Day 1 - Ayase
The City of Otosan Uchi rose before them like the broken crown of some ancient ruler hunched over the bay. Its sturdy walls and mighty gates made an imposing fortress, far larger than anything Ayase had ever seen before. To her, walls surrounded individual castles…not whole cities. Even then, the gates of Kuyden Kakita had never shut in her lifetime. A stream of carts and horses, heimen with heavy bundles carried on their heads, monks and palanquins, and mighty samurai, some on tall Unicorn steeds, all waited patiently for their permission to enter the city.
She glanced over at her traveling companions. Bayushi Saizo’s expression was, as usual, impossible to read behind his cloth mask. The painted smile gave the impression of sinister amusement, but the Kakita had quickly learned that that meant nothing. Especially after he gave a grumbling response to the shugenja with them about stopping at yet another one of the local shrines.
Iuchi Merquri, in his fur-trimmed robes and pointed gaijin hat, on the other hand, did not conceal his slack-jawed wonder at the sheer enormity of the city. Ayase’s mouth tightened. He had accepted her gift of a pillowbook…and the warning that he no longer meddle in her personal life that came with it. He had begged her forgiveness. She had given it fairly, but it would take some time for her not to be on guard for some fresh humiliation. She hoped the shugenja would come to understand that the rules for decorum were going to be far stricter here than in his native lands.
For herself, the sight of the city, though towering beyond belief, just filled her with greater resolution. It was another obstacle, to be conquered or circumvented, and one that she must overcome before she would be allowed to search for her father. The weight of Chōetsu on her hip was a comfort that strengthened her resolve. Still, it was hard not to feel very small indeed as a unit of heavily armed Imperial Soldiers pushed them off the road to pass those waiting in line to enter the fortified gates. Snow Goose whinnied softly in complaint, but there was nothing to be done but stand aside.
A few questions of the guards while they showed their papers, and they were soon directed to the Ruby Dojo. There they would begin their training as Yoriki to the Emerald Magistrates. Servants met them at the door of the dojo, and helped carry Ayase’s straw panniers up to the women’s barracks. A simple futon and chest had been prepared for her. Fifteen other futons, each perfectly rolled up in spotless order, lined the walls, showing that she was only one of many students even if none of the others were there right now.
An older student standing in the hallway shook her head as the Crane passed by, an expression of pity in her eyes. Ayase wanted to ask questions, but a bell rang. It summoned them, as the newest students of the school, to the dojo. Ayase hurried forward, uncertain of how they would be welcomed.
The three of them assembled on the dojo floor, where the old Seppun waited, a grim expression in her eyes. A number of older students knelt in a line behind her, each keeping a pose of perfect, attentive respect.
Ayase, with the other two, bowed.
The Seppun spoke.
“My name is Seppun Izumi. I do not like any of you. You have been given the chance to study at this dojo. My solemn duty is to make as many of you fail as possible. Your first lesson will be simple. Dodge"
Ayase blinked "Wha---"
A solid kemari ball pounded into her stomach, crushing the air out of her lungs and causing her to slide back a step.
"DODGE!"
Each of the older students stood, throwing the balls at the three of them, while the Seppun scowled.
“Next time,” she said. “It won’t be a ball.”
The City of Otosan Uchi rose before them like the broken crown of some ancient ruler hunched over the bay. Its sturdy walls and mighty gates made an imposing fortress, far larger than anything Ayase had ever seen before. To her, walls surrounded individual castles…not whole cities. Even then, the gates of Kuyden Kakita had never shut in her lifetime. A stream of carts and horses, heimen with heavy bundles carried on their heads, monks and palanquins, and mighty samurai, some on tall Unicorn steeds, all waited patiently for their permission to enter the city.
She glanced over at her traveling companions. Bayushi Saizo’s expression was, as usual, impossible to read behind his cloth mask. The painted smile gave the impression of sinister amusement, but the Kakita had quickly learned that that meant nothing. Especially after he gave a grumbling response to the shugenja with them about stopping at yet another one of the local shrines.
