Realistic or Modern United at Last

[Meehrwillow]

...a collaborative story. yoikes

As fire I rise
Though my bed was warm and snug
I had one grievance.

. . .

​

It was the first time that the Moon had broken such a crimson colour. The sound of alarm bells ringing hectically; the airless inferno swallowing up an entire forest; and that terrible laughter which haunted every defender until their last wearisome breath. None of the them were prepared for the trickery which took place that night—none could predict such an unheard-of assault—and so they fell one by one to the blade of the Disinherited Madman. In the span of a mere few hours, the sacred Toyosatomimi-ji stood no longer, blown away by the dry summer winds as nothing more than a mound of embers and ash. Its treasures ravaged by the encroaching army, its status and sanctity desecrated carelessly, this sacking symbolised an outrageous insult to the entire Watamashi clan, exacerbated by its orchestration by the family's renounced and humiliated heir. Commanding a force less than fifty soldiers strong, aided by the sickles of three-times-as-many peasants, the defeat was a result of top-notch execution and a non-conventional plan, as attested to by the smatter of survivors who had managed to escape. Indeed, through the use of deception and exploitation of the very nature surrounding the temple, the attacking force barely had to fight at all. Those who didn't burn to death were squashed under an avalanche of heavy logs, and the few who managed to hold their footing in the chaos were soon massacred by a general described as so vile as to make the stomach churn. Like a nightmare that feels uncomfortably real, those who remember do so in disjointed ramblings and half-recalled impressions; enough so for even a story as recent as this to become muddled and exaggerated. However, one fact remains uncontested; Toyosatomimi-ji stands no more.

. . .​

"Fuhahahaha! Come here, come closer—drink!" An imposing woman wrapped her arm around a soldier, squeezing him tightly against her side and pressing a sakazuki as wide as her shoulders against his lips. Laughing the entire time throughout, she tilted the cup gently and watched as the man swallowed its contents in several large gulps, his face growing more flushed with each contraction of his throat. Once the sakazuki was empty and the woman sufficiently satisfied, she let go of her infantryman and allowed him to sit undisturbed, turning to face the entire entourage which had assembled. Crowding together in a large tent, the throng of hardened warriors, veteran archers and first-scarred peasants all huddled around a simple-looking table; stuffing their mouths with porridge and drinking away at entire rivers of sake; celebrating their victory. Even outside the moon-lit tent, huzzahs could be heard far and wide, dozens upon dozens of drunken revelers singing songs and playing rustic instruments. This atmosphere of triumph had been lasting for several days, though none of the men had grown exhausted or tired. For good reason, they wished to celebrate until they could no more.

Downing another oversized sakazuki, the woman slammed her fist against the table and wildly exhaled, her messy hair flowing over and hiding her face from the rest of her companions. In spite of the celebrations having lasted over the course of several days, this was the first time she—as the commander—had given in to the festive mood. Indulging herself on the finest liqour her men could scramble to find, Akatarō could barely keep her head still anymore. She awkwardly weaved her eyes from place to place, calling the shots and humouring the attendees with stories of her house arrest under the orders of her father. Unquestionably hammered as she was, she still had an agenda for the evening in mind, namely making the decision of where to strike while the rest of her clan was still busy; scrambling over Toyosatomimi-ji.

"We should strike at... We should strike... Agh! We should strike at Sohen-jō!" One of the men suggested after due deliberation, slurring his words heavily through his teeth. "That castle's the worst defended all around... Even a particularly determined deer could take it." He mounted his forehead on his fist, propped up against the table. Before any feedback or elaboration could be given, the strength keep lifting his mug had already left him, and he snoozed away—face-first into the wood.

"Bah, nonshenshe!" Another chimed in. "Any garrishon there would be left completely open! It'sh shurrounded by fortsh on all shidesh, think for a... Guh." He had noticed the absence of consciousness in his intellectual rival, stopping instead to gawk at Akatarō for a good while. Making up his uncooperative head on what to say, he raised his cup for a refill before erupting into a questionable speech. "Phooowh! Y'know, Aka-dono, with you I wouldn't fear shieging Hell itshelf—or the Heavensh! Fuheheh... When you firsht came to ush for ashisshtance, we honeshtly thought you were ash inshane ash they shay, but fighting shide-to-shide with an onna-musha like you ish sho much better than the shtoriesh would have you believe. Akahide would've never let ush get sho washted with him, the shnob! Fuheh, but you undershtand the warrior'sh shpirit, showed ush ash much when you humiliated the gokenin at hish home turf! Aphoo! That guy wash actually pretty lucky I shay! Huzzah for the Laughing Oni!"

