December 1884, in Yokohama, at one of many Minakata Mansions across Japan...
Kinta Minakata rifled through the papers of his late grandfather from his mother's side, Toshiro Minakata, in search for... the "Black Book".
Or perhaps the "Black Tome" or "Black Library" would be more accurate.
Instead, all he got were yellowing letters of correspondence, receipts, bills, IOUs, summons, legal documentation, contracts, and paperwork regarding business acquisitions all the way back to before the Bakumatsu.
Many of them were outdated and invalid, since the actual important documents were in storage in another area.
Another dead end.
Regardless, he dutifully collected and sorted out every last scrap of paper he could find, hoping against hope that the paper trail would lead to evidence that the Minakata Family was part of the supposed Seiryu Clan.
His Seiryu Clan, apparently. His birthright.
Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to the revelation that Shogo Amakusa (formerly Shiro Amakusa the Second) had made his move on the Sixth Anniversary of the little-known Modern Shimabara War of 1878, attempting to finish off the one man that stood against his growing rebellion.
Kinta's very own uncle, Tetsuo Akahori. The youngest brother of his father, Azuma Minakata (nee Akahori).
"..."
Sure, Shogo was able to execute one of his Kakure Kirishitan followers, Kaio and his minions, before their own betrayal could happen, but that only delayed the inevitable. Another Kaio eventually surfaced and put an end to his "cult" six years ago.
That was also the day Amakusa became a legend. A one-man army who'd eventually become the leader of the Battousaigumi. Only one person could stop him skill-wise.
By instinct, Minakata let his sword fly out of his scabbard upon sensing a presence from behind him, a la the Battousai of Speed's Antennas technique.
Twin kunai blocked the blade, and a silver-haired shinobi with a cloth mask over his mouth revealed himself in an eye blink, appearing out of seemingly nowhere.
Rurouni Yahiko
A Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction Continuation Story by Chester Castañeda
Let's learn more about the history of Shogo Amakusa's Kagemusha, also known as his personal Judas Iscariot.
Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, Viz, Sony Studios, Fuji TV, Studio Gallup, Studio Deen, and ADV. This disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted material that are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.
Chapter 45: The Shadow Warrior
"Have you found anything here related to the Seiryu Clan, Minakata-sama?"
"..."
Kinta relaxed his grip on his blade's handle and let the steel slide off the ninja's own weapons instead of attempting to complete his Full Moon Slash.
This person's disappearing act was even better than Kaede Morinaga's, come to think of it.
"No," Minakata answered before he sheathed his weapon.
"You're rather jumpy today." The masked man (who might've been no more than a teenager) also put his daggers away.
The ninja took a look at the documents and suggested, "It's probably something that's hidden in plain sight. Like a series of letters with secret codes in them or something."
"Is that so, Kaita?" said Minakata.
The shinobi nodded. "Every one of the Four Clans banked on either the Bakufu or the Ishin Shishi to win the Bakumatsu. They each had a dog in that fight, so they're essentially spying on everyone and sharing intel to themselves while preparing to double-cross their own masters depending on which side won in the end."
Kinta nodded in kind before handing the paperwork to his spy from the Sanada Ninja Clan. "Copy everything."
"Yessir," said Kaita, who vanished as soon as he got the scrolls full of paperwork from the drawers of Kinta's late grandfather.
Afterwards, Minakata asked to the seemingly empty room, "Condolences to your late father."
The room... or rather, the unseen Kaita... answered back.
"No need. He died a warrior's death against a legend," said the young ninja before his voice faded into echoes.
A little while later, late at night, on the lower floors of the house while Kinta and his police guards exchanged shifts in keeping an eye on the sleeping Kaneda...
"Alright, now breathe this in," said the diminutive Abelia La Cerca to her patient while they sat on a couch, offering him a hookah or water pipe for him to breathe into.
Minakata took one look at the girlish teenager and the contraption, then asked, "Tobacco?"
Abelia shook her head. "No. It's not shisha (molasses-based tobacco usually used in hookah). It's Indian hemp."
Upon hearing that, Kinta got up from the couch, turned on his heel, and went the other direction.
"Hey! Get back here, Kinta-sama! It should increase your lung capacity when you're in battle. It's even known as an asthma remedy!" she said with the hookah in tow.
Then again, back in the 19th Century, even a dose of opium was considered an asthma remedy. And cocaine was a valid treatment for toothaches.
Not that anyone at the time thought that this was unusual or anything.
Sighing, Minakata gave into the young(?) La Cerca's pleas, grabbed the water pipe, and took a hit.
He somewhat regretted it because as soon as the took the drug, he coughed and dry heaved, smoke pouring from his nostrils.
The room then spun and his already sensitive senses became heightened, his chest feeling like it was about to explode as his breathing intensified.
Oh, it loosened up his breathing, all right. It knocked his socks off to boot. He breathed in and out to calm himself and refused to take any more hits.
"I wanna take a hit from that hookah too, Aberia-chuaaan~!" Sergeant Atsushi Dankichi teased the little girl.
"No! Basta ya! (Stop it!)" she told the officer off in Spanish, pushing him away with her little girl hands. "You're not suffering from asthma, so you don't need to take a hit! And you already drank some sake (rice wine) to boot! You shouldn't combine the two!"
"Awww," the new Sarge of the Yokohama police squad pouted. "Why? Is Minakata-san asthmatic?"
"No se," she said in Spanish, rubbing her chin, before noticing the blank look on Atsushi's face, prompting her to translate what she said as, "Wakaranai (I don't know)," in Japanese. "That is, I'm not sure what Kinta-sama's health problem is."
"Health problem? What are you talking about? He's as fit as a fiddling horse! You saw him in action against the Gaijin (Outsider) Battousai, right?" insisted Sarge. "You're worrying your pretty little head too much, little girl!"
"I'm not a little girl," she said, belying her statement with a stomp on Dankichi's foot and her sticking her tongue out at the police officer.
All she knew was that by the time Kinta overexerted himself in fighting her brother, Cain Merrick, he was coughing blood. Even when poisoned with neurotoxin, this was an unusual symptom.
As for the rest of the Kanagawa officers on patrol inside the Minakata Mansion, they were advised not to drink too heavily in the night so that they'd be alert in case an attack happened.
The coppers ended up dead quiet around the swordsman after the awkward exchange earlier concerning their former captain and their comrades dying on the line of duty, protecting Kinta's uncle from his father's side, Tetsuo Akahori.
It was just as well. Even in normal circumstances, the iaijutsu master didn't know the correct thing to say.
On the bright side, that Indian hemp hit the spot and made him remember the good times he had training with the Sakaguchis in Musou Madden Ryu.
Or the time when he discovered what kintsukiroi (gold repair) meant. Maybe another hit from that hookah wouldn't hurt.
Speaking of precious metals, the officers and Kinta himself perked up after hearing the unmistakable clinking sound of a coin being flipped in the air and then caught. Over and over.
