The Facing Side of the Coin
by
Kochan

Chapter 8: The Road Home: Mouse in the Harvest

Hayate had forced himself through a day and night of knee deep snow, frosted trees and icy ground before allowing himself a full rest stop. Locations had been marked on the coded notes where stashes of equipment were buried. He had shifted two feet of snow and dirt to expose the root of a dying conifer and had found the sack buried in a bed of dry leaves and moss.

Three hours later, He had left less sleep deprived with a mini water flask, some preserved rice balls, three flares and several tools including a pen torch. The notes had warned of an increase in the intensity and number of patrols and he made sure to cover the few tracks he left on closing the last ten kilometers.

Early evening had found mild fatigue seeping through to his lower limbs. His sister was used to travelling long distances at mid-pace but he had asked more of Kasumi's body than was fair. Slight nausea and dull pains had also settled in his abdomen since his awakening and He had wondered if the Carbon Dioxide poisoning had been worse than first thought.

The last streaks of sunshine had fled to the horizon, surrendering the night sky to the darkened clouds and moon upon his reaching the river. The Shinobi forced himself in to bathe, icy water sharpening his senses like a master swordsman did his blade before a battle. It also dampened any thought of arousal whilst being nude in this relative form of feminine perfection and Hayate was glad for that. However, the cramping behind his navel worsened with the pain even radiating to his lower back and thighs at times.

Stretching overhead in the distance were the two rope bridges spanning the sides of the valley, the links between his village and the rest of the world. He recognized the slow shuffle of the silhouette atop the first. The sentry, Montaro, was one of a pair of brothers who were always on bridge duty together. His twin, Kentaro, and he were only village watchmen, but more than diligent at their jobs. Their presence made crossing either of the bridges without detection impossible.

He had to enter unseen and undiscovered into his own village, something he had trained countless men to prevent from ever happening.

He needed the hidden senses of the Shinobi.

Hayate crouched behind a series of rocks and drew Kasumi's Tanto on facing the moon. It slipped from behind its cover of dark clouds and he closed his eyes to begin. The Shinobi cut the air with alternating vertical and horizontal strokes of the blade, whispering the Mantra in his sister's voice...

...Ah! Ki! Sa, Ta, Ka, Ha, Wa, Ya, E...!

With the passing of each word, the Shinobi felt his soul gather strength from the trees, the stream, even the rocks but most of all, from the moon's rays lavished upon his lithe, feminine form. The blade felt alive in his grasp as though thirsting for the blood of the closest living thing...

...and he fed it, carving the one word into his palm to complete the spell. Oni...Demon, to aid his passage through places fraught with peril, danger and even where malevolent beings no longer of the living wandered. Hayate slid the blade back into his sheath.

Tonight, it was he who was the ghost.

The spell made the night seem almost like day. His sister's light and fast body floated with each step, her reflexes seeming to slow time itself. The river bank provided several large rocks, branches and fallen tree logs for cover as he passed under the bridges and stole towards the waterfall. Loose stones and twigs were avoided with ease as though a guardian angel was choosing his steps and guiding his legs.

It didn't take Hayate long to reach the falls. Most of its life essence was held in icy stasis high above and it would be no more than a trickle until the Spring. The Shinobi had ascended the path behind the falls dozens of times since childhood but this time, he had to do it over cold, wet rocks glazed with ice in the dark.

He climbed blind, with only his memory to guide him and a set of Tekko-Kagi metal claws to ensure his holds. Even his enhanced sight was more harm than good with blackened rock indiscernible from dark fragile ice. He used the most of his sister's superior agility as he shifted from hold to hold, though his shorter height and limb length proved to be a disadvantage. At times he found himself stretching for rocks just beyond his reach, prompting small leaps and grabs of faith with numb fingers.

He was almost seventy meters up and just under the curved lip of the cliff after a solid hour. All had gone well until he tested for a new hold with one hand...and the other gave out beneath the metal claw. His breath caught in his throat as he found himself plummeting backwards into the pit with only sharp, jagged rocks below to break his fall.

Nausea worsened to overcome shock as his stomach contracted in even more pain. Hayate thought he had lost consciousness as his surroundings flashed out in an involuntary teleport shift. It hurled him back into the world just above the lip of the falls. Sharp ice and rocks blunted the claws and shredded his fingers, palms and forearms as he caught the edge. Two of his fingernails had almost been torn out and he bit back a pained cry on struggling to keep from slipping off.

