lambenttyto

Chapter VIII—A Slice of the Traveling Life

While she walked back to camp, Hans glanced about, watching the survivors of the shipwreck with bored disinterest. Surely he could leave these people now, but then that would mean trudging through the wet forest looking for Rōkura-san.

How ungainly that would be. No, Hans would wait for her right here, atop the cask he was using as a chair. The day was clearing up, though plenty of grey clouds still obscured the sun.

He sighed heavily as the survivors shouted off to one another. Some of them were in the water collecting things from the wreck. One fool actually found his very own clothing chest. Some more rubbed sticks together to make a fire, and was failing while he was told from over his shoulder how it was to be done. They’re too wet, you ignorant villagers.

And where had that man with the crystal gone? He stood, asked around. “Hunting,” he was told. Really? Hmmm. Perhaps I should endeavor to bring something back for Rōkura. She’s bound to be famished after last night.

With a smile he stalked toward the trees and quested out with his aura, searching for life in the morass that was the forest. It was quite hilly and tiresome looking, but Hans sensed something off in the hills.

He moved through the trees and across paths cut by wildlife. It was a game trail—that much he knew. When he crested the ridge of a hill, something moved about in the brush, snorting and searching the grass.

“A wild pig,” he said to himself. “I wonder if there are very many of these out here?” No matter, he lunged toward the animal, which had no idea it was about to be killed.

At the last instant the tusk-faced animal turned and shrieked, and that’s when Hans put his gloved hands around its neck and yanked. There was a crack and popop, and the wild pig was dead.

The small man sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the beast. With a heavy sigh, he picked it up and carried it back to the sandy beach and the shipwreck. From there, he dunked the dead creature in the water to wash it off.

All of the survivors cried out and laughed with delight when they realized their bellies would be filled. But he would guard out a sizable portion for Rōkura. “Hello?” Hans called to the survivors watching him. “Does anyone have a knife?”

As he butchered the beast, he—not to put a pun on it—cooked up a believable story for the oni for when she got back. He needed a story for why he hadn’t helped her with the survivors, and then later the beast.

“Hmm,” he mused.

“Hey, Mister,” a kid said, tugging at his arm.

“Eh? What is it, boy?”

“Are you going to cut that pig open?”

“Why, yes I am.”

“Will there be a lot of blood?”

“Yes.”

His smile brightened and Hans sniffed. You have a future, kid. And then the boy was called away by his worried mother who didn’t want him to see blood.

Rōkura walked through the trees as her stomach rumbled furiously. She was starving, and for some reason when she was in her Oni Rage state last night, she hadn’t eating the bored—she had destroyed it. I have an anger problem.

That thought might have been funny at once time, but her Oni Rage state was dangerous. It was all she could do not to go to the wreck and slaughter all those people. But she had managed to force herself into the forest where she had killed a beast rather than people.

Still surprised at what she had done, Rōkura wondered if her Rage State was changing. How had she managed to stay lucid the whole time? If I can even call it “being lucid”! It was a like a fever dream, one she remembered in its entirety.

She rubbed her hands together, bent down and wiped them on the wet grass again. The blood wasn’t completely gone and it left a sticky clinging feeling on her skin that she hated.

Rōkura tried to rub it off.

When she managed to make it over the hills where she could hear the sound of the crashing waves and the birds, she increased the speed of her gait, then broke into a trot. She sniffed.

She sniffed some more.

Rōkura could smell the cooking meat, even from the distance. Her mouth watered as she crossed through the trees and onto the crusty sand that had partially dried.

At the fire sat Hans and a group of people. They were using wreckage, casks, crates and rocks for chairs. Turning, Hans glanced up at her like he knew she was coming. Of course he did.

Then he stood and walked to her. Rōkura’s cheeks heated. She wanted to snarl and yell at him.

“Ah,” he said with a big smile. “You’ve returned, Oni-san.”

She wanted answers—and she wanted them now. “I’m starting to feel like I can’t trust you, Hans.”

“Mm?” he noised, cocking his head. “Why ever would you think such a thing?”

