The Hundred Item List
Hataori
By Leishe
The marketplace of Kyoto was a pleasant place to be, alive and bustling in the later hours of the morning. Light filtered in softly; it wasn't such a hot day today, while the air smelled of the usual; dried fruits, fresh vegetables, and the enchanting fragrance of the jasmine tea leaves.
People milled about happily, some merchants and vendors, some buyers, all hagglers. Children ran around squealing, with the older ones hurriedly running off to school and the younger ones tagging along behind their mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, or perhaps even their grandparents.
A familiar pair of children chased through the crowd.
"Komachi, hurry up, we're gonna be late!"
The small girl glared at her older brother, struggling to keep up. "Coming, coming," she mumbled, dragging the two packed lunches along. It was a warm, humid day, and everything was getting sticky and hot.
Mamoru looked up at the clear sky, shading his eyes with his hand. "Sensei Kanzaki's probably there already…" he murmured, casting an impatient glance back at his sister.
"If only you'd carry the lunch—" she retorted, "—we wouldn't be late, then you wouldn't have to shout at me, and everything would be less—"
She stopped, all of a sudden.
The older boy looked back and blinked at her. "Uh…okay." He scratched his head. "Aren't you going to finish?"
But Komachi didn't finish. She just stood there, with her eyes going a bit wide, and her mouth hanging open slightly. Her gaze seemed to go past her brother…somewhere behind…
Mamoru frowned, and made a movement to grab her hand. "What's wrong? Stop standing there…we'd better get goi—yaaagh!" The boy yelped as he felt someone grab him roughly by the collar of his shirt, and lift him into the air. Somewhere, a snicker escaped someone's lips.
His sister only stood there, gaping.
.0o0.
The shuffling sound of people settling onto mats was heard inside the restaurant, as well as the soft hum of conversation being exchanged over a delicious meal of Uni Maki and Ebi Tempura. The mood was light inside the Aoiya, and there were not too many customers today, the main reason being that the Shirobeko had announced an all-you-can-eat buffet for anyone who purchased a meal that cost over one hundred and sixty yen.
Shiro's hand grabbed Misao's shoulder just in time, making the ninja girl stumble back into the kitchen. The man looked at her accusingly.
"And just where are YOU going, Misao-chan?"
The young woman shot him a wounded look, before answering. "Can't a growing girl go out and get some decent food to eat, once in a while?"
"You're on duty today," the big man replied, not taking his hand off her shoulder. "Didn't you listen to Okon a while ago?"
"Jeez, you're becoming more like her everyday, you know?" she replied, brushing his hand off and rolling her eyes. "And for your information," Misao added, "I DID listen to her." Shiro raised an eyebrow.
"No going out till your shift is over, okay?" he lectured. "Besides, we don't want you getting into trouble again."
Misao waved him off dismissively, picking herself up.
"Oh come on, Shiro," she turned around to face him, with her arms obliquely downward, as if to present herself. The girl grinned. "I'm seventeen, for kami-sama's sake!"
Ring! Ring!
"Gyozaebisutekkamakiudonkatsukiyaki!" Omasu's shrill voice rang into the kitchen, along with the sound of the small food bell. It was time to bring in the cooked meals.
The male ninja pointed an arm towards the dining area of the restaurant, keeping one eye on the reluctant waitress. Misao slumped her shoulders as Shiro pushed the flat wooden tray into her hands. He prodded her impatiently.
"Go on. Go. The customers can't wait forever, you know."
The young woman let out a breath, rolling her eyes once more. "I know, I know."
Shiro chuckled to himself quietly, as he watched the weasel girl shuffle towards the counter, where Omasu pushed out dish upon dish of food, and pile them onto the tray. The door to the dining room slid open, and then shut.
Shiro stood there for a little while longer, staring at the door.
"Well," the fat man murmured to himself, "I suppose she is getting a bit more responsible…" he trailed off, sighed, and shook his head. "Little Misao is growing up, then."