Like cats, the Mugen Tenshin Shinobi had been trained to land falls over hundreds of meters without harm. But a drop for which one was unprepared with a next to invisible bottom proved as threatening to them as it was to the average person. Had he survived the crippling fall, they would have found his sister's broken body and he would have been good as dead.

The pounding of his heart was deafening as Hayate dragged himself over the top. He caught his breath and pondered as he stowed the claws in his uniform. Shifting into a blind area at a cliff edge in the dark was suicide, something that few would ever dare attempt even considering the circumstances. He knew of only one person that could ever manage it. Looking back down over the cliff edge confirmed his thoughts yet confused him. Pink blossom petals rather than darkened feathers were scattered on the wind. He didn't know how the shift had initiated, but the glow of Kentaro's lantern approaching in the distance prompted him to move on.

The two men stopped on the path to the village were more focused on their conversation than their patrol pattern. Hayate took the opportunity to move through the frosted trees some distance from the path, memory highlighting traps and tripwires, night sight avoiding shrubs and noisier foliage. The trees ended a short distance from where the steps through the North village wall began. He didn't have long to wait before the clouds slid their wispy fingers over the moon, giving him the darkness he needed.

The Shinobi sprinted up the wall and leapt across to the side of the steps. He hung upon the snow crusted edge in silence, prefering the slow numbing ache to the painful sting from his wounds. The cramping in his belly worsened as the intense cold of the stone sucked his body heat away. Two meters away at the top of the steps was yet another village guard. There was no mistaking the phlegm rasped cough punctuating the man's wheeze.

Toru. Cancer.

The man belched aloud and underwent another coughing fit before continuing his patrol along the perimeter. Hayate eased up in silence and crept the last steps to the top. A quick scan found the area clear and he sprinted uphill through Toru's footprints for the closest building, flattening himself against the wall.

This was the rice storehouse, holding enough food to last the village more than a year. Being uninhabited, it also served as an excellent place to dress his wounds and wait till the villagers retired for the night. The Shinobi stole up the wooden stairs to the door and the lock unlatched in seconds as the needle like Saku pick did its work. He froze at the sound of scurrying within, eyes narrowing at the thump and soft cry which followed. Footsteps crunching on fresh snow about the corner prompted him to slide the door open and take his chances with whatever was inside.

The storehouse was clean and dry, air sweet from fresh wood and rice grains. Straw bundles containing rice loomed in pyramid format seven to eight high in the darkness. The manager, Hatano, made a special effort to ensure their supply of food remained well preserved. The soft patter of rice on wood pulled his attention and Hayate peeked about the corner.

He found a child by a pile of straw bags on a new loading platform and recognized the soft whimpering. Her frantic hands were patting at the stream of rice gushing out of one bag. Several had already fallen off onto the ground. No time to waste; Hayate sprinted up to the girl, hand clamping over her mouth to stifle the scream as she whipped about.

The scrawny face, wide eyes and straggly hair confirmed his guess. It was the tailor's eight year old daughter. "Shizuka-Chan?" He whispered in his sister's voice on peeling his mask away.

"Kasumi-sama!" Shizuka surprised him with an embrace, muffling a sob of relief against his shoulder. Despite her parents being tailors, her dark clothes were torn in places and she smelt as though she hadn't washed in a week. "Please! Please don't tell them I'm here!"

The child had chosen a poor refuge; No one but the village clerks, storemen and occasional watchmen were permitted past the entrance. Any others found unsupervised within were deemed to be thieves and both they and their family subject to severe punishment.

The pull at the door caught Hayate's attention and was followed by the jingle of keys. He muffled Shizuka's panicked squeal and held her close on fomulating a plan. "Shizuka-Chan? Make more holes in the bags on this side. Quickly and quietly ne?" he whispered on patting the crop bags beside the ruptured one.

Shizuka nodded several times, producing an old, rusted Kunai spade he presumed she had brought for that very purpose. He squeezed his lithe, female form under the opposite side of the wooden platform, slashing the thick ropes holding it together to a fraction of their thickness with his sister's Tanto. The platform creaked from stress with the last cut but held...for now. He squirmed out, nodding to Shizuka at several new streams of rice. The key rattled into its lock on the other side of the door and he bit his lip, kneeling to hoist the child up on his back. As fast and as silent as he was able, Hayate darted up over the pile of bags in the next corner. He chose a darkened section of the cross beam roof to settle in just as the latch clicked and door slid open.