She brought her hand right hand to her left shoulder, then swung it toward Han’s face. There was a slap of palm on wrist as Hans caught her attempted backhand.

With a big smile, he said, “Now that’s not nice, Rōkura…”

“Hmph!” she sniffed, expecting him to catch the blow. Hans was fast, capable, and there was no way a slow backhand that might otherwise work on a low-level person would succeed on him.

“Am I interrupting something?” someone asked.

Rōkura glanced up as Hans turned to look over his shoulder. It was that man with the crystal—the one who had helped her with the survivors last night.

The man laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. Behind him, the survivors milled about the fire, cooking and eating the wild pig. They laughed and talked, and some of them watched with wide eyes from where they sat, but most of them weren’t even aware of Rōkura’s return.

Hans let go of her wrist and turned around. “No… Of course not.”

“Thank you for helping me last night,” Rōkura said with a nod. “Arigatou.”

The man chortled. “It was no problem. I’m glad I could help, that’s all. You did most of the work.”

“That you did,” said Hans.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Uh-oh…”

“Well,” the man said, “I’m Banjo. What are your names?” He looked at Rōkura, taking her in. He had seen others of the oni race before, but never had he made their acquaintance. Do I focus on her glowing eyes or… those horns?

“I’m Rōk”—her stomach growled furiously—“ura.”

Banjo laughed lightly. “Someone is hungry.”

Her cheeks flamed and Rōkura wanted to look at something else, but she forced herself not to. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s get you something to eat.” He turned toward the fire.

Rōkura nodded. “All right.”

“Your friend Hans went and caught this wild pig,” he said. “I tried my luck, but I’m no hunter.”

“You’re not  a lot of things,” Hans muttered under his breath as Rōkura turned and looked at him. “Really?”

“Yeah—he’s a great hunter.”

She regarded the little golden-haired man with surprise. He looked young, far longer than he let on. In fact, his appearance seemed even younger than Rōkura.

Hans shrugged. “I used to be an adventurer at one time in my life. What can I say.”

“Excuse me,” Banjo said, making way for them to enter the circle of people around the fire. “Everyone!” he announced, his arms spread. I better do something so they don’t panic at the way she looks.

“Mama look!” cried a boy as he pointed. “It’s a demon!”

Everyone turned and Rōkura’s eyes widened as someone gasped. She knew how this would go about. Frightful glances, whispers, and some of them would probably find a reason to excuse themselves from her company.

With a light laugh, Banjo said, “No—she’s not a demon at all. She’s an oni, and they come from another part of the world. She’s a foreigner—a gaijin—like me.”

Muttering abounded. Someone actually said “Hello,” as he nodded to her.

Hans watched Rōkura as she returned the gesture and said hello to the people. He smiled, like a parent smiled watching his children experience life. Well, they’re taking to you quite well, Oni-san.

“And this is her friend, Hans!”

Hans bowed politely. “Hans Bellefeuille, at your service.”

“Wow, he’s funny,” the boy said. “And he has a funny name, too!”

Banjo chuckled nervously.

“I assure you, young boy, you are about to see a great many people who are far funnier than myself, if the Capital is indeed your destination.” He moved toward the roasting pig and sliced off a huge portion from the haunch

“It is,” said Banjo. His voice was soft and musical and he had golden hair like Hans, though he was older and far taller. “The ship was headed for the Capital with no plans to make port on the way.”

“Really?” asked Rōkura. “Why?”

Hans continued his mission to get Rōkura some food while he listened to them speak. They had actually managed to find a cabinet of broken china floating in the water, but not all of it had been shattered and destroyed. In the bottom cupboards, wooden bowls had been discovered.

“Because of the war,” Banjo said.

“War?” asked Rōkura with surprise.

“You mean you don’t know about it?” he asked. “I suppose that makes sense, you’re a foreigner like me after all.”

She nodded. “Mm.”

For Rōkura, Hans chose one of the china plates, a white ceramic piece with blue flowers encircling around the rim with a gold filigree on the sides. He put the greasy and sizzling pig haunch atop it and stepped up to her.

