Hello everyone,
I hope you are well and ready to read on this story I keep close to my heart to this day. This story is not my life's work, but it is a part of my life which I envisioned sharing with the world when I embarked on my literary journey.
Thank you everyone who continued reading all these years and supported me with their kind words- you know who you are!
Special thanks to Magatsulza for your recent review and inspiration.
It's an understatement how LONG it takes for me to update. Yes, I am aware and sadly can only offer half an apology because if life doesn't get in the way, then I do. Nothing will be released until it's meticulously imagined, written and edited to my standard. I only publish when the chapter truly brings contentment and satisfaction to me not only as a writer but reader as well.
And this chapter, I am so happy to say is one of the most fun to read and write!
Ran and Mitsunari withstood the test of time; they can face anything. Together.
xoxo
Gravism
Cultural notes:
Sake: Japanese rice wine
Yamero: Informal (rude/impolite) way to say STOP. I'd never use this in a speech w/ boss or clients because it's so (C)RUDE!
Dame desu: This phrase has many meanings and mostly NEGATIVE connotations such as No, not ok, stop, impossible. It's used here as "don't do that".
The town was lively with a boisterous hum of activity and bustling with explosive colors.
"Young Lady, come take a look!"
Ever since war broke out, festivals were few and far in her town.
"Fine jewelry for sale!"
She hadn't seen so many lights at night, ever!
"Catch your goldfish!"
Children weave themselves in and out of crowds with makeshift lanterns.
"You are quite spirited after sustaining a debilitating injury, " Mitsunari says under his breath with crossed arms.
"It was just a sprain, I am fine," she grins with eyes ablaze.
"Don't miss a chance to buy fresh mochi!"
Her eyes grow, turning to him. "Mitsunari-dono, can we please buy mochi? My mother would make it for me every-"
"I refuse," he says flatly, walking ahead, "We need to head back. It's late-"
Mitsunari whirls around to find empty space amidst a sea of strangers.
"Ran…"
His blood runs cold, sprinting down the busy streets. Usually his sharp eyes can pick the colorful kimono she wears but tonight the entire town and its people were painted like a rainbow. He curses silently as beads of sweat roll down his temple.
Where could she be? Where would she go?
Finding no luck on the streets he searches every establishment.
Eyes wild with fire, he enters every shop.
"Oh! You have returned so soon, Samurai-dono! Where is your wife?" The blithe shop owner coos, walking over to greet him.
He scans the premises, oblivious to her erroneous remarks. "Where is-"
"Well, what did you think? Didn't your lovely wife look splendid in her new kimono? We may be operating in a small town, but our craftsmanship can rival the Capital's!"
With patience as thin as ice he tries again. "Have you-"
"Goodness, your wife is already a rare beauty but coupled with our artistic services, I must say she becomes divine!"
An iron grip on his sword. Unbelievable. Any soldier would be cut down posthaste had he needed to ever repeat himself. "Where is-"
"If only you saw how stunned the men were when she walked out! They stopped and some even dropped -"
"Enough," he growls, shooting her a steel, piercing glare. The shop owner fell silent, hanging her head. He sighs nasally, knowing well the reprimand of a certain young woman for his abrasive behavior. "She is not my wife. Where is she?"
Her head shoots up. "Eh? But she looks at you like -"
The young General gives her a deadpan expression.
The older woman wrings her hands. "Ah that is to say, she smiles at you-"
His brows knit in inquiry with a turn of his head. What nonsense was this woman spouting?. Are all female civilians like this?
"She is not my wife," he repeats, thinking in a similar instance someone should now have died by his sword. "Where is she?"
"Ah, your lover!" A light illuminating her eyes ."I saw her at the Inn."
Bitter. That's how Ran would describe the liquid that rushes down her throat.
"Haha, listen Lady, that's not quite nearly enough to make amends! Drink another!"
She picks up another bottle, oblivious to the blossoming glow on her face and placing the rim on her lips with eyes closed.
Burning. The second word to describe this horrid liquid. What would compel anyone to drink this?
A sudden iron grip on the bottle and she's met with a livid, silver-haired general.
"That's enough," he says with grim finality, casting the five men before her with a pointed glare before tossing the ceramic container aside. "Are you ruffians responsible for this?"
The tallest man with a well-built frame stands, crossing his arms. "She did it to herself. Knocked into our table, ruined our meal."
A slender man chimes in with a wicked grin, "we had to punish her, haha."
"Oi, she's not done drinking!" Chuckles their portly, bearded friend. "And if you are here to fetch her, she can't leave until she's done!"
"The woman is coming with me." Mitsunari shoots the porcine man a glare. "No one in heaven or hell dares to bar my way. Shall you scoundrels be the first?"
"Dame desu!" Ran's high-pitched protest cuts through the thick tension; her balance lost and backpedaling into the arms of dangerous men.
"Ran!" His eyes like those of a wild, mad dog as two men seize her.
"Don't YOU dare kill anyone!" She shrieks through a crimson inebriated mask.
"Oi, a lover's quarrel? How interesting!"