.0o0.
He walked down the wide dirt road like most travellers did; with the dust trailing softly behind him, and the dry wind lifting the ends of his bangs from his face from time to time. In appearance, he was like them: with dusty, shoddy clothes and worn-out sandals, yet in gait, he was totally different.
The farmers walked with a weary, tired trudge, sometimes accompanied by the dismal cloppety-clop of the hooves of their oxen, or the irritating chatter of the chickens that weren't fat enough yet to sell at the market.
"Oi! You there! Boy!"
He looked up to see a tall brown horse right behind him, with an equally tall man perched on top of it.
"Get out of the way!"
The merchants travelled on their horses, and seldom on foot. They strode forward deliberately, at a brisk, businesslike pace, eager to start trading or to begin setting up shop in the next town. These men smelled slightly of western cigarettes, and some even wore foreign clothing.
Soujiro was like none of them, preferring to let both farmers, merchants, and commoners pass him by as he walked down the wide dirt road towards Kyoto at a relaxed, easy pace. He smiled although there was nothing to smile at, and more to complain about. But it didn't matter, really. He was nearing the city now, and that was what was important.
The young man blinked as he watched a man pulling a wooden cart filled with bundled-up swords.
His hand flew to his own, now familiar sakabattou, and hints of a grin crept up his mouth.
Kyoto.
There was something about that place that drew Soujiro to it, but what it was, he didn't really know. Maybe it was the marketplace, with its colourful crowd and alluring sense of community, or maybe it was the riverside, where there was peace and calm, with the sound of the tree leaves rustling as you slept.
"Excuse me, young man."
Soujiro looked up to see the sagging face of an old woman.
"Have you seen a young lady with her husband and a little boy? My daughter-in-law disappeared somewhere, and I can't find her…"
The young man shook his head apologetically, and the woman moved on, asking several more strangers as she went.
Maybe it was that feeling that had welled up inside of him on that fateful rainy night, when he thought that no one would trust him when he brought in that injured Oniwabanshu girl, Makimachi Misao. They had taken him in like he was an old friend, not an enemy, and certainly, not the infamous Tenken no Soujiro.
It was something that he did not quite understand.
Enemies were enemies, weren't they? Only so many people could have the honor of being the strongest, and as the late Shishio-san had said, the road to greatness was splattered with blood.
They had proven him wrong, those Oniwabanshu, and the old master already believed that he was a changed man. But was he, really?
A small sigh escaped his slightly parted lips, and Soujiro fidgeted as he watched a woman herd a dozen sheep down the path, while her husband led the way with their family cart. He surmised that they were nomads, like him. It was a little unusual to see a pack of shepherds going in the direction of the city.
"There it is! There! It's Kyoto!" the excited squeal of a small girl managed to chase chuckles from the current passerby, and the young man let his eyes alight momentarily on her face, bright like the full moon, before shifting his gaze to the sight before them all.
It was Kyoto, indeed. The city gates loomed up in front of the travellers, and many of them started lining their carts and belongings up for inspection.
He opted to go straight in, like the other travellers without many belongings on them. Laughter echoed into his ears, from the young men walking in front of him, who were saying something about the money changing business.
Soujiro shook his head slightly and smiled. Strangely, it felt good to be back.
.0o0.
Mamoru was used to being dangled a few feet off the ground by a huge, cruel bully. After all, this happened to him almost everyday, when he and Komachi passed through the marketplace.
The boy was in his mid-teens, had a stocky built, and the brownest teeth anyone had ever seen. Sweat glistened on his forehead, as Taro flashed the younger boy a smug grin. His eyes were on the lunch that the little girl held protectively to her chest.
"Well, well. The Nibori siblings. What's for lunch this time?"
Komachi didn't move, glaring at the boy, not letting go of the bento boxes. Her eyes were like ice.
"Let go of Mamoru!" she shrieked. The bully just laughed. "Only of you give me my lunch, little girl."