She took the plate greedily, but tried not to act like a barbarian herself. With her mouth beginning to water, she realized she had no fork, so she picked the meat up and ripped a big piece off with her teeth.

“Is it good?” asked Hans.

Someone laughed, though her mirth was not malicious sounded. At least not to Rōkura chewed, nodding vigorously as she swallowed, then chewed off another tough piece of the meat. It was nice and salty, but where did Hans get the—

The sea water of course.

“Tell us more about this war,” asked Hans.

“It’s displaced a lot of people, and it’s been going on for some months now.”

“And what is the fighting all about?” asked Hans, his tone bored and yet amused all at once. They needed to find out more about this if it had any chance to play in impeding their progress.

“Oh—I’m probably the wrong person to ask,” Banjo said soothingly. “I’m sorry. I’m a foreigner myself.”

“Well, what about you people?” asked Hans. “Know anything about the war?”

Rōkura attacked her chunk of meat, listening all the while as the little boy stood next to her, eyeing her horns. She tried to pretend she didn’t see him while she stuffed her face, but when he reached out to touch her horns, she looked at him and he shrunk back.

“Kao—come back here!” his mother snapped. “Leave the… lady alone.

Smiling nervously, Rōkura tried to pretend a dozen eyes weren’t on her, all wondering about her, why she had horns like that, and why her skin was red-pink. To them she must have looked like what the boy had called her.

A demon.

She didn’t think she could eat anymore with this much attention on her, but then something did surprise her. The woman with the baby stood up and came to her. Rōkura blinked.

“I want to thank you for saving us all,” she said, a nervous smile on her face. “Especially our baby!” she added with an emotional laugh. “Our little Nobu.” When Rōkura tried to get a look at the baby, more in respect than anything else, the woman bent her legs and let her see him.

When she uncovered his little face, she saw his bright eyes. He was… smiling! The oni couldn’t help but smile back. She wanted to touch the baby, but… Rōkura didn’t want to make his mother feel uncomfortable, and because of that she felt a little crestfallen.

Breaking the little moment, her husband came around the fire and put an arm around his wife’s shouldered. He glanced at their sun, then looked at Rōkura in the eyes and smiled. “You saved us.” He put his hands together and bowed. “Arigatou gozaimasu!”

“It was nothing—“ she started saying, but she was cut off when the man jumped onto the ground and bowed.

“Please!” he said intensely.

“Gah!” Rōkura flinches, pulling her knee up as she hugged her plate, surprised and startled at the man’s sudden intensity.

“Please accept our most sincerest of thanks.” His head was pressed to the sand. “Without you, we would not have survived.”

“Uh…” Rōkura wheezed, an she saw tears in the wife’s eyes as she smiled down at her. A feeling of alarm came over Rōkura. She glanced toward Hans, and she caught him watching, a smile on his sly, yet boyish face. “It was… It was…” What am I supposed to say?! “It was my pleasure!” she yelped. Please get uuuup! “But Banjo helped too!”

“You did more than you think,” said Banjo said with a smile on his face. “Indeed, I helped, but without you and your friend Hans, I’m not sure any of us would have gotten out of the ship.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the wreckage, then looked at Rōkura. The man got off the ground, tears in his eyes. “We would like to show our thanks.”

“Hai!” his wife said.

“When we have our next child… if she’s a girl—we’re going to name her after you!”

“Whaaa—“

“How wonderful,” Hans cut in. “Her name is Rōkura and she would be honored if you named your future daughter after her. Wouldn’t you, Rōkura?”

“Um… I…” No—I don’t want that! It’s too much. Please—no! Argh! Hans! Rōkura tried to smile, but what came out was more of a grimace as she stood and clasped her hands together and bowed to the couple and their baby. “I would be deeply honored if you name your future daughter after me.”

The husband and wife cried happily and everyone cheered. The wide tuned to her husband. “Isn’t it wonderful, Shin? This turn of events must have been ordained by the kami!”

“Hai!” he said, nodding vigorously.

