."
Katsushiro bowed. "I will, Master Masamune. Thanks again for everything, old friend."
Nenjuzu and Kenzoku quickly hopped into the back of the trolley as Masamune kicked the release lever. "Take care, Pops! Eat some riceballs for me!"
"Farewell, you young scamp! Take care of that sword for me!" Masamune yelled as he waved farewell.
A few more meters, and then the platform and the tinker standing on it disappeared from view.
The fast-moving trolley did not go unnoticed as it shot out from a side-tunnel. Some distance away, on another section of track, another well-dressed merchant observed the trolley's progress through a pair of binoculars. There was another click.
"…Yes?"
"This is Jiro. I've found them, sir. Second rail-line of the third quadrant. They're on some sort of a steam-powered trolley."
"Excellent. Call in the nearest constabulary and notify them that the target has been found. Don't lose them, Jiro."
"Yes sir."
The communicator clicked off, and Jiro picked up a nearby telephone. "Constable platoon 33-F, report to Rail-line 4 of Quadrant 3. Targets have been sighted."
Kenzoku nodded in approval as the trolley shot down the tracks. "Good! With this speed, we should be outta the city soon. That old man sure knows how to build a mean ride!"
The machine-monk sitting next to him nodded as he looked down at the huge valley below them. "Aye. That Masamune is an able fellow. I'll have to remember to pay him another visit when this is all over."
Katsushiro suddenly froze.
"Is something wrong, Master?"
"Hush! I think something's following us!" Katsushiro looked up in alarm as a dark mass suddenly descended from above.
A huge steam locomotive was catching up from behind. Standing on the front platform was a group of constables, and a pair of can-shaped armorsuits.
Kenzoku cursed. "Dammit! We've been found! They must have spotters everywhere!"
Katsushiro pulled onto the brake lever as he motioned to Nenjuzu. "Sir, I need you to hold onto this brake lever. Don't let go of it."
The monk nodded as he gripped the brake with a firm hand. "Don't worry, Master. Just take care of those fellows above us!"
Katsushiro motioned to Kenzoku. "Well, then, let's see what sort of greeting we should give them."
Kenzoku grinned as he clambered onto the rear fender with his sword in hand. "I vote for a rude one!"
The samurai smiled as he pulled out his own weapon. "Well said. Let's go!"
The first pair of constables that had tried to leap onto the fleeing trolley was punted aside by the flat of Kenzoku's huge blade. The next pair managed to dodge the first series of swings and started to exchange blows with the trolley's defenders.
Amidst the confusion, another locomotive sped by on a neighboring section of track. Several constables jumped off the engine's boarding platform and jumped onto the trolley's front end.
Nenjuzu cursed. "By the hot and cold Hells!" Grabbing up his staff, the machine-monk knocked one of the officers off the fender before the remainder grabbed up some knives and stuck them into a section of rubber piping that was looped around the front end.
There was a hiss of escaping lubricant as the officers abruptly let go of the fender and leapt away into the darkness. The monk cursed as he realized that the hydraulics line for the brake had been sliced open.
"KYAAAARRGHH!" Kenzoku jumped onto the front end of the pursuing engine behind them and plunged the huge blade into the front end of the boiler. The jet of steam that issued from the gash forced the other constables on the platform to jump off in order to escape the scalding gas.
Kenzoku grinned at his handiwork and jumped back onto the rear fender of the trolley. Even as he did so, the ruptured boiler suddenly went to pieces, tearing the pursuing engine's chassis to ribbons.
Katsushiro nodded in approval and turned to Nenjuzu. "How are we doing?"
"Poorly!" The monk snapped back as he continued to appraise the situation. "The brake line's been cut!"
In the distance, where the tracks curved into a path level with flat ground, a group of parked cargo cars could be seen blocking the way.
Kenzoku spat. "Damn! We're all gonna die!"
Katsushiro wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Is there any way to fix it?"