It was the pinging noise of a thumbnail making contact on the metal surface of a yen coin. A one-yen gold coin, to be more specific.
Followed by singing. Drunken singing. Terrible tone-deaf singing by someone who shouldn't sing. Like the dying caws of a warbling, drowning crow.
The tough guy of the police group who was assigned to guard the gates... the chain-smoking Yukio Sugiura... yelled, "HEY! Stop that racket!" while knocking hard on the doors leading outside the manor.
"Watch out, Sugiura-kun. It might be a trap or a distraction from the assassins who are out to murder the Minakatas," warned Captain Yusuke Nishimura, the new captain of the Yokohama Squad who replaced the late Ex-Captain Kuniumi Yamada, to his subordinate.
"SHADDAP!" screamed back the man on the other side of the gate. "I came here fer the booze! Hey, Kagemusha (Shadow Warrior)! I know you're in there! Be a pal and gimme something to drink!"
Kinta's eyes went wide. He recognized that voice.
"Itsh me! Itsh Kojima Sho! Open da gatesh, itsh freezing out here!"
With due caution, Kinta and three police officers (Captain Yusuke Nishimura, Officer Yukio Sugiura, and Lieutenant Satoru Sakaguchi) met with the drunken lout of a man who was making that racket.
The four other officers... Sergeant Atsushi Dankichi, Officer Kazuki Matsura, and Officer Shigeru Michishige... remained on guard back in the mansion along with Abelia.
They stood before a disheveled man with a five-o'clock shadow on his jaw, pompadour hair, and a kimono as "loud" as he was, filled with ornate blossoms that looked like fireworks at night. On one arm of his was a cask of sake and on the other arm was a long stick the length of a drying pole.
Sho Kojima rocked and weaved like three sheets to the wind, accompanied by three other people... perhaps his drinking buddies... who looked scarred and missing several fingers.
Maybe they were yakuza instead (since one of the initiation rites of yakuza was to cut away fingers and thumbs)?
"Why are you here, Sho?" asked Minakata, who rubbed his temples and resisted the mild (yet significant) effects of Indian hemp in his system.
"KAGEMUSHA! It's been a while, hasn't it?" Sho grinned like an idiot, his eyes bloodshot. "I was sent by him to keep an eye on you. I also heard there's booze here. Come on. Be a pal."
Minakata turned away and mumbled, "This is none of his business."
Officer Yukio then blew cigarette smoke up the boisterous Kojima's face, making him cough and shout, "What's the big idea, shorty!?"
"You remind me of a certain fat, drunkard officer I met back in Shinshushin," snarled Sugiura. "Go be a dreg of society somewhere else, ya bum. We have official police business here."
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Sakaguchi narrowed his eyes at one of the companions of Sho. There was something familiar about him.
Captain Yusuke shook his head and said, "Break it up, you two. I don't really care if you're Minakata-san's friend or whoever, but Sugiura-kun's right. You have no business here. Go mosey along somewhere else."
"You heard the captain! Out you go!" said Sugiura, who pushed the drunk back even though he was the smaller man thanks to his stockiness.
"Aw, come on! Shay shometin', Kagemusha!" Sho called out to the silent Kinta once more.
"...Kagemusha, huh?" the fourth man of Kojima's group finally said, a toothpick jutting out of his mouth. "That's such an interesting name. Didn't the Gaikokujin (Foreigner) Battousai call you by that name too?"
Everyone turned to the person who spoke, who wore a straw hat to hide his face. He raised his headwear up, revealing himself as someone who was mighty familiar to the Kanagawa squadron.
"H-Hasegawa-kun!?" exclaimed both Captain Nishimura and Sergeant Dankichi.
Incidentally, Shuichi Hasegawa was one of the police officers who deserted Akahori's Shinshushin Mansion after the one-man army known as Shogo Amakusa massacred their multiple squads.
"Lieutenant Nishimura. Long time, no see."
"That's Captain Nishimura to you, Hasegawa-kun."
"O-ho. So you're Captain Yamada's replacement, huh?"
"Hey, you two! You're also deserters, aren't you? You're from the Gunma Squad!" said Sugiura to Hasegawa's companions, which were themselves disgraced officers from the Gunma District: Yogi Takahashi and Hiroshi Hosokawa.
Ignoring his former comrades from Yokohama, the toothpick-chewing ex-cop stared daggers at Kinta and said, "Our new friend Kojima told us a lot about you, Kagemusha. It confirmed what we already knew. Hey guys, did you know that a Kagemusha is a political decoy for someone else?"
Kinta's Adam's apple bobbed up and down his neck. He nevertheless stood his ground, his hand hovering over handle of his sword, the Akatsuki (Red Moon or Dawn).
"What's the meaning of this, Hasegawa-kun?" demanded Captain Nishimura, which prompted his former subordinate to smirk at him and say, "Too bad you're stuck protecting a traitor, Captain."
That prompted a sideways glance from Kojima. "Traitor? I don't 'member callin' nobody a traitor."
"Except he is," snorted Shuichi. "After all, he's the Shadow Warrior of Amakusa Shogo. His doppelganger."
That was the function of a Kagemusha during Ancient Japan. They didn't necessarily need to be warriors per se, but it helped if they were. The Kagemusha were decoy look-alikes assigned to draw attention away from the real persons they were protecting while they took risks on behalf of them.
And it just so happened that Minakata was the Kagemusha of Shogo Amakusa a good six years ago.
Doubles were selected because of their strong physical resemblance to the person they were impersonating, which could be further strengthened with similar articles of clothing and disguises (in Kinta's case, he dyed his red hair blackish brown) and mimicry of habits and behavior.
Even from afar, Amakusa and Minakata were virtually indistinguishable from each other.
"Wait..." said the short but gruff Officer Yukio, who became part of Akahori's police protection gig because his friends were killed by the one-man army known as Amakusa. "Is this true? Were you Amakusa's Kagemusha, Minakata? If so, then why the fuck were you acting as his double? Why did you betray Japan for a terrorist and his cult?"
Hasegawa sneered while playing with the toothpick in his mouth. "Isn't that the million yen question?" he asked then glanced back at his fellow deserters, Yogi and Hiroshi.
"I ain't askin' any of ya yellow-bellied cowards! I'm askin' him!" snapped Sugiura. "Well? Tell me. Because I have no intention of protecting the lives of a traitor and his family."
Minakata winced and looked away.
"That's unfair, Sugiura-kun!" The one who spoke on Kinta's behalf was Lieutenant Satoru. "Hasegawa-kun, you only know half of the story. Kinta-kun became Amakusa's Kagemusha because he was working as a double agent for the government under Akahori-san's command! He's the reason why we were able to stop the Modern Shimabara Rebellion six years ago! He infiltrated Amakusa's inner circle and destroyed it from within!"