Banjo laughed along with everyone, while Rōkura tried t to feel the same way—tried to pretend she felt honored, and indeed, she did—she did!—but this was too much, and her meat. She wilted inside.

Hans listened to the merriment of the group as he stepped away. They needed to set out. They didn’t have time for campfire nonsense. We have people to kill and Ogai-wants results. Glancing back, he caught Rōkura looking at him. He put a smile on his face that wasn’t altogether forces and he waved toward her.

“Your wrong! We need to wait—they’re bound to send another ship for us.”

“Do you believe they can find us?”

“It’s the coast!”

“They won’t come…”

“And why not?”

“Have you forgotten there’s a war on?”

The survivors stood in a large circle, speaking and debating the matter of whether or not to leave the wreck site or to wait for help. Hans paid it no mind. Leave or stay, it mattered little to him.

He and Rōkura had somewhere to be—people to kill, revenge to attain, and Hans would see it through—no, Rōkura would see it through. Despite her proclamation that she wouldn’t be using her Oni Rage state anymore, he knew that to be untrue, had assured her and himself, that her silly fear over the matter was in fact, demonstrably untrue.

“Listen,” said Banjo with outstretched hands. “Everyone! Listen! We cannot wait here for help.”

“And why not?”

“Who made you in charge?”

“Please,” he persisted. “Hear me out.”

Hans wasn’t even present in the circle, though he heard Banjo try to pacify the commoners, he had no interesting in being a part of their little… hoedown. Now… where is Rōkura-san? He espied her sitting on a rock under some trees. She was slicing open coconuts with her katana. Very industries.

Thirsty, the oni cut another coconut in half. Her katana was so sharp, she could hold the coconut in her hand and swing it, slicing the top off while the bottom, like a cup, remained in her palm.

There were hundreds of the cocoanuts out here, and so she sliced them in half and set them up for anyone who wanted a drink. She turned to glance over her shoulder. But right now they were arguing about what to do.

With an admission to herself, Rōkura knew she didn’t want to stay here on the beach. She didn’t mind it. They had food—she looked at the coconuts—water, and… She smiled. Nice company.

She had been surprised by Shin and Aki. Their professions of thanks had alarmed her—had terrified the oni, but now after all that, everyone had warmed to her, and she almost received no more strange glares.

Almost.

“What are you doing, Oni-san?” asked Hans from behind.

Rōkura didn’t turn to look at him as she spoke. “I’m”—she cut the top of another cocoanut off—“cutting these cocoanuts in half so we can drink the milk.”

“Indeed,” he said. “What are you doing?” She doesn’t plan to play camp-out-on-the-shore with these people, I hope.

Setting the coconut down, she turned. To face him and narrowed her eyes. Something wasn’t right about last night. He didn’t help me—and then that thing attacked me. I still don’t know why I went into my Rage state. Rōkura would find out now. “Hans—why didn’t you help me with the survivors last night?”

“Eh?”

“Remember?”

“Right,” he said with a nod. He had come up with some suitable explanations for this event while he had skinning the wild pig. “You’re the one who is the agent of our lord Ogai, not I.” He spread his hands. “I’m just the supporter, Rōkura-san.”

“Fine,” she said, giving him that. “But as my supporter I expect you to ‘support’ me, Hans!”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you are quite right, and I wanted to, you must believe me.”

I don’t know if I believe you, Hans—not anymore.

“Rōkura-san,” he said. “Do you know that I was given a directive by Ogai-sama?”

She frowned. What was he talking about? “What?”

“Indeed,” he said. “’Help our little oni-kun.’ he said. And…” he spread his hands, “so I am.”

That didn’t make sense to her, and with a singe of annoyance, she put hand hands on her hips. “How is not helping me last night anything of the sort? You know II was attacked? I went into my Rage State.”

“You did?” he asked, his eyes wide. “I… I had no idea.”

“Then where do you think I was all night, Hans?!”

“I… I thought that you found shelter with some of the survivors, Oni-san. Far be it for me to be at your side at every moment. I’m not your babysitter.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, nervously. “I am sorry—what I meant to say, was that I do not want to coddle you too much—Ogai-sama—“

“Coddle me?” she asked, her cheeks heating. “You think you’re coddling me?”

