"Dear fellow traveller, under the moon, I saw you standing in the shadows and your eyes were blue. You put your hand out, opened the door, you said, 'Come with me, boy, I want to show you something more.'" –Sea Wolf, "Dear Fellow Traveller"

-o-

The machine was old. A motorized pulley type of mechanism, a handle allowed the user to crank the heavy iron hook up and down. The cable inside was sturdier than anything, but as a whole had seen some use in the War. Yuuka didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it. It was for sale, but most people were of her opinion and passed it by. Eventually she began toying with the idea of melting it down. She was always in need of extra scrap, and the heavy casing would make a good hammerhead.

It was late afternoon when someone decided to buy it.

A day after the memorable fight with the palace bodyguard, everyone except Yuuka, Gorobei and Kikuchiyo had left to ask more samurai around Kogakyo. They were all suffering from a lack of promising subjects. Yuuka was turning the matter over in her head while she mindlessly weighed the old pulley in her hands, rust flaking under her fingers.

"Finally gonna take care of that thing, Yuu?" Masamune knew she had always been tempted to bring the small machine to the gates of hell. "Might as well. It's been takin' up space anyway."

Even as she was heating up the forge, a shadow was cast across the door. "Hey, anyone here?"

"Over here." The old mechanic said. "Welcome."

The new arrival was a young man, probably Yuuka's age, but his appearance was deceiving. His face was upturned; laugh lines smiled at his eyes. Ginger hair was tucked under a winter hat. A teru-teru-bozu hung from the end of his sword, which matched his apparently sunny personality. At best he seemed a few years younger than her.

He noticed Yuuka as quickly as he had Masamune, and bowed. "Hi, good afternoon. What's that?"

The sudden direct attention was unusual and made her a little uncomfortable. She held up the pulley, not believing he actually wanted to look at it, and handed it over. The samurai inspected it, and Yuuka rolled a cigarette while they looked on. Gorobei poked his head in the doorway. Fortunately, Kiku was being distracted by Komanchi. The girl had remained out of common sense.

"Ah, a motorized pulley. Start the crank and it does the lifting for you!" The kid judged, having set it on a creaky metal table. Yuuka dropped back into the jutting wall of machinery, smoke hovering around her head, and let Masamune handle things. "I see how this would come in handy. Looks like it's seen some action, too."

"Yep! It's a relic from the Great War. Wanna take it home? I'll sell it to ya cheap!" The old man was grinning now. "Relic" was stretching it a bit, Yuuka thought.

"I'd love to, but I'm a bit short on cash."

"Huh?"

So it was that the samurai, whose name was Heihachi, volunteered to chop firewood in payment for the pulley. Yuuka was pleased at this turn of events. Chopping wood was hard work, and they were running low. The evening wore on, punctuated by the consistent popping of logs springing apart. Blinding orange sunlight illuminated the west side of the shop, casting long shadows across the porch. Said porch was actually a large wooden platform, as big as the inside of the shop at least, or at least large enough for a dozen people to sit comfortably. Yuuka took trips in and out of the shop collecting armfuls of wood to keep the forge going.

"So, you're a samurai too, huh?" Heihachi wiped his forehead. Inexplicably, he was still wearing his hat. "I don't mean to be rude, but female ronin are pretty rare."

Yuuka shrugged, picking up logs from around the chopping block. After thinking about it, she tried to answer his question by putting one hand at her sword, then to her heart. Patting her chest a couple times to make the point, she continued her gathering.

"Can't you talk?" At her solemn head shake, Heihachi unexpectedly beamed. "Hey, that's all right. I picked up some sign language if you ever wanna chat."

The female samurai smiled lightly and bowed, but returned to the shop. There was work to be done, and she was burning daylight.

-o-

It was twenty-four hours after the night they'd found Heihachi. The others were overjoyed at his arrival, since through coincidence they had also been looking for him. While the samurai planned out where to ask next in the city, the farmers rationed out the remainder of their rice. Masamune was running low on a few gears, which were needed to replace some rotten ones in Heihachi's new pulley. Of course, he sent out the errand-runner.

Yuuka smoked lightly as she walked down the street. Smoking lightly isn't something nonsmokers think about. Heavy smoking is when she is stressed, wringing the paper between her fingers and taking long, anxious drags. Light smoking was just having a few puffs while doing chores for a lazy old man. People who don't smoke can't always tell the difference, but she knew all too well.

The nights in Kogakyo were never as cold as in the country, but still fairly cool. People milled about despite the hour; tourists looking for the red light district, dealers quietly vending their products. The shop she need to get to was down the street still, several blocks from Masamune's smithy. Yuuka stopped a ways from the mechanic to drop her cig and step it out with her heel. That moment was when the sirens started up.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and her hand dropped to her sword. Something was wrong, she knew. Above, royal guards dashed along the tin roofs. By instinct, Yuuka took a wary step back into the shadow of a cloth overhang. Somehow she was too late, because one of the guards made a cry and pointed her out. In seconds brass spikes and painted faces surrounded her.