"Fuhahaha! I still can't believe they're calling me that! Laughing Oni of Yamazaka, huh? What a nice ring it has!" Akatarō shouted over her soldiers, who were busy pelting her with praise and applause. Even more than the sake, she was drunk on the sensation of being revered, but knew to stop the cacophony just before it had a chance to devolve into an unsalvageable circus. Standing up, she brushed away the untamed strands of hair covering her face, addressing her troupe with a large grin plastered over her cheeks. "Rest up well today, men! We're setting out to Yuuzui-jō by break of dawn! They'll probably expect our next move to be an attack on castle Sohen or Momogai in the north, so let's surprise them by heading east instead. With both of Tomonaga's swords at my hip, new followers will be joining us as we march. By the time we arrive, our army should be more than enough to siege a family holiday spot! Fuhaha! Did you know there's sulphur growing in those waters? Learning from Toyosatomimi-ji, that's a far more valuable resource than gold."

 

[yoikes]

After the messenger finished his report, silence filled the room. Tales of fire raining down from heaven, of a booming demonic laughter, and the most mad of all: the sacred Toyosatomimi-ji is no more. It has been burnt to ashes, its ground soaked red in the blood of butchered guards, the twin swords of Monowara no Tomonaga nowhere to be found.

Were it told by anyone else, Kuroyama Tadashi would dismiss it as some wild rumors, it won't be the first heard something crazy like that. But it was the official royal messenger, hustled in with such hurry that he's still wearing his straw cape, emphasizing the urgency of the message.

For a moment, no one knew how to react. It would be easier if it was not an invasion, but instead it was something that springs from the inside, a kin to a disaster. But then Kibe Noboru broke into a laughter, and after a while, the other samurai in the room followed suit one by one. Tadashi could see the messenger turning pale, clearly confused by the situation, or perhaps just wanting to be excused so he could finally rest.

"What a ridiculous event!" Noboru said with a hint of amusement in his voice, his chubby cheek blushing red from the laughter. "I'm sure it'll be a headache for the northerners... But that'll win them more recognition from Lord Watamashi."

Ah, there it is, a bit of jealousy. Their region has a few peasants rebellions on their own, but not involving anyone who had the galls to raid Toyosatomimi-ji and steal the blades. Tadashi guessed that in his little mind, Noboru might be wishing that he could send an army to "help", and find the blades before anyone else could.

"You may go." Noboru shoohed the messenger. "Tell Lord Watamashi that Kei are always ready to send reinforcements, if required."

The messenger bow deeply, and quickly made his exit. The cheery (and awkward) feeling brought by the laughter has gone, replaced by an air of anxiousness, though Tadashi could guess what. The swords are gone, along with Toyosatomimi-ji. It's unheard of, or rather, no one could have foreseen this. The young Kuroyama heir glanced at his father, seated at a position much further up front befitting of his position, to gauge his reactions. Kuroyama Katsuro maintained a neutral expression, his eyes scanning the room for the same reason as his, but Tadashi could've sworn seeing a glint of cunning from his eyes.

If it is important, he will know about it soon, as soon as his father needs his help to play a part in the machinations of his plan. Tadashi knew it all too well. "We are all pieces of a bigger game," his father always say. "It's important to know when and where to move the pieces to win, including ourselves."

Such a wise quote, dear father.

The matter of Toyosatomimi-ji, the demon, and the shrine was soon set aside and replaced with talk of tax, merchants, and what not. A more immediate issues concerning their domain, compared to a peasant rebellion up north, this concerns their wealth and power directly. Once done, they were all dismissed, but before Tadashi left he caught his father whispering something toward Noboru, who seemed interested.

His father caught him staring, and gave him a curt nod. Tadashi nodded back and left. That was his usual, "This does not concern you... yet" response.