The older brother struggled in the teenager's tight grasp, fighting to get loose. "It's not your lunch, you stupid dog! Leave her alone!"
Upon hearing this, the bully scowled, dropping the little boy on the hard, dusty ground. Mamoru landed on his bottom, and was not hurt much, being accustomed to this kind of treatment.
"You want to fight me again?" Taro demanded, a devilish grin lurking at the ends of his mouth.
"Just leave her alone!" Mamoru had already balled his fists, ready to take the bigger boy on. If this was the only way they were going to get out of this, then so be it.
The bully fired the first punch without warning, and caught the younger boy on his jaw. He was sent flying backwards, landing flat on his back in the dust.
Crash!
Mamoru didn't move.
"Onichan!"
Komachi was at his side in an instant, and her eyes widened at what the older boy had done to her brother. There was blood all over his mouth; a sight that she was definitely not used to seeing.
"Mamoru!" she cried, shaking him. Slowly, the boy opened his eyes. The blurred image of his sister appeared, and he got to his feet laboriously.
"Komachi…go to Kanzaki-sensei…run…" he spoke with gritted teeth, eyes focused on only one person. A few feet away, the bully grinned some more. He seemed to enjoy pathetic, one-sided fights like these.
"No! I will not go!" the little girl was defiant. "You're going to get hurt! Just stop, will you!"
Mamoru didn't look at her. "If I win, he will leave us alone."
Frustrated, frightened and angry, Komachi stared at her brother in utter disbelief. What was happening to him? Why was he like this all of a sudden? Not knowing what else to do, and being the young, impulsive girl that she was, the little sister threw her head back and screamed.
.0o0.
"Miss, there's a HUGE mosquito floating in my miso soup…could you replace it?"
Misao stifled a groan and turned around, balancing all three of the wooden trays successfully while she took the bowl of the complaining customer. The young woman put on a forced smile.
"Of course. My pleasure."
Taking an order of a family of three a few tables away, Okon could not help but look at the ninja girl, and chuckle quietly. It was always amusing to watch Misao work at the restaurant, especially since the opportunity was so rare. The woman turned back to her customers.
"…would you like a pot of tea to go with that?"
Misao was on her way to the kitchen then, balancing all that she had with her carefully. She sidestepped a few tables, weaving her way through the quiet commotion as quickly and as skilfully as she could. The young woman had almost made it to the counter, when a piercing scream sliced the air in half.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
Crash!
The trays clattered to the floor, as Misao looked up in bewilderment. Fragments of porcelain lay strewn around the wooden flatboards, along with several plates. She turned her head towards the direction of the scream. It was from outside, in the general direction of the marketplace.
"What's going on out there?" She didn't like the tone of the scream…it was…disturbing. Misao always did have sensitive ears. Her feet were soundless as they walked out of the restaurant, driven by curiosity and growing concern.
"Misao-chan?" Omasu peeked out of the kitchen, curious as to what was going on. "Misao-chan, where are you going?"
Nothing answered her; only silence and the quiet hum of the restaurant.
"Mi…chan?"
The older woman let out a sigh. Ever since the weasel girl was a child, she had always been like that; when someone was in trouble, she was one of the first to help. It was one of her better traits as a person, even if one really took Misao that seriously. Misao was Misao, and nothing would change. She was the young and bright okashira; the occasionally reckless and happy-go-lucky girl.
Okon smiled.
Okina probably thought of her as a daughter, and it was evident that they all loved her as if she were their own sister. Misao was the small thing that brightened up the days of the Oniwabanshu; everyone's younger sibling, part of the family…even for Aoshi.
Omasu paused at that thought, wondering. Yes, she concluded. Misao was like a sister. Even for Aoshi.
.0o0.
Taro was getting annoyed. Really, he was. Not only did the little tramp refuse him his lunch, but the wench just had to wail about incessantly in her high-pitched, irritating howl. Really, now. Where were civilized punching bags these days?