"Oho. Sho the plot thickensh," said Kojima while elbowing the ribs of the Gunma ex-officers. "He washn't a traitor to Japan, but a traitor to the man he wash shupposed to protect."
Minakata's sharp eyes looked up in time to see the drunk Sho soundlessly mouth the words, 'Amakusa's Judas Iscariot.'
Sho might as well have said it out loud. None of these Buddhist and/or Shintoist police officers (or ex-cops) would recognize the Christian reference to the betrayer of Jesus Christ.
Furthermore, the drunkard's slurred words and Japanese accent already made it hard to understand what he was saying.
Unfazed, Kanagawa's Ex-Officer Hasegawa snorted. "So what? You think that lets him off the hook? It was also your precious Akahori-san who pointed out that chances are, over half of the people killed by 'Amakusa' was probably done in by his doppelganger instead."
"W-What...?" stuttered Sakaguchi. "That can't be right! There's no way Kinta-kun is a cop killer! He's a traitor to the religious extremists, not to us! He's one of the good guys! He's a veteran of the Bakumatsu! The Mimawarigumi Battousai! He's a hero, for Buddha's sake!"
"Spare me your hero worship. It's that bastard who killed my fellow officers from Kanagawa." Hasegawa pointed a long wooden stick at Minakata. "It's this traitor who murdered my comrades. My family. He was supposed to be a double agent for us, but he got too close to Amakusa's cult. He got in too deep."
Minakata gulped but didn't look away from Hasegawa and his accusations, his eyes unblinking. Mostly because he knew their accusations were true.
In his mind's eye, he had memories of murdering countless soldiers from the Imperial Japanese Army while he was disguised as Amakusa. Under Shogo's orders. The Shadow Warrior acting as the shadow to the person.
"H-He couldn't have... He didn't want to blow his cover..." Sarge tried to search for words to justify Kinta's actions, but they tasted quite bitter in his mouth.
"Blow his cover?" Yogi was the one who talked this time, caressing part of his ear that had been sliced off by the whirling dervish known as Amakusa. "Please. Even as a double agent, the moment you kill people from your own side is the moment you become a turncoat!"
According to Kirisute Gomen (The Samurai's Right to Strike), the hatamoto-class Minakata had every right to strike down any commoner (and this was a former copper) that dishonored him.
However, this was the Meiji Era, where the Minakatas' influence was more from their wealth than from their status as samurai.
"Would you really risk your life to protect a known accomplice of a terrorist?" added Ex-Officer Hiroshi. "I know I wouldn't. I'd rather turn in my badge than do that!"
Seeing the officers hesitate after hearing all that new information, Hasegawa herded Takahashi and Hosokawa around Minakata, surrounding him. All three had their own bokken (wooden swords).
Kinta backed off before putting his hand over his sword's handle. He didn't need Kirisute Gomen to give him the right to protect himself from attackers.
The other officers pulled their own guns and sabers, with the Kanagawa Captain commanding, "Back down or we'll arrest you! You were the ones who left us to die in the hands of Amakusa, not Minakata! Also, don't forget that Minakata was the one who saved us from the Gaijin Battousai! I trust him!"
From there, the ex-copper lackeys of Hasegawa drew their cane blades from what looked like wooden swords and struggled against Captain Nishimura and Officer Sugiura, leaving Sakaguchi to fend for Minakata.
"I don't care! The reason I went after Amakusa was because he killed my friends, but then I found out that Minakata is partly responsible for their deaths too!" Shuichi drew his own sword. "Even if he saved my life, I'll make him regret making that choice!"
With a quick-draw slash from behind using the Waning Stance of Musou Madden Ryu, Sakaguchi's saber whistled through the air and sliced something cleanly in half that was thrown at Minakata's face.
Unfortunately, it was the scabbard of Hasegawa's cane sword. "...Dammit!"
Meanwhile, from the Waxing Stance of the Musou Madden Ryu, Kinta's body tensed. Like a coiled snake waiting to strike at the right moment.
"How can you trust Minakata if he killed and betrayed people from both sides of the war? Which side is he on? Are you sure he's even on your side, Captain!?"
Hasegawa charged in for the kill, his sword in a stabbing position. The Kagemusha of Shogo Amakusa slashed upwards, but the ex-cop was actually doing a feint; the slash flew past his arm, merely scratching its surface.
"I GOT YOU NOW, YOU TRAITOROUS BASTARD! GO TO HELL!"
Kinta then turned and did a foot pivot, the centrifugal force from his initial slash aiding him to complete his Full Moon Slash right as the tip of Shuichi's sword ended up mere inches away from his back.
Everyone else forgot a certain someone in all the commotion, though.
Sho Kojima grumbled, "Ugh. What a pain," before shoving Hasegawa out of the way of Kinta's incoming blade and shouting, "GESSHOKU! (LUNAR ECLIPSE!)"
From a nearby Yokohama Tea House and Inn...
"And there goes another one," said Soujiro Seta after "taking care" of yet another hitman near one of many mansions owned by the powerful Minakata Family.
Who knew they hired shinobi for guards? Or they'd have so many houses all over Japan? Must be nice to be filthy rich.
The camouflage-wearing bodyguard probably thought that he was completely invisible to everyone around him, only to encounter someone who moved so fast he was truly undetectable: The Heaven Sword.
Luckily for the interloper, Seta felt merciful enough to spare him by merely cutting the branch of the tree he was on.
After all, he didn't want Rin Akahori to see him bathing in a rain of blood.
Also, the Mimawarigumi Battousai would be alerted of his presence sooner rather than later if that were to happen.
He had half the mind to follow the escaping ninjutsu spy right back to their hideout, but thought better of it.
Oh well. Elaborate, diabolical plans and detective work were more the style of Tetsuo Akahori or Makoto Shishio anyway.
"What was that, Seta-kun?" she asked.
"Just a big bird I shooed away," he lied.
The white-skinned Rin adjusted her glasses, her silver eyes turning pinkish red from the way the light hit them.
For a split-second, like a dog or cat with luminescent eyes, she looked like a youkai (demon).
A demon with the face of a goddess. Hair as white as milk. Skin as pale and pink as a newborn child.
Soujiro smilingly turned away after realizing he'd been staring at her for too long. Good thing the young Akahori maiden had poor eyesight.
"That was a pretty big bird," she remarked.
"Yeah, I'd say so," he answered.
"First time I ever heard a bird grunt in pain too, Seta-kun."
Seta scratched the back of his head. "Er..."
"...Thank you for saving me from another one of those hoodlums who keep harassing my family."
The muscles in Soujiro's mouth relaxed, his frozen smile on his face turning soft. "You're welcome, milady. That's what a bodyguard is for, after all."
She stared at him blankly and blinked. "Also, you're a bad liar."
He grinned. "You got me. I apologize."
Strange, he could've sworn he could lie better than most. Even Kenshin Himura had a hard time reading his intentions when they battled.