 

[Meehrwillow]

In Akatarō's camp, the cheers and rancour of celebration eventually gave in to the stillness of night. Her men either passed out or passed out on nightwatch duty, the only sound left emanating from the hidden forest encampment was the collective snoring of the Watamashi traitors. In their dreams, they frolicked on rich green pastures, brimming with maidens like flowers. Their weightless bodies passed from one pleasure to another, lost in the enchantments of promises made by them to themselves. Glory, fame, profit, all dreamed of the reward they would reap at the end of their journey; all except Akatarō. Though normally her nights went dreamless, she saw in her drunken mind the blooming petals of the Sāla flowers and heard the distant tolling of ancient, brass bells. Alone, she stood beneath a Moon so redly bathed, that the Sun of dawn paled in contrast and appeared as nothing but a cold, tiny speck. She drew in a hearty breath, and noticed that where she breathed, there were mirrored bones and the blossoms of the higanbana in the mist. Calmly, she chuckled.

"If this is the impermanence that lurks at the end of my fate, then my eyes are so blind as to find it an ambition worth striving for. Fufufu... Fuhahahaha!" Such were the thoughts running through her head, though she paid them no heed as she basked in the imaginary sight. Like always, she merely laughed at the notion, gazing at her intoxicated vision until the morning Sun carried her to the land of the waking butterflies.

The next morning, Akatarō's small retinue of soldiers and peasants disposed of their camp and set out on their march. Already, they had begun setting another play of trickery into motion, with twelve warriors at the force's helm having been dressed into the uniforms of the guards slaughtered at Toyosatomimi-ji. By their side walked the commander herself, her form unrecognizable in an outfit ironically befitting of a northern shrine maiden. She strolled comfortably along with her frontmen, the light, crimson hakama fluttering around her legs in the mountain breeze. Her formerly elaborate and wild hair had been styled into a ponytail, and it flailed behind her head together with a ceremonial ribbon. Of course, any holiness in her appearance was quickly betrayed by her towering stature and demon-like grin. Without turning back, she raised her arm into the air and diverted it to point at a nearby splitting path, to which the main contingent of her force responded to by shifting course.

"Phew, hope everyone's head isn't as shattered as mine! Fuhaha, I suppose bandits are as good a hangover cure as any." Akatarō smirked at her companions, still considering the nicks of her new plan as they threaded the winding valley. "This path will take us to Yuuzui-jō in a few days' time, be ready to wait up for the rest overnight." She stretched her shoulders as she spoke, cracking her neck. "But now's the real kicker of the plan, boys! To put up a convincing performance, we'll totally have to run a few gauntlets before we head for the gates. It's a great chance to take out your frustrations at whoever ratted you out for sleeping on duty, but we also gotta be capable of lifting a sword and using it! What I mean is: at least pretend to pull your punches." The disinherited lord scanned her subjects for reactions, a look of bemusement on her face. Reasonably, none of them were too happy about only hearing this now.

"Aka-dono, I totally get it. With how small our force is, we can't afford to raise any suspicion whatsoever, but... We could've done this when we were still drunk at camp, that way the wounds wouldn't seem asynchronistic and we wouldn't feel it." The man right next to her protested, not daring to look into her eyes. He still wasn't used to having the freedom to raise his voice freely, let alone to how Akatarō would burst into laughter with joy and crush them against her side as she did. On one hand, the change from uptight to overwhelmingly friendly felt undeniably cathartic. On the other, it was so unprecedented for samurai that it almost made them feel like bandits. As expected, their boss almost immediately started cackling.

"Fuhahaha! You're totally right!" She smacked her palm against her forehead, laughing all the while. "It can't be helped, we'll just have to do it now!"

Thus, from the valley emerged a sorry sight. Twelve samurai and a single miko—all bruised and bleeding—limped past tiny villages and shrines. At the hips of the shrine maiden, two precious swords swayed from side to side.

 

[yoikes]

The distressed man has come to their estate in discreet, taking the chances of annoying the Kuroyamas rather than facing whatever wrath and punishment he might somewhere else, enough to intrude them before dinner. He dropped down onto the ground when Tadashi came out with his father, his face practically kissing the ground below him. "My greatest apology for bothering in such a late hour!" He said loudly, although shakily, clearly afraid. "But I am at my wit's end already!"

"Are you not Tono? From the Red Kettle Inn." Katsuro said, and now Tadashi recognized who he was too. The old man owns some of the biggest entertainment establishments in the domain, frequented by many high-ranking samurai, and sometimes even supply the necessary entertainment for events at the castle. But those are clearly not what he was here for, and so his father continues, "Is there is something of the matter at the port? Why are you here?"