The monk shook his head. "No! And there's no jar of spare hydraulic fluid anyway! The brake's been rendered useless!" Grunting with exertion, the monk grabbed his staff and suddenly reached out over the front end of the platform.
Kenzoku shouted up in alarm. "Hoi, Nenjuzu! What the hell are you doing?"
"Shut up! The brake was my responsibility, and I'm going to make sure I take care of it…!" The monk gave a yell as he suddenly plunged his staff between the trolley's wheels. There was a shower of sparks as Nenjuzu continued to keep the staff lodged in the trolley's driveshaft.
"Nenjuzu!" Katsushiro yelled in alarm as the trolley started to tremble and shake.
"GYAAAAAAAH!" Steam poured out from the machine-monk's exhaust pipe as he maintained his grip on the staff. "FOR THE MIDDLE WAAAAY!"
The trolley was enveloped by steam.
There was a final shower of sparks, and the trolley suddenly skidded to a halt. Kenzoku stared at a steel door handle that stood mere inches from his head. "…Nice save."
Nenjuzu collapsed as he finally let go of his staff. "Hooooooooooh…"
Katsushiro sighed as he re-sheathed his weapon. "That was close, but you will hear no complaints from me. If it weren't for you, we might have surely perished."
The monk chuckled. "You never know. Anyway, next time I'm walking." Wrenching his staff out with a sharp burst of effort, Nenjuzu examined the bottom portion.
The lower section had been twisted and charred into a strange, spiral-like shape as it had been wrapped around the trolley's spinning driveshaft. Nenjuzu laughed. "I guess it would serve for good decoration and as a fine story to tell over a bottle of sake."
Kenzoku scrambled out of the trolley and glanced around. "Where are we…?"
Katsushiro stared at a large section of wall tagged with graffiti. "If I didn't know any better… Well, I'll be. We've landed near Kougakyou's entertainment district."
Nenjuzu looked up as he picked up his bundle of possessions. "You familiar with this place?"
The samurai nodded. "Another old comrade of mine lives here. We might be able to rest safely inside. As far as I can remember, the entertainment district has its own police rules, and is usually exempt from outside interference." Katsushiro smiled wryly. "Almost anybody is welcome to enter, so long as they bring with them the intention of refreshment, and as long as they don't disturb the peace."
"Sounds like a perfect place for a crime ring to me," Kenzoku muttered as he hefted his sword. "But I'm not complaining if there's food and a bed to be found. Are we gonna go in?"
Katsushiro nodded. "Would be good for us. I wonder if he still has that route open…"
Kenzoku arched an eyebrow. "Route? What route?"
"Forget it. I'll explain later… if we can find him." Katsushiro beckoned for the others to follow. "Let's go."
Striding through the open gates, the trio walked into a glittering street of neon lights, constant noise, and the smell of cigarettes, money, and fleshly pleasures.
Nenjuzu coughed. "The demons of the lower hells would have a field day with this kind of place."
Katsushiro politely waved away several scantily clad ladies that attempted to drape themselves over his well-built frame. "Sorry. Not interested." The group of prostitutes pouted at having lost such a fine catch.
Kenzoku made a face as a nearby drunkard blew sake-scented breath into his face before stumbling away. "How does this friend of yours manage to live in a place like this?"
Katsushiro was silent for a short moment. "When you've lived on a battlefield, almost any other place is preferable. Even if it is filled with all the fleshly vices of humanity."
The inn hadn't changed a bit ever since the first time Katsushiro had set foot here. It still had that tacky neon sign in the front, and once again, another drunken samurai was being kicked down the front steps.
Katsushiro looked down at the erstwhile guest, then looked up at a figure dressed in garishly clashing clothes. The figure looked down at the trio, and then suddenly gave a start of surprise.
"…Katsushiro? My boy, is that you?"
Katsushiro smiled as he beckoned for Kenzoku and Nenjuzu to follow him up the steps. He then turned back to the figure standing at the top of the stairs. "It's been a long time, Master Shichiroji."