“No,” he said. “What I mean to say is—“

“What you meant to say is,” Rōkura cut in, “is that you think I’m a burden and that you’re bored with me.” As she said the words, she swung her arms, making her blade glint in the defused light of the overcast day.

Hans coked his head with her movements to keep away from the point of her sword. The last thing he wanted was to be cut by Kirai! “Ah,” he said, sticking a finger up into the air. “No. Rōkura, please listen to me.”

She pursed her lips, glanced down at the coconut in her hand. She drank it down and tossed the rest over her shoulder.

With a nervous laugh, he spoke. “I apologize for my poor turn of phrase, there. In all actuality, what I truly meant to convey to you, Oni-san—was that as your new supporter, and with Ogai-sama’s blessing, I am to see that you grow so that you might—“

“Grow?” She shook her head. “No Dice—remember. I don’t grow.”

“Well,” he laughed. “You do grow a little, but, I do mean ‘grow,’ Rōkura, not ‘level.”

Acknowledging his point grudgingly, she growled indecisively while she tried to make up her mind about whether or not she believed him.

“So!” he continued. “About the beast—I am truly sorry about that, but I swear to you”—youkai take me one day—“I had no idea it even existed. One moment you were there, and the next you were gone. I simply thought you took shelter with those people. I admit, I found the whole situation rather tiresome.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, but what he said did make sense… Or is he playing me for some kind of fool? Rōkura tried to parse what had happened again in her mind, but the details of that night were hard to remember since she had spent so much of it in her Rage state.

“I was lazy and arrogant,” Hans said, “and I used the opportunity as an excuse to let you handle things—because I support you—I mean I am your supporter, but I can’t be there all the time to do the heavy lifting, so to speak. Ogai-sama wishes for you to flourish, Oni-san, because you truly are one of his children now.”

She lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “For a father figure, he’s kind of a pervert, doncha think?”

“Well…” Hans chortled with genuine mirth. “I will not deny that.”

Rōkura smiled.

“Aha!” he said, pointing a playful finger. “There we are.”

“Hmph!”

“Now what was that about your Rage state?”

“I… I don’t know. Something attacked me. But Hans!”

“What?”

“Something different happened this time.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

“When I was in my rage state—actually, I have no idea how I got into it—but I was lucid during the entire time.”

“Really?!” he asked with genuine surprise. That would mean that Rōkura’s ability in that regard was increasing. She was… leveling up, so to speak. Or perhaps, she is simply becoming more accustomed to the state?

“What are you thinking?”

“Hmm?”

“You narrow your eyes and knit your eyebrows when you’re thinking.”

“Oh? Do I now?”

She nodded.

“I was just wondering how it’s possible. In any event, we have much time to consider. I fear our trek out of here will take some time.”

Rōkura glanced back, watching as Banjo spoke to the group.

Hans sighed. Then he turned to Rōkura. “When you were attacked,” he said. “Where were you struck?” If his hypothesis was correct, he could use this.

“Um…” she turned awkwardly as she touched her back. “It hit me in the back and it, sort of—“

“Came out the front?”

She nodded a little sheepishly. “Incredible. Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around—let me see.”

She turned for him, and immediately he saw no damage to her Mizu armor other than a small tear. He touched her back were the wound most have been, slightly to the left of her spine.

Had he been more of the perverted type, he might have put his hands on her waist to drag them over her hips and thighs before she realized what was happening. He smiled with amusement. Hans would leave that up to Ogai-sama.

“Yes, I see,” he said.

She turned. “What do you see?”

“When you were pierces by whatever attacked you… it seems that your own blood somehow got into your digestive system. Seeing as how you were pierced utterly through…” He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought. “Well, it’s not unreasonable that to think why you went into your Rage state.”

This is perfect!

Hans had to school his face so that he didn’t smile inadvertently.

Rōkura frowned.

“What is wrong?”

“I just… I thought that if I tried, I could avoid going into that state altogether.”