"Shigeru-dono and Masashi-dono are... they are..." Tono seemed unsure, though Tadashi already has a guess what it is about at the mention of their names, then continued. "They've been staying in one of my inns for a whole day already and drank most of our sake already... They become violent when I try to escort them away and beat some of my men... All the other samurai are too afraid to do anything, and the people are getting scared... I figure that perhaps Kuroyama-dono can help me with this matter again... "

Ah... No wonder they were nowhere to be seen this morning when they all gathered to hear the daimyo's messenger. Should've guessed it, as it won't be the first time they overspend their time at such an establishment. His father looked displeased for a moment, a very short moment, and his expression then returned to his usual stern look. "I see. Then my son will go with you to take them back to the castle. You can send me the bill to me and I'll take care of it." Katsuro said, as he motions at the guards of the estate, ready at the slightest wave of his hand. "Take a few men with you, just in case."

"Oh! My greatest thanks, Kuroyama-dono! Then if I may so offer, please come with me!" Tono deepens his bow once and then raised his face as he stood back up, beaming with relief although clearly dirty from dirt. Tadashi politely bowed and greeted his father farewell, before leaving out a small group of six of their men to come with him, making haste by riding their horses toward the port area. It's an area that is always constantly crowded with people of all sorts of different backgrounds, whether they are sailors, merchants, travelers, or something else. However, Tadashi always thought that its true self comes out at night, and at this time of the hour, it already starts waking up. As the sun slowly disappears, its light has been replaced the hundreds of candles lit inside and the lantern hung outside.

A much livelier crowd usually would already start gathering at this hour, but Tadashi could feel that the atmosphere is a bit muted than usual. The people on the street step aside to make way for their group, their eyes watch them carefully, murmuring to one another while all pointing toward a direction: the Red Kettle Inn, which was known, and named so, because of the reddish color of their kettle. A large group of people already gathered by the entrance, drawn by the ruckus happening from the inside, with people occasionally running out for safety.

"Make way! Make a way of Kuroyama Tadashi!" One of his men shouted, and the crowd quickly moved for them. Several servants, some of them bruised or bleeding, quickly came to attend to their horses. Tono wasted no time in leading them in, the large first floor already devoid of guests, while the voices came from the second floor. Tono led them to the furthest room at the back, one that Tadashi knows very well is reserved for people of important rank or wealth, past the "entertainers" who looked relieved of their presence. The drunken ruckus is getting louder, with the unmistakable laugh of Shigeru and Masashi.

"Step back, let me handle this," Tadashi told Tono, and shoo him away. While he has done this babysitting job many times already, he likes to take caution when it comes to collateral damage, as if they need to anger the merchants and peasants even more. Tono only nods and move away, taking his "entertainers" with him to safety. When the coast is clear, Tadashi signed to his men, who slide open the door for his entrance to again take care of the mess caused by the two sons of Kibe.

 

[Meehrwillow]

After a long and tedious trek, the small party of twelve finally arrived at their destination. Thoroughly exhausted from their travels, their presence was masked from the castle up ahead only by the turning of the pass in front of them. Surrounded by dark stone and swallowed up by its shadow, they slumped into the dewy grass, their tiredness winning over their reluctance to lounge in wet dirt like vagabonds or mountain-monks. In their own absurd way, they undeniably were a breed of rebellious vagrant, but such notions were to be laughed off before they took hold of the spirit and damaged it. Light had already grown dim before they settled down, with the Sun no longer visible above the mossy walls of the valley. A midsummer wind occasionally brushed up against their skin, but otherwise the eve had lain completely still. Having no idea how long the main force would take to arrive, one of the disguised samurai pulled out a half-empty—or half-full as our heroes would have it—bottle of sake and let it make rounds among his peers, to stave off exhaustion and help prepare the mind.

"Our folks will send a brief smoke signal when they're ready, so someone keep an eye out for the western path," Akatarō commanded as she gulped down a swig of the alcohol, handing the flask to the soldier sitting next to her. "Obviously," she demonstratively patted the swords at her sides, "I can't have these on me when we're setting out for the castle, so I'll have two of you hold them for me!" Undoing the blades from their ornate sheaths, she slid them across the ground towards a duo of her men. "Don't scratch them, I hear they're real important to dad and his friends! Well, if you do, they might even look more authentic, don't you think?" The woman giggled, teasing her retinue fully aware of her childishness. The chosen samurai both shrugged and secured the swords at their hips, one of them deciding to speak his mind about the task ahead.