"You're under arrest for murder, samurai!" One of them shouted, unnecessary in the quiet night. "Come with us to the castle immediately! Your compliance or your life!"

Why do officials shout everything they say? Yuuka almost laughed at the thought of the fat, child-like Ayamaro screeching his royal declarations. Instead, she coldly judged her odds, and determined they were good. It would take a matter of seconds to dispatch the guards and make a break for the shop. But it would be useless to fight. She'd committed plenty of murders so she wasn't sure why only now they were catching on. Ronin weren't exactly respected, but murder was a little too far. So, instead of fighting them off, she slowly raised her hands over her head and went with them peaceably.

Obviously, the dungeons were her destination. The route there was different than the route to the main castle doors—never force the delicate merchant class to look upon criminal scum! The cells were classic and reminded her of those that held geishas, the thick wooden bars and floors too thick to cut through. Her only objection came when they took her sword from her. Her hand lashed out to grab hold of it again, but the guard yanked it back and shoved her into the cell.

When they left, Yuuka stretched and rubbed her eyes. Idiots. They hadn't searched her. From her obi she pulled her polished kaiken. Being careful not to make noise, she slid her arm through one of the square holes in the bars to lever the wooden beam up with the dagger. There was a reason she let herself get caught.

The bar came up and she eased herself out of the cell, silently shutting it behind her. Two guards stood at the door with their backs to her. Still using her dagger, she hit one so hard that she could feel the cervical vertebrae crunch under the polished wood. The next was bleeding from the throat before he could call for reinforcements. Yuuka snatched up her sword from the weapons rack and began her sneaking trek through the castle.

She hadn't given it enough credit. The place was wickedly complicated, a maze in its own right. At least all the ornamental rugs kept her steps muffled. Once, she had to quickly jump back into an alcove in order to avoid a patrol of painted royal guards, running full speed through the delicate halls. Stealth always gave her an adrenaline rush that could only be rivaled by open battle. All her senses were on high alert; her heart was hammering and her fingertips were cold and itching for a smoke. She'd taken off her sandals so as to silence the clacking wood. When she reached a corner, she always pressed her back to the wall and turned her head around just enough for one eye to scan the area for guards.

The first places she looked for were offices. Surely there was information on the Nobuseri that could be useful. One room was a gold mine, filled with very official documents about all the different Nobuseri at the disposal of the Magistrate. The information was disturbing. There were a lot more than she had thought, and if they all came to Kanna village in force, she doubted a handful of ronin could defeat them.

After running all the offices through a fine sieve of stealth, she took to eavesdropping. All her time in the castle had left the time at the early morning. There weren't many people out yet; still, sometimes those moronic guards would chat to themselves while eating their early breakfasts. Apparently, an envoy had been killed and Ayamaro had demanded that every samurai in Kogakyo be arrested. It didn't seem like anyone involved was very pleased about it.

That explains things. So her arrest wasn't random coincidence after all. That was reassuring. However, that meant that the samurai hunt for the farmers had come to an end. Yuuka had to get back and warn them before all the ronin at the workshop got rounded up; somehow, she doubted that they would be stupid enough to get caught. Kikuchiyo might, though.

After navigating her way through most of the castle by memory alone, she decided that she had better stop while she was ahead and get back before daybreak. There were only a few turns left until the back exit was in view. Putting one shoulder to the cool marble wall, she turned her head just barely around the corner, swallowed, felt a vein in her throat jump and touch steel.

Yuuka froze. The edge of the sword stung her skin, leaving a cut. Her hand drifted to her own blade, but a low voice stopped her cold. "Don't try."

She turned her head, as cautiously as possible, even though it widened the cut in her neck. She'd been caught by that bodyguard, the one who had dueled Kambei, and he glared at her. Up close, Yuuka could get a better look at him. His blond hair stuck out at angles that defied gravity, but it didn't look styled. The red coat he wore had few straps, not much to grab or rip in a fight, and hung on his narrow frame. He had a name, what was it? Something with a K? No time to remember. She had to make the first move.

The kaiken was the obvious first choice, which she drew in a flash to try and jab him in the side hilt-first. Of course it was deflected, but now she was free to move and draw her katana. The bodyguard said nothing, moved as though he too were mute. His eyes were cold, but not emotionless. Just shielded.

Yuuka only barely managed to bring her sword up in time to block a cut so fast she only felt its impact. Jarring as it was, it brought her senses to a refined point. Both his incoming swords were stopped when she swung her blade and wood sheathe in unison. The effort to keep the steel from slicing an X into her was unbelievable. Yuuka was strong by any standard, but the bodyguard was stronger by half.

At the last second she cracked her head forward, successfully smashing his narrow nose on her forehead. The dual swords swung in like a guillotine with its rope cut, like gravity was working on the blades times two, and Yuuka ducked forward. At her back, she felt the incoming steel cut so close that the tie on her hair was sliced off along with a few small locks.