The bully gritted his teeth. Mamoru was no match for him, obviously. Tossing a younger boy around was getting old, when he did it almost everyday. Why, that little rat couldn't even get up right after the first punch, let alone the second one!
Taro cast a disinterested glance at the boy, who was lying facedown in the dirt.
He began walking towards Komachi, and her teared-up eyes widened as she saw his hulking form approach. The small girl began to tremble, and at the same time, the sound of a door flying open was heard.
"Shut up, little girl," growled the boy, grabbing her thin arm roughly. She shrieked and tried to pull away from him, but it was of no avail. Mamoru tried to get up, but he was too weak to fight. Instead, the young boy reached for a stone lying near him, and flung it at Taro's head.
The stone bounced off the back of the older boy's nape, and fell to the ground. The bully ignored it, still holding onto Komachi. His long, dirty fingers reached out to grab the lunch that she held tightly to herself.
"No!" cried the little girl, "It's not yours!"
"Not for long." He sneered.
But as Taro wrenched the box violently away from the younger Nibori sibling, another voice rang into the air.
"Hey, let go of her!"
Both children looked up in surprise at the owner of the voice. They blinked when they saw who it was.
She was a young woman, standing outside the Aoiya restaurant, dressed in a deep blue outfit and a white apron. Her arms were on her slim hips, and a frowning, defiant expression on her face. From where they were, she cast an intimidating persona. A long, black braid fluttered behind her in the weak breeze.
The teenager blinked also. He recognized her…she was one of those Oniwabanshu people. He was no stranger to their existence. They had saved his aunt's family's house once before from those freakish Juppongatana men.
But who exactly did this waitress girl think she was? To come in between him and his precious lunch was enough reason for the bully to hate them.
Taro took a step back, still holding onto the bento box. He scowled darkly.
"No."
Misao took a step forward. She really, really disliked bullies. Especially those who stole things from innocent, small children who wanted nothing more than to go to school peacefully, for once. Her green eyes flashed to the sobbing figure of the little girl. So. She was the screamer.
The young woman glared at the bully. She could see that he was only about two years younger than her. And the children were about…six or seven? A low growl escaped her throat.
"It's not nice to steal food from children."
Komachi, tears dribbling down her chin, looked up. She could sense something bad was going to happen.
.0o0.
The river and the trees were on the other side of town, near the Aoiya. It was probably a little cooler there than it was here, in the midst of people milling around. Soujiro considered speeding there, but decided against it, lest he attract attention from anyone. He looked up to the sky, shading his eyes. It was a clear, humid day. Very nice for a picnic.
"Pass it around, boys."
A bunch of men were gathered at the front of a sake shop, drinking. A few of them were drunk, some more than others. They were passing several bottles around, guzzling as they went. Soujiro glanced at them from out the corner of his eye. Oddly enough, their leader looked familiar.
He slackened his step. Of course, he thought. The men from the riverside. A small smirk formed on his lips. He could see that they hadn't changed much.
.0o0.
When the leader saw the boy walk by, he lowered the lip of the jug from his mouth, and stared at him in disbelief. It had been a long time since the 'tree girl' incident, but if his memory served him right, the kid with the sword walking by them right now was the same one who had beaten them all up more than a month ago.
His grip on the handle of the jug tightened. He turned to a sleazy-looking fat guy who sat nearby, casually jabbing a thumb at Soujiro.
"That kid again."
The man nodded and hiccupped, indicating that he didn't remember, or was too drunk to care. Another of his followers, however, took notice as well.
"You mean the one who—"
"Yeah, yeah…him." The leader waved the second man away casually. He didn't like reminiscing humiliating defeats. Especially if those defeats were at the hands of a scrawny little brat who looked like he hadn't eaten for days.
"So…what do we do to him boss? Should we follow 'im?"
The tall man slammed the jug onto a nearby table, taming down his violent hiccups. He looked at his men strangely.
"Sure. Just make sure he gets what he deserves. No one humiliates the handsomest men in Kyoto!"