He nodded sympathetically. The trap was set—now it was time to spring it. “Rōkura-san. I can’t help but see this as a good thing.”

“What?” she asked quickly. “Why?”

“You said you were lucid. Perhaps you can learn to control it—“

“No, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“And what will happen if you do not learn to control it—when you ingest a drop of blood—bite your lip—or any manner of other things that may result in your Rage state inadvertently coming upon you.”

“I…”

“If you do not know how to control it, then it will only be a matter of time before an accident happens and people get hurt.”

She looked at him, and the knowledge of what he said sunk in. Her eyes widened as Rōkura gasped. Oh-no! He’s right!

“Now, now—do not fret, my dear.”

“Why not? This is terrible!”

She felt like a knife had been plunged into her stomach. The hard cold steel of reality was stuck in her guts, and there was no way of pulling it out without disemboweling herself—or those around her.

Hans suddenly took on an intense look. “Listen, Rōkura! I know you are afraid.” He clenched his hands into fists. “But I am here. I swore to guide you and protect you, and that means protecting you from yourself, even. I will not allow you to make mistakes that might result in your mental state shattering.”

“I won’t shatter Hans…” There was no chance of that. Rōkura knew what she had done back in Administrator Fujiwarai’s manor—and she was fine. Well, she couldn’t say for what her mental state would be if Ogai-sama hadn’t put his Mind Block on her to prevent her emotions or memories getting the better of her, but still!

“In any case, I must insist that you learn to control your Oni Rage. It is your ability, one with drastic drawbacks.”

Was Hans right? Should she learn to control it? But that would mean going into her Rage state again. If anything meant the word “practice” to Rōkura, then it was  the act of doing something over and over and improving with each attempt.

She swallowed hard and her heart seemed to shutter along with the cold itching fear prickling her back and ski between her shoulder blades. 

“At least say you will give what I have said some thought, Oni-san?”

“Hm?” She looked at him. “Oh! Um… yes, I will.”

“You will?”

“Mmhm—I will, Hans. I swear it.”

He smiled, feeling that he had won a victory as he leaned over and touched her upper arm. “Do not be afraid. I am here, and we will learn to deal with your abilities.” He took in a deep breath as the wind rustled the fronds above them. “All in good time. Now…” He turned and glanced toward Banjo. “We just have to see about getting out of here in a timely manner. We have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes,” Rōkura said with a nod, her cheeks heating instantly. She remembering killing Fujiwarai, and that feeling of intense satisfaction, though wonderful at first, had waned, and now she wanted more of it—for vengeance on the evildoers who murdered her and her parents.

The camp was a flurry of activity. Men from every corner trained in large groups at the sound of drum beats, shouting short clipped cries with every order of the rhythm change. Blacksmiths pounded their anvils, fashioning katana blades, spear points horseshoes and armor. Warriors moved though out camp, both lowborn and high born on various army tasks.

A runner squished through the mud as he passed Suko, almost bowling her over in the isle of tents as she made her way to the command tent. There were cook pots and fires all over in this area of the camp.

On her way through, a group of high born samurai warriors saw her, their glanced sliding off of Suko like she didn’t exist. For the most part, she was a respectable warrior in the army, but she worked closely with the ninja faction, which caused the samurai to look on her with disdain, and often, to pretend they didn’t see here altogether—like they did now.

That was fine. Honor or not, as a scout, I prefer not to be noticed. But that’s not how it had been in the forest last night. Just remembering brought shivers to her spine. She had to tell the commander.

As a part of the foreword scouts, her word would not be taken lightly, and after informing Atama of what she had seen, he suggested she come to the commander as well.

While the samurai might look down on the ninja as a group that had little to no honor, a group that should be avoided at the best of times and out right shunned at others, the commanders in the higher ranks of the army often were willing to look to the side on such matters if the men fighting under them could get them results.

And when they needed something taken care of discretely.

She strode through the walkways of the officer tents—of the samurai. These walkways were not muddy. Straw and rocks had been dropped down to keep the paths clear for the men.