"So, Aka-dono. Yuuzui-jō does have very light defences—it's not a strategic or politically important target—but surely there's gonna be a nightwatch in place. There's no doubt that we can take out a few rookies just fine, but can we really afford the risk of alarm-bells being rung and the administration escaping? The sooner the news of a take-over spreads, the sooner will our enemies besiege the defences we have the time to set up. This wouldn't be a problem if the castle only had one escape route, but... Yuuzui-jō specifically offers all sorts of them from what I've heard."

"The lot of you are perceptive," their leader responded, nodding to herself before looking over at the mountainside. After a brief pause for dramatic effect, she continued speaking while drawing the attention of her companions to the nearby flora. "There's no need to worry about such trivial things. I spent a bunch of time here a few years ago, and ever since then I know of the ritual that will lead these poor bastards to their deaths tonight. It's very lax around these parts, nobody expects anything to happen; and it hasn't for decades. Because of that, the men here always enjoy a round of bonding before their service, where they eat and drink together. As you can see, yew trees grow all around this valley where the shade treats them best." She smirked, turning her gaze to where the recently emptied bottle of sake resided and the man holding it. "Fill the bottle with their sap, I'll take care of the rest in due time."

The samurai nodded, rising from the muddy ground and making his way to the nearest yew. As he did, another joined the conversation, his exhausted eyes fidgety with anxiety. He was the youngest among them, endowed with a thin peach fuzz and green to the brutal reality of the struggle for power. He had betrayed his lord because of familial grievances, and because Akatarō reminded him of a sibling he had lost.

"When... When we claim the castle as our own, what comes next, aft—after that?" He stuttered, looking to his lord without making eye-contact. "Surely the local samurai will start taking us way more seriously once we usurp an actual holding, and... and they'll send for a siege. Even if more reinforcements are on the way, our army will still be an army of peasants!" His leg bounced up and down nervously, the boy wincing every time its bruises accidentally met the elbow he held over it. "We have no supply chains at all, Aka-dono. If they hit us before we're ready, we'll have to evacuate and risk getting ran down by cavalry."

As expected, Akatarō burst into laughter at his remarks, though the tone of it was surprisingly soft and understanding. She answered him collectedly, leaning over to pat him on the shoulder. "Don't you be afraid, Kiyoshi! Our volunteers will be hauling a lot of their own reserve, besides! There is a man I know who feels a lot of enmity towards the daimyōs and their lapdogs, very well equipped at that. If I just make him think that there's the slightest chance I'll dutifully serve his interests, he's sure to lend us a few good men and horses. Shame he's so unlikable, otherwise I would've even considered a real alliance, fuhahaha! The path ahead of us is seriously harsh, I can't deny that. We'll have to fight, siege and fight again, until everyone's so weary of us that they have no choice but to agree to a truce. They have their own problems, can't waste all of their energy on a stubborn brat! Fuhahahaha! That's when we really get them, of course!"

Kiyoshi snorted, the audacity of his commander being borderline comical. Just as he was about to humour her with a similarly spirited reply, the man sent to fetch the tree sap suprised him by running up and tapping on his back, pointing into the distance behind them. With a sigh of relief, the party looked on as a black pillar of smoke wafted away from behind the western slopes, rising steadily against a backdrop of sundown red. Within seconds of being spotted, the dark column faded as it was consumed by the brilliant sky, but by then the group had already gotten up and started approaching the gates of Yuuzui-jō. Looming over them, the compound took the form of several white walls, securing a series of rising hillocks and stone-built slopes, which all followed a path of decorative wooden bridges all the way to a central keep. Beneath these cutely carven bridges, milky-white pools of sulfuric water calmly released wisps of steam, carrying upon their shoulders the unmistakable smell of rotting eggs. The sturdy keep overlooking the scenery was a traditional one built of painted wood, its sloped overhangs decorated with colours deeply green and gleaming gold. At the entry point, a large gate sat in front of a stone bridge leading up to the compound, guarded by two heavily armoured samurai.