The darkness was eased back from the entrance by moonlight then forced away by the intimidating glow of a lantern as it was swung within. The silhouette and mannerisms of the watchman who poked his head in after were well known to everyone in the village: Yukio, infamous village pervert and gossip. Hayate reached back to squeeze at Shizuka's hip, a silent sign for her to keep extra still and quiet. The watchman had eyes for spying and ears for eavesdropping and the Shinobi didn't doubt his ability to find them with a cafeful search.

Yukio tiptoed in and stammered in his signature high pitched voice, "W-who's there?"

Nothing but the patter of rice grains answered him. His hunched figure crept towards the trickling, lantern held close to ward off the shadows. There was a slight waver in his step; no surprise as Yukio shared a deep love for the drink along with the invasion of others' privacies. He uttered a loud gasp on finding the growing piles of naked rice on the ground and lifted the lantern to find the violated, half empty crop bags still gushing their stores. A frayed rope caught the man's attention as it snapped, the platform sagging to the opposite side from weight imbalance which was getting worse every second.

My god...Run! You fool! Hayate screamed in his mind.

But No! The idiot watchman even eased his head and lantern under the platform to closer inspect the source of the sound. Hayate grit his teeth, preparing to take the man's life upon his conscience as Yukio bumped his head against the underside of the shelf.

Yes, Yukio was a fool. Thank goodness he was more so a coward.

The crescendo of tearing rope ripped him from under the deathtrap and sent his lanky form scrambling for the door with a woman's scream. The Shinobi guessed the man's sense of self-preservation had overcome his curiosity just in time. Hayate smothered Shizuka's cry against the feminine swell of his bosom as three tonnes of wood, straw and rice collapsed to the ground in a tremendous crash of noise and dust, shaking the entire storehouse with the force. The impact was sufficient to dislodge several crop bags from neighbouring piles and send them rolling through all corners of the storehouse.

His eyes widened on seeing the plume of smoke at one side of the collapsed platform. It turned into the orange flare of a naked flame and he almost cried out: Yukio had left his lantern under the platform when it collapsed and the building was on its way on becoming an inferno! The Shinobi had almost leaped down from his hiding place when Yukio rushed back with that same piercing scream. A moment of frantic action akin to a dog digging in a garden of rice and Hayate relaxed as the fire succumbed. He watched as the watchman surveyed the carnage, paced back and forth with repeated whimpers of 'oh god' before running out once more into the night.

This was his chance...

"Shizuka-Chan, time to go." he whispered to the girl. She nodded with a soft 'hai' and he felt her tiny arms tighten about his neck.

He made his way through the roof support beams before lowering them to the floor beside the entrance. The wounds from the rock scrape drew a hiss from his lips but he knew the pain was just superficial. Hayate checked outside before scanning Yukio's long tracks in the snow from earlier. Sprinting within them was easy; the man was a slob and dragged his feet. They reached the far corner of the storehouse just as another lantern flare swung around to the front. Yukio and a shorter, stout man vanished within the entrance and returned after a moment. Hayate eased Shizuka down and placed a finger against her lips. A deep breath and his eyes closed. His sister's hearing was so sensitive and he made the most of it to capture the conversation.

"We do not have vermin, Yukio." The manager, Hatano's voice was gruff with irritance. He was a good man; diligent, polite and he ran a tight barn. Like most of the villagers, Hatano had little trust and sympathy for Yukio but tolerated him.

"Even if there were mice, they could not chew through the crop bags we use." Hatano continued.

The watchman's voice was rising to a whine, "But...but I saw it with my own eyes...Rice gushing like a stream from the bags...and the ropes..."

"Yukio-san." Hatano had silenced him with a clear, firm pronunctiation of his name. "Have you indulged in drink tonight?"

Hayate smiled behind his mask; the man indulged in drink every night.

"Well...what does that..." muttered Yukio.

"Is it possible..." Hatano began, holding up a hand to silence the stuttered protest. "Possible, that in your haste to inspect what you thought was a leaking bag, you knocked what was already a loose platform and brought it down?"

"No! It was ...I mean..." Yukio was no doubt beginning to doubt himself after butting the shelf with his head,

"Possible?" Repeated Hatano. "I looked at the wood and rope on that side and the ends were burnt, you're certain you didn't inspect them 'too' closely with the lantern?"

Yukio's non-sensical stammered response tapered off into silence and Hatano spoke again, "Yukio, there's a saying that I use when I deduce a situation like this. 'When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.'"

More silence and Hayate almost laughed aloud at the watchman's answer, "W-what's a zebra...?"

Hatano slapped a hand at Yukio's shoulder, "All that means is that 'The simplest explanation is often the correct one.'" said the manager. "Now, you built that shelf yourself three days ago. Clean up the mess and rebuild it by midday tomorrow. I'll send Kiyowara to help in the morning."