She strode up to the command tent and the guards let loose a clipped order for her to halt. “Do you have business with Commander Shōzu?”

Nodding, Suko took out her stamped seal, showing that her commanding officer had given his approval for her to come here. With the seal, she was practically an envoy from the front.

The guard looked the seal over thoroughly, his armor of high quality leather and his spear razor sharp. The samurai nodded. “Very well. You may go in to see him in a moment.”

She was made to wait outside while the Shōzu’s honor guard went in to inform the commander of her visit.

Suko wondered what was taking so long, and glanced up into the sky when she thought she heard rumbling. The storms aren’t returning again, are they? She certainly hoped not.

The guard came back out, his expression stern. He handed Suko her seal. “You may go in, but your audience must be short. Commander Shōzu has little time for battlefield reports.

“Hai,” she said with a nod. “I understand.”

With a final nod from the samurai, he looked straight ahead as she passed. The stones that had been laid out in approach to the command tent upon the raised platform served more of a purpose than to simply provide a clear surface to walk upon.

All about the raised platform were poles and wires, and above them hung lanterns and pinions of the army, including His Imperial Majesty’s flag.

The two sword-bearing samurai at the front of the tent watched her approach. One of them moved and lifted the flap for her. “Arigatou,” she muttered, and went in.

Immediately Suko blinked, her eyes needing to readjust to the dimmed lighting within. She swallowed with apprehension. I’ve never been so much as fifty paces from the commander before.

“What are you waiting for?” asked a man. She could barely see him, but she realized he was gesturing her forward. “Come closer.”

Suko strode deeper into the tent, where she glanced with her eyes, not daring to gawk about by swiveling her head like a child or some dumb gaijin. As she approached, several other individuals—warriors from another part of the camp, no doubt, but she didn’t recognized them, bowed and made their way past her and out of the tent.

As she approached Commander Shōzu sitting cross-legged atop the raised platform, she bowed by placing her fists together and muttering “Sonkei.”

The commander nodded curtly. “Sonkei.”

She glanced to the sides, nervous about what she had to bring.

The man standing at the side of the platform looked to the commander, then made eye contact with her. He was thin and tall with long black hair and an intense expression. “I am Tomokai—the commander’s chief advisor. Say your piece, Suko.”

“Arigatou.” She looked at the commander, who remained silent and placid. “Commander Shōzu. I am stationed with the forward scouts near the coast.”

“Less words,” said Tomokai.

Suko was taken aback as she glanced between the two men. Deciding to use as few words as possible at the risk of annoying them further, she simply added, “A powerful warrior—like none I have ever seen—approaches the city.”

“A powerful warrior, you say?” asked Tomokai as he shared a glance with the commander.

Suko nodded. “She and her company are both strong—though she is far stronger than he. They have come from the cost where their ship was wrecked on the way to the Capital.”

And then, to her surprised, Shōzu spoke. “Not the enemy?”

“No, Shōzu-sama. A gaijin—a young oni woman.” The commander’s assistant told her to continue. “Her power was unbridled. Massive. Were it not for a wild pig, she would have discovered me, and I believe without a doubt, had she, I would be dead now.”

“Hmm,” noised Shōzu. Then he shared quiet words with his advisor.

Finally Tomokai tuned to her. “And she is with other people?”

Suko nodded. “Heading in this direction.”

“Why,” asked Tomokai, “do you believe she would have killed you?”

“I… I do not know.”

“What do you mean, you ‘do not know’?”

She breathed out a sigh of apprehension at his sudden impatience and annoyance. “She was… not right in her mind. The woman was enraged—like nothing I have ever seen.”

“Perhaps an ability,” said Tomokai.

Shōzu narrowed her eyes. “I want her here.”

“My lord?” asked Suko.

“I want her here!”

Her heart skipped a beat, as she didn’t know what to say to that command. What was she—

“I will arrange for the Taisho Six to accompany you back to your commanding officer. They will handle things for you.”

Suko almost, spoke. She wanted to offer assistance, but it seemed they were not interested, so she changed her mind and bowed. “Very well, my lords.”