"A man of blunt words, only to be silenced by a pretty little lady, haha!" The scrawny man cackles.
"...Or I won't forgive you," she mutters from behind the wall of men with a misdirected finger at him.
"Hn, you speak as if I care for forgiveness," Mitsunari sneers, turning to the men with glares. His grip on the O-dachi tightens. "Leave if you wish to live, filthy swine."
"Ho? Fine sword you have there! I bet it will fetch a lot of gold," the corpulent man smiles.
"A lot more than this woman. Though she is very easy on the eyes," the scrawny man chuckled darkly.
"You're always so angry!" Ran blurts out, face red as tomato, oblivious to the iron grip on her by complete strangers. "I don't like it."
A guffaw erupts from the tallest man. "You seem to have fallen out of her favor."
"Leave and I will let you live," comes the Minister of Misfortune's edict, knuckles white from the death grip on his sword.
"Ha! Leave your sword and we will release her, if not..." the tallest ruffian counters, gesturing to his comrades.
"...if not what?" Ran hiccups, unaware of the scrawny man reaching for her face.
"Yamero!" Mitsunari barks, arm shooting out. "Lay so much as a finger on her and I promise you will lose the arm!"
A smirk plays on their faces. "Though she will fetch a high price, hand over your sword, soldier, and we will release her. We've no need for a woman if we have gold. We are men of our words."
Mitsunari grimaces, eyeing the steel sword in his hand.
Hanbei-dono, I beg your forgiveness relinquishing a samurai's soul, but I cannot allow harm to once again befall the one who saved my life. You have taught me to honor the Code of Bushido and I will adhere to its tenets at the cost of my life and soul.
"Or we could just have a nice time-"
Like a strike of lightning, the slender silver of steel launches towards the tall burly man. He fumbles with its weight; heavier than he had imagined.
Mitsunari sneers. "It carries deceased souls by the thousands. Take care it doesn't come for yours."
"Rest assured it won't as we will be exchanging it soon," the shortest of them smirks.
Their leader gestures again and his subordinates shove the young woman into the streets.
A soft whisper of her name as Mitsunnari looks over the men to glimpse her complaining and staggering down open streets.
He repeats her name, louder this time and moves out, but the men intercept him.
"Wait, We didn't mention you can leave!" They crack knuckles, striding towards the white-haired general.
Cold steel focuses on the three men.
"Such fearsome words earlier for a weak swordsman who lost his sword, haha!"
Mitsunari sighs nasally.
Hanbei-dono, I beseech you to grant me the swift removal of obstacles to be by her side.
"Shameless curs, dare to stand in my will know weakness. Come!"
Ran didn't make it far before Mitsunari sprinted over to find her rounding a corner on the edge of town.
He whirls her around by the shoulder, attempting to steady her and catch his breath.
She meets his firm inquiry with a garbled reply. "I am heading back, -hic- it's getting dark."
His curt reply that this isn't the way with a guiding hand on her arm.
"No," the young woman pulls away, stumbling, "I can -hic- walk."
He sighs nasally. Fine.
"Follow me, we will head back now," he rounds another corner, at a slow pace beside her.
"Where are we going?" She quips, struggling to place one foot in front of the other.
Just how MUCH did she drink?
He gives her an incredulous look but the young woman staggers obliviously.
WHAT did she drink?
His thoughts are scattered by an incoming, boisterous group of men reeking of opium and sake.
He grimaces and reflexively takes her hand, pulling the young woman behind him as the staggering cacophonous mob curses and carouses their way through.
A sigh escapes him, but not one of the usual annoyed nature, and they continue onward.
"Ah, Mitsunari," she blurts out, forgetting the honorific that has him stopping mid-step, "you're -hic- still holding my hand."
Like hellfire, he releases her, eyes cast away. "Those were dangerous men," his muted remark, "therefore-"
She stumbles before him with a bright but utterly drunk smile. "Oh, did you do this -hic- so you could hold my hand?"
He scoffs, turning away. "What a ridiculous thing to say, as if -"
"Ah, No you didn't, I understand. You did it," she hiccups, fumbling his hand into hers, "so that I could hold yours."
Again that bright smile that could turn the dark night into midday. He briefly wonders how this woman, despite a commoner life rife with difficulties, could be suffused with such light in an otherwise dim, dreary world.
Hanbei-dono, this world….
She weaves her fingers into his. How she manages when walking presents an obstacle is a phenomenon second only to his allowing her to manipulate his hand.
….is bleak, blunt, and blighted with impending decay.
"What a preposterous, nonsensical thing to say."
"You are preposterous," she bites back, blowing an uncharacteristic raspberry.
That is what I held to be true...
He stares at her for a moment with an unreadable expression before deferring a reply to lead them to the stables.
"What?" She staggers besides him, hand scrunching against his to improve her balance.
"Nothing," he mutters, curling his fingers around hers in the quiet cloak of night.
That is, until I met her.
Author's note:
That man is steel on the outside and squish on the inside! Please leave a review if you think so!