"But..."

"Midday, or the damaged rice comes out of your share for the month, my friend. Now goodnight." Hatano's footsteps faded out before Yukio groaned like an old man and wept like an old woman.

Hayate breathed again; Shizuka and himself remained undiscovered. Most of the homes were now shrouded in darkness with their occupants having retired for the night. One less sentry on patrol also made his path to Shizuka's home easier. The guards in the watchtowers were able to cover each others' blind spots but their frosted breath in the moonlight told him when they weren't facing in his direction, allowing him to seek sanctuary in the shadows from house to house.

Hayate eased the girl down upon the raised walkway behind the small, twin-roomed, straw tatched hut. He froze at a series of hoarse coughs echoing from the far room and recalled that Shizuka's mother had been ill with Pneumonia for sometime now. Her condition had worsened with the winter as her late husband had been against any form of western based medicine including antibiotics. Even after his passing, she continued to respect his wishes...and at this rate, would soon join him.

He already suspected the answer but had to know for sure, "Shizuka-Chan? What were you doing inside there?" "You know it is forbidden for anyone to enter without permission ne?"

The girl squatted down on the walkway as her smile vanished, "I...we have no rice, Kasumi-sama..." that saddened gaze fluttered to the ground.

Hayate frowned and knelt down beside her. Taking Shizuka's hands to rub and keep warm felt natural of his sister, and now for him to do. "But what happened to your monthly ration?" the soft tinge of concern in his feminine voice made the question far less like an interrogation and he was glad for that.

Shizuka took a deep breath, "Oka-san has not been well and...after Oto-san passed away months ago, we have had nothing but porridge. Oka-san...cannot work much ne."

Hayate felt his belly cramp again with a strange sense of guilt and took a deep breath. For years, he had planned the Mugen Tenshin's political and military direction with his father Shinden. Kasumi and their mother Ayame had overseen the administrative and financial matters as well as the general wellbeing of the clan. His incapacitation at the hands of Raidou had rippled off more change and turmoil within the clan in a series of months than since its formation four hundred years ago. Without Kasumi, Ayame now had to see to the clans needs on her own. Personal visits to each of the families were no longer possible.

"Oka-san has had to lie in bed for sometime now." continued Shizuka. "She doesn't know...the rice pot has been empty for a week."

"You didn't tell...anyone?" whispered Hayate.

"No!" squealed the girl before clamping her own hand over her mouth. She whined in a desperate voice. "Please don't tell them! They...they will take me from Oka-san ne?"

It was true. A villager who was unable to work and care for themselves or their own risked having their young usurped to swell the thin ranks of the Hajin Mon Faction. Several times his mother and sister had saved a child or orphan from just such a fate by keeping silent about a family's predicament, ailment and even death. Once care of the child was passed to another family, the Hajin Mon could do nothing to claim it. Otherwise, the child faced a dark path from which there was no return. Genra, the leader of the Hajin Mon had expressed much opposition to this but had never been able prove anything more than sheer coincidence.

Hayate took Shizuka into an embrace once more, "I will have someone come for you, Shizuka-Chan. Tell no one you saw me tonight, not even your mother. And don't go into the storehouse by yourself again ne?" he slipped two of his rice balls into her hands. "Here. Omiyage for your mother and you." he whispered.

The rice balls were received with a gasp and Shizuka squeezed him hard, "Kasumi-sama! I cannot accept this!" she whispered then blinked, retrieving the old rusted Kunai to press into his hands. "Um, Oseibo...and Hai, I promise."

Hayate managed a soft laugh at this, he had offered his 'Omiyage' as a gift brought home from after a long trip. Shizuka had returned the only thing she had in her possesion to make it 'Oseibo', an occasion where gifts were exchanged during the last month of the year.

He bowed his head and whispered his thanks and the girl mirrored his actions. She flashed a bright smile before whispering in a quiet tone, "Kasumi-sama? We will see each other again ne?"

That was a promise he knew Kasumi would have a hard time keeping, but he couldn't say 'no'. "One day, Shizuka." he whispered before laying a kiss at her forehead and easing back from her. "One day..."

He waved on stealing his way towards the village well where the underground passages were rumoured to lead. His fingers stroked the silver pendant about his neck as he pondered again. Their people needed Kasumi back in so many ways, yet they as a clan were seeking to bring her life to an end.

This was the Shinobi code: Pride before Prudence.

Like so many other things in his world now, it didn't make sense at all...