“Now leave,” said Tomokai. “Stay where we can find you easily.”

With a final bow, she left the tent and breathed a sigh of relief.

Striding forward, she went to the second set of samurai guards and asked them where she could wait for an extended period. He directed her to a tent.

She went.

While Suko was preparing to be contacted by her commanding officers, Tomokai and Commander Shōzu continued their conversation regarding the news she had brought them.

“The Taisho Six can handle this, my lord. I assure you that—“

“Do as I order you.”

“Of course,” Tomokai said. “I will have the ninja accompany them.” As he stood facing the commander now, he continued, and since he was Shōzu’s advisor, he could say what he liked without risking punishment or scorn.

“What is it?” asked Shōzu.

“I have a plan to assure this these individuals come here. It will involve the ninja—but… We will do things differently than simply capturing them, my lord.”

Shōzu was not a patient man, and he was an even more impatient commander. He narrowed his yes. “Tell me your plan.”

Tomokai smiled.

While they walked through the forest, Hans complained about marking up his shoes. Rōkura wished she could have something to eat, and all the travelers behind them—the survivors of the shipwreck, complained about wanting water.

“I’m thirsty too,” Rōkura said.

“Fine,” Hans said, stretching out the word broadly. “I will go find us something to drink.” He turned to Banjo. “Are you quite sure this path will lead us to the Capital? We are in a hurry, you know.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Banjo said with a smile. “I’ve been to the Capital before, so I know this area well.”

“We should stop to let them rest,” Rōkura suggested. She was worrying about Aki and her baby.

“Yes, yes,” Hans said. “I’ll go find that water. I shant be long.”

“I’ll come with you,” Banjo suggested.

Hans looked up at him skeptically. “Do you think you can keep up, good man?”

“Of course I can. I might not be a powerful adventurer like you, but I can at least keep up with your speed.”

“I am no adventurer, boy.”

Banjo laughed at those words, not understanding that Hans was indeed far older than he. “Just lead the way,” he said cheerfully.

Rōkura smiled at his optimism and good cheer. Turning, she said to the hungry and weary travelers, “All right we can rest!”

A collective sigh went up into the air, and everyone promptly found places to sit and rest their tired feet and muscles.

Planning to go to Aki and her husband Shin so she could talk with them, Rōkura watched as Hans and Banjo trotted off into the forest on their quest to find water. She smiled, knowing that the men she was intending to kill could wait a little while longer.

No one in the group suspected or thought that the horned oni was intending on murder as soon as she reached the Capital. Despite her worries about her Oni Rage—she was confident that Hans could help her learn to control it.

She had been wrong about him.

They would train her ability, she decided, though she hadn’t told Hans that. Nothing prevented her from training or using her ability in a safe area where no one could get hurt.

Even so… I’m glad I’m not covered in blood today.

As the words in Rōkura’s head filled her with a temporary join, she had no idea that a group of elite assassins and their ninja counterparts were well on their way to finding them—their mission: to bring the oni back to the camp by means of treachery or force.

Rōkura strode among the tired travelers, her gaze finding Aki and Shin, who looked up at her with smiles on their faces. They offered to let Rōkura hold little Nobu, which at first, and against her better judgment, she had declined. But then once she had him in her arms, she instinctually wanted to sooth him, to coo and to make him feel good.

With a smile, she realized babies weren’t as scary as she thought they were. And then as her luck would have it, a warm liquid soaked through his swaddling cloth and onto her Mizu armor.

“Oh no…”

Aki laughed. “Gomen.”

“It’s fine.”

“It happens all the time,” Shin said.

“All the time?” asked Rōkura, wondering if her Persistent Bad Luck had a part to play now that she was covered in urine.

“All the time,” he reassured her.

That was too bad, because Rōkura hoped her bad luck was only manifesting in little ways. Better that then something serious.

She sighed, putting a smile on her face and hopping Hans and Banjo would find some water so she could wash herself.

While this was happening, the wind whipped Shinjiro’s hair behind his back as he stood on the prow of the ship about to make port in the Capital, his eyes narrowed and his intent on finding Rōkura.