"Don't 'Master' me, you young rascal!" Shichiroji smiled as an attractive-looking woman joined him.
Katsushiro bowed to the new arrival. "Oh, greetings to you as well, Miss Yukino."
Yukino smiled in greeting. "That's 'Missus', now." She smiled at Shichiroji, who blushed in embarrassment. "We've been married for the last two years now."
"Congratulations!" Katsushiro smiled at Shichiroji. "I'm very happy for you, Shichiroji."
Yukino kissed her husband. "We're expecting a child in seven months."
Shichiroji rubbed the back of his head as he grinned sheepishly. "Well, anyway, this conversation's not becoming fit for the public street. Let's at least continue this discussion in a more comfortable setting. Please, why don't you and your friends join us for the dinner hour?"
Kenzoku drooled at the prospect of a good meal. "Food… lead me to it!"
The quality of the meal, the service, and the entertainment was still excellent, just as Katsushiro remembered it to be. "Your dedication to your business hasn't changed a bit, Shichiroji."
Shichiroji grinned. "As always, my young friend, this place is forever open for those who wish to cleanse their bodies and minds. But tell me, so you and your friends are all heading back to Kanna?"
Katsushiro nodded as he indicated Kenzoku with a pair of chopsticks. "Aye. This young scamp here needs to apologize to Kikuchiyo for having borrowed his sword without permission."
Kenzoku facefaulted. "You don't need to be so blunt, Katsushiro."
Shichiroji smiled. "He's just like ol' Kikuchiyo too, eh, Katsushiro?"
"Aye. A buffoon in body, a samurai in spirit." Katsushiro smiled as he thought back. "Say, Shichiroji, have you heard from Master Kambei lately?"
Shichiroji grinned. "Aye. Last I heard from him, he gave up the way of the warrior. I hear he's now a priest serving his duties at the monastery of Itsu-Ji." The former samurai's grin widened. "You know, he's quite a sight to behold now. Can you just imagine Kambei without his flowing hair? When I first went to visit him, I almost screamed the first time I saw him."
Kenzoku quirked an eyebrow. "Who is this Master Kambei you're all talking about?"
Katsushiro smiled in recollection. "Kambei was a close friend and comrade of Shichiroji. He was also the leader of the Seven who saved Kanna." Katsushiro looked back over to Shichiroji. "In any case, it's good to hear that he's doing well. Where is Itsu-Ji? I may wish to pay him a visit."
"Itsu-Ji is located to the far east of the desert. It should be close to the road that travels between Kougakyou and Kanna. It's a huge structure. Can't miss it."
Katsushiro bowed. "Thank you."
"Say, what about Kambei's sword? Have you been taking good care of it?"
Katsushiro nodded as he patted one of the blades strapped to his belt. "Aye. Haven't forgotten his lessons on maintenance."
Shichiroji grinned. "Once you've learned that lesson from him, you never forget it!"
Katsushiro's face now grew serious. "Master Shichiroji, I was wondering… is that route that leads through the domain of the Shikimoribito still open? I was wondering if-"
Shichiroji nodded. "Aye. It's still open, if you're looking for a shortcut out of the city. They're still doing business as usual, though I hear that Master Ayamaro has now joined them. It intrigues me to wonder how he manages to do work with his own two hands." Shichiroji yawned. "In any case, it's late. I suggest we turn in for tonight, and tomorrow I'll take you down to the canal."
Katsushiro nodded. "That will work. Thank you again for everything, Master Shichiroji."
Nenjuzu, who up until this point had been quietly sipping his tea, abruptly spoke up. "Master Shichiroji, a question."
"Hmm?"
"Are the Nobuseri still doing business with the Shikimoribito as well? I heard rumors that they were once regular business partners with them."
Shichiroji shook his head. "No. They were all killed at Kanna while we were defending the village."
The monk pointed at a nearby window as he snatched up his staff. "If they're all dead, then what do you call THAT?"
The gigantic faceplate of a Nobuseri warrior stared through the window.
To Be Continued…