Rin removed her glasses and moved forward with her walking stick in tow. The color of her eyes changed as soon as a different light source shone on them, going from red to silver.
Her irises moved back and forth. Constantly. Shaking like frightened lambs even though her own face's flat expression belied the seeming surge of emotion from them.
He didn't know which one of them had a better poker face, to be honest.
"The Togakudan is supposed to report back to us soon," she reminded him, waking him from his reverie. "If we're surrounded by the Minakata Family's allies, then that explains why they haven't returned yet."
"Hmmm? Oh yeah, of course," he said. "I'm surprised there's still anyone left of them after they were annihilated by the Battousai of Speed."
Soujiro's short hairs went straight up, his pores puckering up into gooseflesh in remembrance of the Kenshin look-alike... Kaede Morinaga... who he went to war with.
He still had the faint scratches and multiple-stitch scars all over his body to prove it.
"There's only three of them left," she informed. "Two of them were survivors from the last attempt at Father's life, and one of them is a relative of their boss."
Because of the hullabaloo from the outside, the Shiba dogs from within the yard barked hard at the strangers at the gate.
"What's with the racket? What's going on here?" shouted the living teratoma that turned into a little girl... a literal lady version of Pinocchio or perhaps Galatea... at the bedlam that erupted in front of the Minakata Mansion's gates.
"S-Six fingers!" said Lieutenant Sakaguchi, pointing at the drunkard Sho with the same bug-eyed, mouth-agape expression on his face as everyone else. "That drunk man... Kojima... has six fingers in each hand!"
"What is he, a circus freak?!" said Sugiura after manhandling his opponent, Hosokawa, and wrestling him to the ground.
Minakata had noticed that peculiar characteristic of Kojima right away as soon as he met him, but for the first time, even in the darkness, everyone else realized what was so off with the drunk wearing pompadour hair and colorful clothes.
Sho the Twelve-Fingered Man had grabbed hold of the pommel of Kinta's sword right as the swordsman was about to complete the twice-hitting attack of the Full Moon Slash.
The drunk's huge hand (which was the size of a catcher's mitt in baseball) stopped the finishing attack cold.
On his other hand was the bleeding sword arm of a struggling Shuichi, who said, "LEGGO! That bastard barely scratched my arm! I still have a shot!"
"Scratched you? If Kinta completed that strike, you'd lose more than an arm. I'd probably be talking to two of you."
'Eclipse, huh?' thought Kinta. Indeed, Sho had "eclipsed" the Mangetsu O Tsuku Nari (Full Moon Slash), stuffing down an offensive powerful enough to bisect a man in half. The ultimate shirahadori (disarming) technique.
As expected of a fellow practitioner of Musou Madden Ryu.
"Don't let your feelings get the better of you like the last time, y'hear?" said the sober-speaking drunk to Kinta with a wink of his bloodshot eyes. "I won't let you go into a killing spree like the last time. Every life is precious."
Minakata's frown turned into a scowl after Kojima let go of his Akatsuki sword. Were the rumors about the Cunning Strategist of the Bakufu turning into a peace-loving drunk who saved lives with his sword true?
The Mimawarigumi Battousai didn't want to kill those soldiers to prove himself to Shogo that he was a worthy Kagemusha.
However, those Imperial Army monsters... perhaps some of them were Hasegawa's friends... did horrible things to the villagers associated with the Hidden Christians.
Unspeakable things. To men. Women. Children. Like it was a sneak peek into Christian Hell. What animals men turned into when they were at war.
As a double agent of the government, he wasn't supposed to touch or aid the "terrorist" group he attempted to infiltrate.
As a human being though, justice needed to be served.
His jaw clenched in remembrance. His whole face tensed so hard, his faint cross scars that intersected into his nose became visible.
Regardless, the hatamoto-class samurai put the Akatsuki away, sheathing it into its scabbard.
Both Captain Nishimura and Officer Sugiura were then assisted by the rest of their crew... Officers Atsushi Dankichi and Kazuki Michishige.
"You're all under arrest for trespassing in private property, attacking officers of the law, attempted murder, and disturbing the peace!" said Dankichi before recognizing one of them. "H-Hasegawa? You're still alive?!"
"Shit, that whole thing sobered me up," said Sho while rubbing his bleary eyes and yawning. "I need a drink, man."
"You! Twelve-fingered drunk man! You're under arrest too!" said Officer Kazuki.
"ME? Fuck off! I saved your asses, you crummy coppers!" rejoined Kojima.
The dizzy Shuichi shook his head and snarled, then pulled a revolver out of his sleeve, aiming it at the cross-shaped target on Minakata's head.
If he couldn't kill that coward from up close then he'd kill him from a safe distance.
Shots were fired.
His aim was off by a mile thanks to a yen coin hitting him right between the eyes, flicked into his face by the same drunk who pushed him down.
"YOU AGAIN! Stop getting in my way, you drunkard! DIE ALREADY!" raged Hasegawa.
As expected of a drunk, the off-kilter and off-balanced Kojima swayed and stumbled all over the place. However, like he'd already admitted, he was stone-cold sober. He didn't need to be drunk to act like he was drunk.
All the while, the yen coin kept spinning in the air.
Kinta narrowed his eyes in recognition of the stance. Zui Quan (Drunken Fist) straight from China. A martial art that mimicked drunkenness without needing inebriation.
As soon as the coin was about to hit the ground, Sho juggled it back up again with that long staff of his he carried on his shoulder. Again and again in a rhythmic beat. Soon, he was right in front of Hasegawa.
"TSUNAMI!"
His six-fingered hands became blurs as his staff hit Shuichi's face again and again in rapid succession. Like a tidal wave, Sho's attack gained momentum after a series of waves, with each strike getting faster and stronger until the ninth wave, which was the fastest and strongest.
It was also the finishing blow that knocked the black-and-blue Hasegawa out cold. By the time Kojima caught his flying coin with his huge palm, Shuichi had collapsed into a dead faint.
"...It's the same technique!" said Officers Sugiura, Michishige, and Matsura, recognizing the attack the Mimawarigumi Battousai used against the Gaijin Battousai in the Namamugi Fish Market a few months back.
"Of course," said Kinta. "Kojima taught me that move."
"WHAT?!" said the entire police squad from Kanagawa in unison. "THAT HOMELESS BUM?!"
"Can anyone tell me what the heck is going on? DIOS MIO!" asked Abelia.
Beyond the borders of the Kannai Foreign Settlement in the Naka Ward of Yokohoma, within the more questionable and poverty stricken areas of the city filled with not only criminals, but members of organized crime...
A blond, blue-eyed, yet mixed-raced Eurasian had already left the Port of Yokohama by carriage when he and his raven-haired, top-hat-wearing driver were halted by Japanese folk of the tattooed variety.
They were yakuza, he believed. The Japanese equivalent of the English mobsters or the Chinese Three Harmonies Society, if he wasn't mistaken.