The bodyguard made a kick at her but she rolled back and was back on her feet. There was no way in hell she could beat him. He barely seemed winded; he could have been drinking tea ten seconds ago instead of dueling to the death. A sting of pain pinched the back of her shoulder. It wasn't an injury. There was a screwy bolt in her fake arm, where metal met flesh, and it liked to come loose and twist up nerve endings around the area. The sting morphed into an annoying spike, and she put her hand back to try and wiggle it.

A shrill whistle screamed through the echoing castle halls—the bodies had finally been discovered. The pair glanced away in unison, to the source, and back to each other. Yuuka licked her lips nervously, raised a finger to her lips and made one of the few sounds she still could. "Shh."

He only watched her with that unchanging glower, lifting one sleeve of his red jacket to smear scarlet across his face from his bleeding nose.

Yuuka bowed in farewell, praying that he didn't give her away to the guards. Once she was sure he wasn't going to cut her in half, she took a few steps backward, then a few more, faster. After she was out of range, she took off. When she hit the early morning air, it was as fresh as water. She slipped back into her sandals and ran until she hit crowds. There she slowed to a walk, paranoid that the bodyguard would tail her. To lose him, she took the alleys of the alleys on her way back to the workshop, the path she only took when she was carrying hot items.

She busted into the workshop and shut the door behind her. With a sigh of relief, Yuuka stretched out her legs and sat on the floor.

"Oh, Yuuka-dono." Kirara was the first to notice her arrival. "Are you okay?"

Masamune shuffled over. "You look like you just ran a mile. Come on, sit down. What happened?"

Yuuka shook her head and gratefully pulled out a cigarette, reaching out to light it in the orange coals of the forge. The drag she took from it was long. It was heavy smoking. Eventually, she tucked it into her mouth to fingerspell a few words out since she couldn't remember the signs for them. Samurai hunt. Envoy killed. She put her wrists together to show cuffs and jerked a thumb back at the door. Broke out.

"Hm." Masamune rubbed the curly soul patch on his chin. "Well, if that means what I think it does, Kambei and those other two best get back here quick."

"What did she say?" Kirara asked insistently, leaning forward.

"It looks like samurai are getting' hunted down. Yuuka just busted out. Caught last night, I assume?" A nod. "Yeah, thought so."

"Do you think they'll be safe out there?"

"You worry too much, sis!" Little Komanchi chimed in, raised a pudgy hand up to her priestess sister. Yuuka held the cig up and away while the kid was nearby. "They're great samurai, right? So they'll be just fine!"

Kirara smiled and nodded. "You're right. Let's wait for them to come back."

"Yeah, but then you guys gotta get outta the city." Masamune sourly plucked Yuuka's cigarette away and tossed it in the forge. "Those guards'll be lookin' for you."

"I can't leave until I've found seven samurai to defend Kanna village!" The priestess protested. "Oh…now what do we do?"

"We wait for them to come back." The mechanic gestured for Yuuka to come closer when she pointed out her bad screw, and picked through his array of wrenches while the samurai shrugged off her loose coat. "It ain't like we can just go lookin' for them out there."

Yuuka hissed in through her teeth and tugged her shoulder forward. Masamune slapped her arm. "Whining won't get you fixed, girl." He said. "Now stay still."

The afternoon passed in a smoggy haze while they waited for the others. Having gone a little stir-crazy inside the workshop, Yuuka climbed out and sat on the roof to smoke where Masamune couldn't catch her. A new scar was on her neck, a small but deep cut. Kogakyo stretched out before her, a hideous, polluting zit on the face of the earth. The encounter with the bodyguard still replayed in her head. She couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been going easy on her: she'd seen his duel with Kambei. Why he didn't just cut her throat when she was off her guard? What was a talented samurai doing serving scum like the Magistrate? Did he ever actually tail her back to the workshop? If not, why let her go? But these were things that she would probably never get answered, and so they buzzed around in her head like curious flies. Whatever the answers, that man wasn't what he seemed.

Yuuka coughed for a while. Smoking was so vile; she was honestly confused as to why she kept up the habit. Below, she watched the ronin who had been in town meet up with Kirara and Komanchi.

Kikuchiyo came thundering up to the shop with a sizable gang of thuggish samurai in tow. Some words were exchanged, and the gang attacked Kambei, who somehow managed to fight them all off in a whirlwind of blades and a matter of seconds. His talent continued to stun her. He was likely only a decade her senior give or take, but his skills were that of a master.

When they retreated into the blacksmith, Yuuka ground out her cig and climbed down to join them. Bells were ringing out in the city. It was time to run.

-o-

-This was a really wordy chapter. Do you guys (like the 3 of you who read this) want more narration of her thought process? I'm still getting used to writing someone who can't mutter to themselves. The only problem is that I want her to seem really, truly unable to talk and using italic thoughts would be cheating? So I dunno. Whatewer.

-Finally a legit encounter with Kyuzo, boom goes the dynamite. Gyogo is gonna be such a douche if Kyuzo comes back from every fight with something else bleeding though omg

-Review! I love you guys so much pls make me happs too