"Stop right there!" One of them called out as soon as he spotted the group, slamming the butt of his naginata against the ground. "You've entered the officially granted territory of Lord Akachi of the Watamashi-uji, as clearly armed combatants, state your business before..." His speech trailed off, squinting his eyes to make out the proper shape of the unexpected visitors in the slowly expanding darkness. Hesitantly, he placed his hand upon his chin as the realisation dawned on him. "You're samurai from the sacred temple..? You certainly look the part, that's for sure." He waved his hand at the other gate guard, barking a direct order at him. "Go fetch the steward, our heads will go flying if we hesitate on this!"

"That's harsh," Akatarō chuckled under her breath, patting off the pieces of grass sticking to her disguise. Cautiously, she approached the remaining guard and offered a deep bow, a gesture which went considerably against her skin. "We're terribly sorry to trouble you at such a late hour. Me and my companions were keepers at Toyosatomimi-ji, and we've marched a long and tiresome distance to your castle. We were spared the initial massacre because we happened to be fetching supplies, only to be met with that horrible sight upon return. Before we could recover from the shock, a large group of bandits ambushed and robbed us, so we had no other choice than to head to the nearest Watamashi host. As such, we humbly ask that you take care of us for the time being." The Laughing Oni surprisingly graced her audience with a convincing performance, though she seemed to hiss a few words right through her teeth every now and then. Nothing that couldn't be attributed to a miko's pride.

"Tsch, to think such barbarians exist who would raze a place of sanctity, let alone pounce on the opportunity to steal from a holy maiden and her mournful retinue. This world is full of animals," the samurai cursed. After a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries and pity, the keep's seneschal interrupted their dialogue and rushed the battered "defenders" inside, almost immediately housing them within an unoccupied lodge. He and Akatarō conversed for a while, a farce of condolences, small talk and mutual lies. Nothing interesting seemed to escape his lips, though the steward accidentally slipped up on an intriguing tidbit near the very end of his tirade. 'Trying to find the master's young daughter has left the castle an unsightly mess,' he said, instantly blushing and trying to cover up saying what he shouldn't have. A smile crept over the miko's cheeks; if she was causing trouble again, they'd have to be careful tonight.

After the seneschal had departed for his quarters, Akatarō briefed her retinue one last time. Their instructions were plain and simple; wait for three fast knocks on the door, take off your sandals and kill everyone without letting them wake. As she had predicted, the soldiers placed on night duty had already began drinking, and so she spoke a few last words of encouragement before setting out to offer the warriors a brew of her own. For the first time in her, she had valued having always been hidden behind sudare screens, or perhaps the irony that now it was serving to make her grand reveal. Regardless, she approached the small barracks from which light and noise were still emanating, knocking on the door politely. Notably less politely, she barged in before anyone had the chance to respond, greeting the soldiers with a tilt of the head instead of a bow. Young men of their post always had a tsujigiri causing ego about them, but perhaps the sheer audacity mixed with the woman's appearance had left them more bewildered than insulted.

"Sorry for the intrustion!" She shouted unapologetically. "I wanted to thank you personally for tonight's shelter, excuse me if it's a bit unexpected. You see, us shrine maidens are taught never to take without giving back—how about a drink consecrated by the mountain gods?" Before she could even present them with her bottle of poison, all the men had already erupted into a rancour. They couldn't believe their eyes, growing wild with bemusement, confusion and a kind of endearment for the weird miko and her antics. In the same way that drunkards would not hesitate to accept a drink from a finely dressed macaque, they all agreed; and thus they sealed their fate. Mixing the sap with the available alcohol under the guise of a special herbal blend, none of the night watchers would leave their barracks alive. Twitching, covered in vomit and clutching their chests, their bodies littered the floor like cherry blossoms in April.

Soon after that followed the rest of the slaughter. Delivering the promised signal, Akatarō let her men disperse and take care of their business. Unarmed soldiers, servants, stewards, visiting family, all indiscriminately murdered in their sleep. Such was the necessity of war, the only mercy offered being the assassin's need for efficiency and thus an instant death. With quick jabs through the spine and the jugular, the assassins cleared one building after another, until even the tenshu had turned into a grave. Bloodied and tired, they lit a signal fire, letting the rest of their force deal with the corpses. After confirming that her cousin wasn't caught in the crossfire, the Demon of Yamazaka retired to the stables and threw her body against the bedding, letting the night pass by once again in sleep.