It was your average shakedown for money from rich foreign people who got a little lost and strayed outside of their settlement. Fair was fair, as far as yakuza were concerned.
The passenger and his horseman were taken out of their carriage and stomped on with clogs and wooden sticks while the other thugs looted the inside of the vehicle like a swarm of ants to food.
"Get out of there, filthy gaijin pig," grunted one of the thugs that intercepted their vehicle. "We don't take kindly to the likes of you in these parts, you barbarian."
"Let's just kidnap him for ransom so that we can get more money out of him."
"You think his family is loaded?"
"He wouldn't be dressed in all these nice clothes if he weren't. Let's ask him about his family when we get him back to the hideout."
"Watch out, we don't want another Namamugi Incident in our hands," said another thug with bright red and green dragon tattoos, reminding everyone of the time when the death of British Nationals led to the Bombardment of Kagoshima through the full might of the Royal Navy.
The hefty, sumo-sized Asian ruffian assured, "Relax. Remember, dead men tell no tales. Sonno Joi."
Sonno Joi. Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians. Emperor Komei's 1863 order was still alive and well in 1884 Japan, even after the Satsuma Domain forged a pact with the British Forces that defeated them to arm them with enough English artillery to win the Bakumatsu.
In broken English, yet another sleazy yakuza snake hissed, "Your family give us money, we don't hurt you. Understand?"
Lucas Grant smiled a red, broken grin, his nose bubbling with blood. "Blimey. Didn't quite hear you there, mate. Speak up, son."
Back in Hiroshima, on December 1884...
While eating lunch at a park on Chizuru Raikouji's yen...
(This was because Munenori Minoe didn't have any money on him, their new friend May "Satsuki" Brooks had a teacher's salary, Yahiko wired most of his reward money back to Tokyo because Gan kept borrowing from him, and Gan was... well, Gan.)
'Damn. December 3 was the Kitsune Lady's birthday,' Myojin realized while munching on his vegetable teriyaki box. 'I totally missed it. I wish I'd sent her a postcard a few months in advance. Or gone to her clinic in Aizu.'
They all got bento "to go" because May had to eat at a separate place for gaijin, and they wanted to eat together.
Yahiko blinked. 'Wait, Aizu is called Fukushima nowadays, right? Oh well, she might've gone to the Kamiya Dojo to celebrate her birthday there instead, so I would've missed her.'
"What's the deal with the vagabond's scar, Yahiko?" Chizuru asked the Tokyo Samurai Descendant from out of the blue.
Wow. What an ice breaker.
Myojin scratched the back of his head. "Eh? Why ask me that now of all times?"
"Just answer the question, you little rascal."
Yahiko exhaled. That origin story seemed, to him, too grim and heavy to reveal so soon to the bright-eyed Raikouji.
It took Kenshin himself almost half a year before he was forced to tell the rest of the Kenshingumi about Tomoe Yukishiro, her brother Enishi, and his past as the Hitokiri Battousai.
'The secret behind his scars, huh?' thought Myojin. He then revealed, "Kenshin got his cheek slashed back in the Bakumatsu. It wasn't deep, it didn't need stitches, but it took a long time to heal, so it became a visible scar. His trademark."
"A scar on the cheek, eh? Reminds me of my scar on my chin," brought up Satsuki.
"Huh? What are you talking about, Miss Melon?" Gan asked the voluptuous Miss Brooks, before appending, "Ow. I mean, Gaijin-neechan," after Chizuru poked him in the eye.
"Oh, so you wanna know how I got this scar, huh?" asked May.
With one eye closed and the other eye squinted, the oversized, bandanna-wearing thug then said, "Oh, wait, I can totally see it now. It's faint, but it's there. Where'd that come from?"
"Funny story," began Brooks with a tug of her collar before Chizuru blabbed, "She was climbing atop a guard rail when she fell and scratched her cheek on one of the pointed edges. It bled all over the place, she needed loads of stitches on the cut, and it took months for it to heal."
"Huh. No kidding." The Curious Gan scratched his nose, remembering the sweet, innocent angel she met on the train station in contrast to a tomboy who climbed rails for fun.
"WHAT THE HELL were you thinking, WOMAN? That's something I'd expect Kaori-neechan to do, not you!"
"HEY!" said Chizuru with a stomp on Gan's foot.
"OW! Case in point," said Gan before stomping Chizuru's foot back.
While Gan and Chizuru played "footsie" with each other, Satsuki covered her mouth, giggled, and batted her eyelashes.
"Oh my, I could never imagine that you'd do something so uncouth, being the privileged rich girl that you are, Chizuru-obasan!"
"Mochiron!" cheered Minoe. "As expected of Satsuki-chi."
"HEY! Sarcasm is supposed to me my thing!" fumed Chizuru. "Whose side are you on, Minoe-chan?"
May's green eyes glistened in remembrance of the event. She didn't even cry one tear after the blood flowed from her chin to all over her dress at the time although the rest of the Sakaguchis (and a certain Raikouji) cried out for her safety in her stead.
She'd gone through much worse, after all. When all she remembered from her past was her name.
The memory made her smile. She might've overdid it with her horseplay at the time, but it was way better than venturing outside in the middle of war-torn Yokohama streets and all the "Sonno Joi" paranoia.
It was a happy scar instead of a sad one.
Back in the yakuza lair, after multiple criminals ganged up on a carriage driver and his rich passenger...
"WHAT YOU NAME!?" said the fatter of the two hoodlums in non-fluent English, who punched the half-gaijin's nose until it was crooked.
Licking his lips and laughing, Lucas surprised his assailants by saying in Japanese, "You punch like a little girl. You have to hit harder than that for me to feel it."
Indeed, while the sumo-like yakuza was much wider than Lucas was tall, he nevertheless was also much shorter than him.
"Wait a minute," said the thinner, snakier one of the gangsters after seeing the broken-nosed, Japanese-speaking Grant in a different light. "This man, he's half! A half-breed!"
"You wanted to know my name, right? It's Lucas Grant. Remember it."
The taller, larger blond then proceeded to pummel his attackers with 18th Century Prizefight techniques (from jabs to haymakers) that eventually evolved into 19th Century Boxing.
As taught to him by the Faceless, who himself was once a prizefighter. In one of his many lives.
"...During my childhood, there was nowhere I belonged to. From England to Hong Kong, I was considered part of the Yellow Peril. A filthy immigrant. In Japan, I was considered gaijin. A barbarian. I was neither and both Asian and European at the same time."
Lucas's associate got up and stabbed one of the yakuza with a hidden shiv. One laced with strychnine, which was to be expected of the treacherous Gaikokujin Battousai, Cain Merrick.
The gangster convulsed in minutes, making the rest of the yakuza cower in fear of the poisoner.
"I could've had two homelands, but instead, I was excluded from both," Lucas continued his soliloquy and his beat down of his multiple opponents with his naked fists. "I was an outsider no matter where I went. I have no nationality. I am an outcast who only belongs with other outcasts."