Thirty more voices voiced their agreement loudly, raising their own jugs into the air, before guzzling down the unpaid-for sake. A wobbly grin climbed up the leader's mouth, and he swivelled his head in Soujiro's direction.
"Payback time, supernatural-boy."
Several people froze as he did this, but the young man just kept walking, as if oblivious.
.0o0.
Sho was a mere droplet in the massive sea of people crowding the marketplace during the lunch hour, and it was not uncommon to see the servants of the zaibatsu wandering around the city, often on trivial errands. Society had dismissed it as one of those "rich people things", and paid no heed.
"Oi."
"Hello."
This time, however, it was a little bit different.
Sho wiped his sweaty forehead with a piece of clean cloth, squinting his eyes in the midst of the bright, beating sunlight. His stomach groaned, even after the man had had his lunch. The servant grimaced.
"Lord Takeshi and his whims…" he muttered, frowning and sidestepping a drunk old man. "Why, if master Zenjiro hears of this, that young man will be in more trouble than he's worth…"
Takeshi had sent the his servant to Kyoto the day before, ordering the poor, overworked, yet obsessively dedicated Sho to weasel out the truth behind the seemingly mythical young man who was said to possess incredible speed. The servant had done everything in his power to dissuade the heir from doing so, but, unfortunately, Lord Takeshi had an annoying, unbelievably twisted, one-track mind.
"Go, please. Be back in two days, okay? I want to hear all about it." His hand moved slightly in the gesture of dismissal.
Those were the last words that Sho had heard from the young man, before he set off to journey to the capital city.
Tok.
Tok.
Tok.
…and now, he was walking along the streets at a leisurely pace, grateful for the change of scenery. Even though the man suspected he was being sent on a wild goose-chase, it was quite nice to be in Kyoto again.
"Fuuuji apples!"
"Live chickens at half price! Hurry, only twenty left!"
"Three hundred yen? Preposterous!"
"Okay…let's see if we can compromise…"
"…quick, get it when he's not looking!"
"…"
"Hey! Come back, you brats! THIEF! THIEEEF!"
Soon, Sho turned a corner, and found himself in a less populated area, lined with restaurants. He heard more voices once arriving there.
"…you can't hurt me!"
"Oh, I can, all right."
The cracking of knuckles.
"But whether I choose to hurt you or not still remains to be seen."
The servant perked his ears up, and with eyes widening, quietly observed the little drama that was taking place in the sparsely populated street. There were about only four participants standing on the dusty street. Two children, he could see, and two older ones.
Someone stepped back cautiously.
"You Oniwabanshu aren't supposed to hurt people!"
Silence.
"You aren't supposed to steal lunch from babies."
A head looked up from the dust, and the owner raised a hand in protest.
"We're not babies."
The speaker ignored the head, and turned her attention back to the one who had stolen lunch. She took another step forward.
"Give it, if you know what's good for you."
A pause.
"No."
"Why not? You're fat enough. These kids need their food more than you do."
"Keep out of this," he growled.
"Why should I?" there was a hint of mockery in her voice.
"Because," the bully's voice was rising, "If you don't, there will be consequences."
Misao didn't reply for a while, looking from Komachi to Taro to Mamoru. She seemed to be thinking. After a few moments, the ninja girl spoke, addressing the teenager.
"…you're looking for a fight, aren't you?"
.0o0.
Soujiro knew they were there. He always knew. The men were not exactly as quiet as mice, especially since most of them were very, very tipsy, to put it mildly. Nevertheless, the young man continued walking with his usual gait, without the smile on his face. It was a bit odd for the former Tenken, but today, he just didn't feel like grinning like a plastic doll.
A cart selling custom-made keys rattled by him, with the merchandise clinking against each other, making a sound similar to that of windchimes.
Where am I going? He wondered for a while. There was nothing that he had to accomplish in this city, and certainly, no one important to visit. Only Okina and the Oniwabanshu were here.
Grroannn…
Soujiro put his hand on his stomach absently.