 

[yoikes]

Tadashi is no stranger to the Kibe brothers' fondness of debauchery, but he thought that they went overboard with this one. Shigeru, the heir to Kibe clan, is seated at the far end of the room. Despite his high status, his appearance is rough and unkempt, his toned hands wrapped around a wakashu in intimate ways. His look, compared with his personality, would make give an outsider the impression that he must be a bandit leader instead. On the other hand, the younger brother, Masashi suited the image of a spoiled child more. Seated close to his bother is his round face and chubby cheek that reminds everyone of his father blushes red from sake, clearly drunk. Despite so, the two ladies beside him continue to pour more and more sake, which he drank and drank. The rest of their retinues are enjoying the same, if not lying asleep on the floor half-naked or full-on naked.

It took them a while for them to notice who has come, and Shigeru frowned at the sight of Tadashi. "The Kuroyama boy," Shigeru said, his speech slurred. He took a drink of his sakazuki, before throwing it at Tadashi, though the item fell in the middle and hit one of his sleeping retinues instead. "Have you come to ruin this again for us?"

"Fetch some more soldiers and carriage to bring them home," Tadashi ordered one of his men, who quickly left. Once that was done, Tadashi seated himself on the floor, politely bowing toward the two brothers. "Humblest apologies, Shigeru-dono, Masashi-dono. The proprietor is worried, and asked for help--"

"We are just having fun!" Masashi snorted. "You know how things get when sake and entertainment mix together."

"And yet too many are not good. The proprietor is simply concerned about Shigeru-dono and Masashi-dono's well-being." Tadashi bowed again. "A crowd has gathered by the front entrance, the people are worried--"

"Why is everyone so worried about what we do? Did our father even look for us this morning?" Shigeru roared with laughter, his voice so loud Tadashi was sure it will spook the crowd outside. He unsteadily stood up, and with a woozy look glared at him, and hissed, "You Kuroyama must be insane to think you can control us, Kibe, in every aspect of our lives. Wait until my father hears of this."

"Humblest apologies if this servant offends." Tadashi bowed again, hiding his insincerity by bowing deeply that his head touches the tatami floor, he has done this so many times he think he perfected it already. He does not fear his threat, for Shigeru and Masashi has done it many times, and always too drunk to remember. But, Tadashi does know that the threat exists. He is not stupid, and neither does his father, but that is a worry to think about some other time. Right now, he needs to bring home the Kibe brothers'. Luckily, the man he ordered has returned with more soldiers, who Tadashi quickly ordered to enter and forcefully remove the retinues. His own men, who has done this many times with him, manhandled Shigeru and Masashi the best they could into the carriage below.

Before leaving, Tadashi scanned the room once more, his headache from all the visible damage and stain. As usual, the Kuroyama will need to handle the payment, and this time it looks like it to be one of their biggest ones yet. Actually, Tadashi doesn't even know if his father ever asked Noboru to pay him back. Probably no. That would just embarrass the Kibe more.

Tadashi escorted the carriage carrying the two brothers' all the way to the castle, passing through the many gates until they arrived at the honmaru. Servants flocked out of the keep, taking the brothers inside. But before Tadashi could take his leave, another servant hurriedly approached with a small box. "A gift from Kibe Harumi," the servant said, in a low whisper, just loud enough for the two to hear. "A thank you for bringing her brothers home safely."

A small smile forms on Tadashi's face for the first time of the day. He thanked the servant, gently taking the box onto his arms, before looking up high above the castle tower. From all the lit lamps with, which window she is watching him from? While he failed to find her, Tadashi is sure that she sees him. Satisfied, he left back home, hiding her box underneath his kimono to avoid his father's detection. He trusts that his men will keep quiet. He surprised himself with how he managed to keep it cool throughout dinner, maintaining a neutral expression on his face as he described the day (and leaving off the detail with Harumi).

It is only when he is alone inside his room did Tadashi allows himself to let loose, eagerly fishing out the box out of its hidden place and opening it carefully. Inside, there were two pieces of beautiful nerikiri, pink in color and shaped like a flower. Sneaked inside alongside the beautiful wagashi was a small piece of paper, in it contains yet another one of Harumi's well-written poems, this one of the views of the sunset and the changing from day to night. As Tadashi ponders the meaning of the poem, he slowly enjoyed the nerikiri that has been given to him, the bean paste somehow tastes a bit sweeter than usual.