As for Cain, he didn't even bother with good ol' fashioned fisticuffs, opting to instead fight dirty with eye gauging, fishhooks, and poison stabs.
"I don't play by anyone's rules!" said Grant, although Merrick's actions spoke louder than the Eurasian's words in terms of not playing by the rules of combat.
"ENOUGH!" roared the sumo-sized tattooed yakuza, who countered Lucas's rules of engagement and dealt a low blow that allowed him to lift the half-breed up in a chokehold. "You have nothing to be proud of with your heritage! It makes you a mutt! A pariah! An untouchable! You might as well be burakumin (outcast)!"
"That's fine by me," rasped a grinning Lucas. "I'm one of the brigands of the Brigands Guild. A proud member. With ties stronger and thicker than blood ever will!"
Even after the yakuza scrambled for their cane swords and nihontou (Japanese katana), they stopped cold after Lucas and Cain had somehow gotten hold of their own weapons, which were a thick steel bastard sword and a halved longsword laced with black adder venom.
Grant then asked, "Which one of you will survive and prove worthy enough to be part of my gang, I wonder?"
"You're a real piece of work, Luke," chuckled Merrick. "An anarchist through and through."
This whole event actually came about because early on, Lucas was a bit shorthanded when it came to having lackeys he could use to bolster the Brigands Guild's numbers against the police-protected Minakata Family.
Rather than go with Seth's plan to buy the services of local thugs as henchmen, he had another idea altogether.
A better one that was more his style.
So his simple plan was to travel all gussied up across the red-light district, near the heart of organized crime... the dark side of Japan... in order to find the perfect thugs for the job.
Before the two huge gaijin invaded a yakuza stronghold, during an earlier rendezvous at the Port of Yokohama, in one of the warehouses there that had been broken into...
"LUCAS! GUTEN TAG (GOOD DAY)!" bellowed the huge, muscular German man-beast known as Hugo Lentz, with hands even bigger (and hairier) than those of the six-fingered man, Sho Kojima, that enveloped Lucas's whole arm as he shook it.
"LENTZ! Long time, no see, you gigantic lummox!" said the Eurasian Grant, whose English genes of British stuffiness and Japanese genes of inhibited reservation went to war inside of him.
Thankfully, his brash inner Cockney (with a tinge of Hong Kong Colonial) kicked the collective arses of both of those sissy tendencies as he grabbed hold of his old comrade-in-arms in a tight embrace anyway.
"You're looking as bricky as ever, mate!"
"Danke, mein Freund (Thank you, my friend)," said the brown-haired German giant. "It's nice to see you again as vell. Still loud und obnoxious, ja?"
"Yes, quite. Unlike you, ever the wallflower."
"Vill we get to bash der heads in soon, Lucas?"
"Asking all the right questions as always, my friend," said Grant. "Of course. We will give some rapscallion what for, I assure."
"VUNDABAR! I cannot vait!" said the auburn-haired and bearded mammoth. "Ve squash zem all like ze gnats!"
After a final friendly slap to Lentz's python-like biceps, Lucas then turned in time to see his old mentor glide into view.
The Faceless. A man of many names and of many faces (despite his name), but for today he was known as Seth Merrick. His latest mask was that of a middle-aged aristocratic Englishman taking a quiet reprieve in the Far East. Probably because he was sick and tired hunting down game and natives in African safaris.
Lentz harrumphed at the disguised man of unknown national origins, saying, "Haughty Englishman came in 'fashionably' late. A whole hour. Ven are you going to get ze German disguise and learn some manners?"
Merrick smirked and guffawed, "Vell, mein punctual Freund," in a mock German accent, finishing his thought with a typical Englishman assurance of, "I'll certainly keep that in mind, ol' chap. It's honestly my fault, really. Although isn't it rather dangerous to use your entire vocabulary in one sentence?"
The chuckling Lucas said to the growling German, "Now, now, Lentz. He's late because he had to procure some important documents for me." He then addressed his mentor. "Merrick, let me have those papers."
"Here you go, Luke."
Thanks to the intel provided to them by the inimitable spy and Master of Disguise, straight from the files of the Yokohama Police, the Brigands Guild knew exactly where the Minakata Family was.
After looking through the police files, Grant scratched his chin and grinned. "Old man! You came through, as always, you regular crackerjack you! Jolly good show. Not bad for someone as ancient as you."
"My word. That's certainly one way of looking at things," said the Elder Merrick with a wry smile, one of his swords... a dagger... unsheathed, his finger playing with its pinpoint tip.
The hairs at the back of Lucas's neck stood on end after seeing the sharp glaze in the Faceless's eyes. He cleared his throat, realizing he'd said too much.
"Not to worry, my boy." Seth winked. "I was merely pretending, y'see. You're very much welcome, young man."
"Right, then."
Lucas then reviewed the scrolls and papers under lamplight.
"While Cain alone or any one of us in the Brigands Guild could wipe out the entire Minakata Family under normal circumstances, we've gotten into a bit of a pickle with the man named 'Kinta'."
Luke's blue eyes narrowed, glinting green from the ambient light.
"Kinta, the eldest grandson of the Minakatas, is a hatamoto-class samurai master. If you don't know what that is, then you can consider him a duke, a don, or a baron. Japanese royalty. He's also our biggest obstacle in this mission of ours, along with the rest of the Sakaguchis serving under his family. Particularly their Japanese sword-drawing school."
"I'd say," greeted another new arrival that made Lentz stir.
The raven-haired Cain Merrick, who stood many yards away from the reunited Lentz, Lucas, and (especially) his "father" Seth, sneered in remembrance of how Minakata almost killed him and destroyed his poison sword Durandal for good measure.
Lucas smirked at the Foreigner Battousai. "That bloke batty-fanged you real good, didn't he?"
Cain smirked, his grin almost breaking his face. "If you say so, mate." Again, tingling gooseflesh appeared all over Grant's exposed flesh. Like father, like son.
Regardless, neither of the Merricks were talking or even looking at each other.
Luke opened up another letter and scanned through Seth's detailed notes. "Kinta is looking for something from his deceased grandfather. I wonder what it could be..."
"So what's the plan, you stupid gaijin?" said a certain someone from above the four members of the Brigands Guild. In Japanese.
"Bloody 'ell, I was wondering when you'd show up, mate," said Lucas to the final member of their brigade.
Hanging from the ceiling upside down like a bat was none other than the goggled ninja known as Kai Hidaka, a long-time partner-in-crime of the Faceless.
Lentz reached and poked at the black-garbed creature with his huge ax. "DUMBKOPF! Geddown from der and valk upright like a normal person! Ja dink you're better dan us? I svat you like fly, puny Chinaman!"
"I'm a spider, not a fly. And this is my web." Hidaka blasted a grappling hook shot from his belt, swung off, and rappelled atop a stack of crates, beyond the behemoth's reach. "Get that smelly, growling German bear away from me, Lucas."