Lunch. I'm here to get lunch. And as an afterthought, he added, at the Aoiya.
.0o0.
Sho did not move from where he was. The middle-aged man didn't enjoy street fights, but he felt it in his bones that something important was going to take place, and that maybe, maybe he would find what he was looking for soon enough.
The servant held his breath, and waited.
.0o0.
The wanderer could see the street of restaurants, already. The path was not that crowded, considering that it was already a bit past lunchtime.
Thud
Thud
Buuuurrp.
He pretended not to notice the group of sake-drinking hooligans. Soujiro did not want to cause any trouble. At least, not in this place. A thought at the back of his head screamed, telling him that something troublesome was going to happen, involving him and those men, if Soujiro didn't do something about them anytime soon.
And being the smart, quick-witted, and extremely exasperating person he was, the young man completely ignored that thought.
.0o0.
Taro had a very sensitive nose. He sniffed the air, detecting a very unpleasant, very distinct odor. It wasn't that far away, and was approaching the general area around him at a regular rate.
The bully sniffed again, and registered the smell as beer, sweat, and several men who hadn't taken a bath for a few days. He jerked his head up in alarm. Taro knew who they were, and knew that if they were coming, he was going to be in huge trouble.
The men who called themselves the handsomest in Kyoto; the ones that always hung out at the sake shop when they weren't doing anything else. And the worst of them all was their leader…a lazy, thin, and unbelievably stubborn man who spent what little he earned on drinks and who paid no heed to the family needs.
The leader, who also happened to be Taro's dear older brother.
.0o0.
Takeshi's room was large, with a high ceiling, big windows that looked out to his splendid garden, and ornate tapestries, paintings, and expensive things scattered here and there.
Right now, the zaibatsu heir was pacing around, walking back and forth, for the lack of anything better to do.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Takeshi stopped abruptly when the door opened a little, revealing a face that he hadn't seen in many years. The young man smiled at the person in the door, and gestured for her to come in.
"Lady Akira!" he greeted, bowing graciously to the young woman, who was dressed in an expensive-looking silk kimono, embroidered with koi fish. She smiled at him demurely, and he sensed something wonderfully sinister behind her pale mask.
"How is my dear brother-in-law?" she asked him, taking a seat on a small cushioned chair, near one of the windows.
"The servants told me that you wouldn't be taking in any visitors at the moment, so I opted to go straight to your room instead."
Takeshi let out a short laugh, smiling at Lady Kiyoko Akira, the woman who had married his childhood friend, a man who he considered his brother.
"So, to what do I owe this visit?" he asked.
Kiyoko smirked. "It seems that one of our servants has committed a terrible crime." She leaned back into the chair, stroking its armrest lazily. "You know the one that Yoji trusted the most? The old, peculiar man who always went to the forest for lunch?"
Takeshi nodded, losing interest in the topic. "Yes. Kanzaki, isn't it. Why?"
"Well…" the young woman grinned, her small teeth flashing in the light. "It turns out that he has taken up Christianity."
The heir straightened up, knowing immediately what Lady Akira had come to him for. He smiled in an evil way, eyes shining brightly.
"And you want me to kill him, right? In front of you?"
Kiyoko nodded. "In the most creative way possible, dear brother." She paused to let out a refined chuckle. "I'm so glad we understand each other."
.0o0.
Hi everyone. :) it's been quite a while. Chapter six has been with me for a few weeks, and was only a few minutes ago that I was able to finish it. Sorry for the late update, school's been driving me mad, and it's only been three weeks. As you might have already noticed, this chapter is long, since I wanted to pick up the pace a little bit in terms of plot movement. I hope no one is getting confused with all the minor characters; you can ignore them if you want to, but a few play a key role in the story.
Okay, this is as far as I go. :) 'Hataori' is the last chapter where Soujiro and Misao don't meet. :D Thank you for all the kind reviews, and as always, advice, comments and whatnot are greatly appreciated. :)