Everyone had finally arrived: "The Homunculus" Cain Merrick, his father "The Faceless" Seth Merrick, the German behemoth Hugo Lenz, and Kai Hidaka of the Fuuma Ninja Clan.
And so all the available members of the Brigands Guild were there in Japan at last.
"Listen carefully, all of you. I've been planning for this day my whole life. We will not yield an inch to this cursed family. They've created a monster; this monster before you. It's time for them, as the Japanese would say, to take responsibility for me."
Grant picked up a frayed booklet of his own and read through it. A gift given to him by the man who started him on his lifelong journey towards revenge.
"When it comes to the Minakatas, we need more than just one plan. We should have multiple plans. Plan A to Z. We're going to war with one of the most powerful families in Japan who's guarded by what could be the top swordsman in the country and backed by another family of experienced kenjutsu masters."
Luke slammed his fist on the crate, which cracked the wood. "We cannot have any room for error. Whatever it takes, we'll take them all down. One by one. From all angles. We will not give them any room to breathe. We will suffocate them."
Back in the Minakata Residence, after three ex-cops and deserters were arrested for attacking a VIP under police protection...
So who did Kinta happen to find right behind one of the couches of his family's eastern-western fusion mansion?
"W-What's goin' on out there, n-nephew?" the cringing, sweaty, and overweight Kaneda Minakata asked after going downstairs to check out what was going on. "I-I was about to sleep when I heard gunshots! A-Are the assassins here? Save me, Kinta!"
"..."
Dutiful a nephew as he was, Kinta had half the mind to throw his uncle "out in the wild" and let nature take its course.
After being briefed about what had transpired, the stuttering Kaneda said to the Kanagawa officers assigned to drive the arrested criminals to the police station, "W-Watch out and be on alert, this attack could all be a distraction for the assassins to sneak in!"
The rotund lawyer shook so visibly his belly and other parts of his body jiggled like gelatin.
"Relax, Uncle," said Kinta to Kaneda. "You're safe with me."
Kaneda's shoulders, which he raised so high up his neck ended up disappearing in folds of fat, went back down, making him stoop and wobble like a tanuki statue.
"Thank you, nephew. You were always such a good kid. I'm counting on you to deal with this nonsense, okay?"
Kinta nodded in agreement.
"That Minakata Kinta fellow doesn't say much, does he?" remarked a sighing Sergeant Dankichi, mumbling under his breath, "He could've at least explained what's going on with his double agent situation he had with the Shimabara Rebels."
The little Spaniard (kind of) girl that insisted she was a grown woman commented, "It's okay. He reminds me of an old Spanish saying. A buen entendedor, pocas palabras bastan."
"Hmm? What does that mean?" Atsushi asked Abelia.
La Cerca answered, "It means, 'To someone with good understanding, only a few words are necessary.' He doesn't need to say anything more, as far as I'm concerned. I trust him wholeheartedly."
The Sarge harrumphed. "Jeez. Easy for you to say."
After the Gunma and Kanagawa deserters were arrested and sent to prison, the martial artist drunkard Kojima reassured them, "You can trust Kinta. He didn't betray the country to terrorists. If you've encountered Shogo in action nowadays, then you've probably seen that crucifix scar on his chest, right? The Mimawarigumi Battousai was responsible for that. He pretty much almost killed him."
The Yokohama Captain nodded at Sho, tipping his hat to him and stealing glances at Kinta. Remembering Hasegawa's words about him murdering soldiers and cops while undercover.
Could they really trust the man? Whose side was he on? Nishimura wasn't so sure himself.
The scraggly Kojima then took one look at Abelia and asked the rest of the cops, "Who's the lost gaijin kid?"
"I'M NOT A KID AND I'M NOT LOST!" screeched La Cerca, whose jaws snapped at Sho's six-fingered hand like an angry puppy.
"Really? Are you a preschooler?"
"I'm not a preschooler!"
"So... you're already in grade school?"
"I'm going to hit you!"
"Sure, go ahead. I'm not afraid of some kid."
That earned him a pinky bite and insults from two languages. "ESTUPIDO! BAKA! My name is Abelia La Cerca and I'm a fully grown adult!"
...Or maybe his pinky was called something different, since there was an extra finger between his pinky and ring finger.
A minute later, Kojima recovered, did a low whistle and asked around, "Which one of you corrupt cops ordered a Spanish midget?"
She hit him in the balls, and he crumpled to the ground.
"OW! DAMMIT, GIRL!"
"Who the heck are you anyway?"
"Kojima Sho at your service, Milady!"
Dankichi chuckled. "What a pair you two would make at the circus. The twelve-fingered man and the dwarf doctor."
A shin kick and a punch later, and Sarge ended up down and out.
"UNCLE! GIMME SOME BOOZE! I hate being sober!" said the pompadour-sporting Sho at Kaneda while jiggling his blubbery chin.
"Wha... Who the hell is this interloper? Are you some sort of vagrant? Begone from my home, homeless person! Guards! GUARDS! Seize this man! He might be one of the assassins!"
Sugiura of all people conked Kaneda's head. "Shut up, you fat pig! It's because of that hobo that you and your nephew are still alive! Give him the best wine you got; he deserves it!"
"Don't mind if I do," said Sho, who found the liquor cabinet and lock-picked it open.
"W-Wait! Those are my vintage collection of imported fine spirits! DON'T TOUCH THEM, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!" cried the larger of the two Minakatas while inadvertently lifting Officer Yukio up, who hung around his gigantic neck like a backwards tie after attempting a head lock from behind.
Regardless, here were Sho's parting words to Kinta for the night, a bottle of genuine imperial Tokay wine in his possession.
"Shogo made a mistake in making you his Kagemusha."
Kinta narrowed his eyes in askance.
"Only shadows are worthy of such a position, because a shadow should never stand up or walk on its own. No shadow should ever be greater than the man in front of it. You were no shadow of Amakusa Shogo. You instead stood as equals."
Right at that moment, Minakata flashed back at the time when he dealt what could've been a finishing blow to Amakusa: A vertical scar that intersected with a horizontal scar that he got from another battle.
A literal cross for him to bear.
"You almost made him into your shadow, didn't you?" said Kojima before taking a swig of alcohol, pushing its chubby owner away with his long drying pole stick as he did so.
"..." was all the former Kagemusha could muster up, partly because hearing such serious words in the middle of such a ridiculous scene would've left anyone speechless.
Late at night, what was left of the police guards took turns in finding any signs of assassins coming over the place.
They also waited for their fellow Kanagawa coppers to come back from their trip to the station and fill in their posts.
Sleepy as they were, the antics of the loud and obnoxious Sho kept them awake.
Like him juggling wine bottles with his gibbon arms and six-fingered, frying pan hands in front of an applauding Abelia and a whining, blubbering Kaneda.
"Please don't make a mess! I'll give you anything! All the drinks you want! Just go away!" pleaded the unhinged, bawling lawyer with a cringing crooked smile that made him look like Budai or Hotei (the fat Laughing Buddha seen in many Buddhist temple statues).
The multilingual little girl of indeterminate age then realized in mid-clap that she wasn't at a circus and she should really berate the pompadour-wearing clown in front of her.
"HEY! Stop that! Dejate de tonteras! (Stop that nonsense!) You bum! Borracho! (Drunkard!)" said La Cerca.
Kojima caught all bottles and set them to the floor without breaking them, which made the sweaty Kaneda fall to the couch in a dead faint.
"I dunno whatsh yer problem, li'l mish Shpanish girl. I thought Shpaniardsh loved shiestash and booze."
She kicked his shin. "CHORRA! Take that back! Don't speak ill of Spaniards, you long-armed, twelve-fingered hobo!"
"Fine, I could be wrong! Sheesh. It'sh not that we have Shpanish people coming to Japan in drovesh or anythin'..."
Later on, Abelia forgave Kojima after he offered to buy her sweet potatoes to make up for his rudeness.
The younger Minakata chuckled. Like a child, Abelia immediately forgot what she and Sho were arguing about after being bribed with food.
Meanwhile, Kinta himself was having a sleepless night. He brought loads of scrolls and documents to the Sanada Ninja Spies one after another for examination and deciphering, if only to find out the truth about the Seiryu Clan.
It was all a shot in the dark at this point in time. He wasn't even sure if the so-called Black Book truly existed.
There was one problem, though. One of the shinobi he was supposed to meet up with had disappeared. This wasn't unusual in and of itself since they were masters of camouflage and invisibility, but this time around, they didn't return at all.
He might already be too late regardless, though. Whatever relevant documents there were about the Seiryu Clan or the Black Book was probably already destroyed by his grandpa at this point.
He paused at one of the documents, his tight grip almost crumpling the paper. It was a copy of the Family Registry, with his mother's name omitted from it after she was disowned by both the Akahori (his father's side of the family) and Minakata Households.
The door opened, and in came Lieutenant Sakaguchi. "Captain Nishimura is already back from the station," he informed, and the former Kagemusha nodded.
After a bit of hesitation, he added, "I know you'd never betray us, Kinta-kun," which made the young Minakata nod and smile.
Good ol' "Satoru-kun". Oh wait, he was supposed to be "Sakaguchi-san" or "Satoru-san" now. Or even "Lieutenant Sakaguchi", at that.
He remembered Satoru when he was still a scrawny kid trying desperately to woo the beautiful daughter of a grizzled old war veteran and swordsman blacksmith.
The age difference between Kinta and the lieutenant was relatively miniscule; about two years. He was practically the godfather to his daughter, Kyoko.
He remembered her running towards him whenever he visited her all the way to Shinshu. He watched her grow up from a little girl to a fine young lady.
He swore to always treasure her, hoping to not make the same mistakes his own uncles did with him.
Hell, even Kinta knew better than to try the patience of the Sakaguchi Family's Grand Patriarch, Genzo Sakaguchi.
Like Sho would say, the policeman had bigger balls then you'd think. Not bad from a man who had a cockfight gambler for a father.
However, Kinta could've sworn that Nonoko, Satoru's wife, would've ended up with that other suitor of hers. The lean and dangerous one with a criminal past. The "bad boy".
Now that cocky son of a gun wasn't afraid of Old Man Sakaguchi at all. Arrogant to a fault, though. With a punchable face.
What was his name again?
Minakata felt a presence behind him, followed by the creak of... a rope against wood? Did he hear that correctly?
Anyway, it was about time the ninjas got back. What took them so long?
He turned in time to realize that the spy he was supposed to meet up with to discuss the latest documents they'd procured was hanging upside down, his body black and blue with a splash of red.
Kinta flashbacked to when he last saw a person in such a position. This was Tsurushi (Reverse Hanging) technique done to the Hidden Christians of Japan.
Tsurushi was torture wherein the feet were hung with rope, one of the hands were held tight with another rope, but another would be left hanging freely, so that a sign of recantation could be made by the tortured.
He wished he didn't know about Tsurushi at all, to be honest.
He didn't need to check for a heartbeat. He realized the unmoving ninja before him was dead. For quite some time, in fact.
He uttered a silent (Buddhist) prayer to the deceased. Contrary to rumors, he didn't convert to Christianity when he became part of Amakusa's "cult".
He backed away after sensing ropes from the ceiling tied to hooks and blades shoot out of the blue, with enough force to puncture the thick floorboards.
Remembering his exploits during the Bakumatsu and how bakufu forces coordinated with the Oniwaban Group when it came to suppressing the Ishin Shishi rebels and their collection of bloodthirsty hitokiri, Kinta unsheathed his sword, jumped up on the table, and then did a leaping stab at the area where the ropes originated.
He knew every trick in the shinobi book and dark arts. However, he still missed his intended target, his assailant escaping from his sword stab.
"Ah. As expected of the Mimawarigumi Battousai," said a muffled voice from inside the ceiling. "Or is it the Kagemusha of Amakusa Shogo? Wait, you have at least one other annoying codename... right, Minakata Kinta?"
Like some sort of humanoid bug or serpent, a man in dark, skin-tight clothing and a face mask with goggles on it crawled out of the crawlspace between the ceiling and the roof, his slender body slithering right through the small, cramped area like some sort of circus contortionist.
"Who are you?" probed Kinta.
The goggled shinobi chuckled while hiding behind the upside-down corpse he strung up like a macabre piata. "Ohohoho. I know all your different names yet you don't know mine. That hurts my feelings, you sanctimonious brat. Fine. Let me... introduce myself."
"..." Minakata "said" before he dodged a roped arrowhead to his head.
Piston-shot grappling hooks blasted out by the power of the stranger's compressed gas cylinders.
This forced Kinta to fall into his front-facing Waxing Stance so that his sharp eyes could spot every last rope coming at him.
A second later, amidst the web of cords, the table Minakata jumped on earlier was upturned.
"I am Hidaka Kai of the Fuuma Clan, representing the Brigands Guild! Show me what you've got, oh great iaijutsu master!"
To Be Continued...
Kaneda Minakata: TETSUOOO!
Tetsuo Akahori: KANEEDAA!
There's your "Akira" (1988) reference for today. From two in-laws, no less. On a related note, I almost named Azuma Minakata "Akira" as well, but then remembered Tomoe Yukishiro's childhood friend and fianc is already named Akira Kiyosato, so I avoided doing so because it'd sound redundant.
Also, in boxing terms, Hitokiri Gensai was the Aaron Pryor to the Hitokiri Battousai's more (in)famous Sugar Ray Leonard. An Aaron Pryor with Kinta as his Alexis Arguello.
Salamat,
Abdiel