Iuchi Merquri, in his fur-trimmed robes and pointed gaijin hat, on the other hand, did not conceal his slack-jawed wonder at the sheer enormity of the city. Ayase’s mouth tightened. He had accepted her gift of a pillowbook…and the warning that he no longer meddle in her personal life that came with it. He had begged her forgiveness. She had given it fairly, but it would take some time for her not to be on guard for some fresh humiliation. She hoped the shugenja would come to understand that the rules for decorum were going to be far stricter here than in his native lands.
For herself, the sight of the city, though towering beyond belief, just filled her with greater resolution. It was another obstacle, to be conquered or circumvented, and one that she must overcome before she would be allowed to search for her father. The weight of Chōetsu on her hip was a comfort that strengthened her resolve. Still, it was hard not to feel very small indeed as a unit of heavily armed Imperial Soldiers pushed them off the road to pass those waiting in line to enter the fortified gates. Snow Goose whinnied softly in complaint, but there was nothing to be done but stand aside.
A few questions of the guards while they showed their papers, and they were soon directed to the Ruby Dojo. There they would begin their training as Yoriki to the Emerald Magistrates. Servants met them at the door of the dojo, and helped carry Ayase’s straw panniers up to the women’s barracks. A simple futon and chest had been prepared for her. Fifteen other futons, each perfectly rolled up in spotless order, lined the walls, showing that she was only one of many students even if none of the others were there right now.
An older student standing in the hallway shook her head as the Crane passed by, an expression of pity in her eyes. Ayase wanted to ask questions, but a bell rang. It summoned them, as the newest students of the school, to the dojo. Ayase hurried forward, uncertain of how they would be welcomed.
The three of them assembled on the dojo floor, where the old Seppun waited, a grim expression in her eyes. A number of older students knelt in a line behind her, each keeping a pose of perfect, attentive respect.
Ayase, with the other two, bowed.
The Seppun spoke.
“My name is Seppun Izumi. I do not like any of you. You have been given the chance to study at this dojo. My solemn duty is to make as many of you fail as possible. Your first lesson will be simple. Dodge"
Ayase blinked "Wha---"
A solid kemari ball pounded into her stomach, crushing the air out of her lungs and causing her to slide back a step.
"DODGE!"
Each of the older students stood, throwing the balls at the three of them, while the Seppun scowled.
“Next time,” she said. “It won’t be a ball.”
Day 5 - Saizo
I don’t know what I expected when I came into Otosan Uchi, maybe escape? Whatever it was, it wasn’t to have a sadistic Seppun have a bunch of people try to murder me with kemari balls.
Never thought I’d miss the Shame box, but I do somehow I do. Seppun-sensei was of the opinion that whatever my skill with a blade or other weapons. (Apparently being able to use a ‘Dragon Hook’ chain weapon without training merited a ‘huh, neat’) I was shit with people. I contested that in my head, but knew better than to say anything. Not like Merquri, poor dumb Merquri, never thought I’d think that about a Shugenja.
She told me tomorrow I was to go with Kasuga-san for ‘awareness training’. I didn’t like the way she said that, but there was nothing I could do.
Day 5 - Shiori
The Phoenix embassy housed a veritable legion of courtiers, bushi and shugenja, all bustling about the business of court and diplomacy. As such it was no surprise Shiori was made to wait for almost two hours before being allowed into the presence of Shiba Atsumichi, assistant sensei at the building’s dojo. The older Shiba had an impressive record as a yojimbo across various winter courts and had only recently begun teaching his skills to others, Shiori, never the most confident with a blade had petitioned for a meeting with the sensei to beg his help in bringing the Asako’s bladework up to scratch.
“You don’t look particularly skilled to me.” Initial reports did not appear encouraging.
“Hai Shiba-sensei, this one is no master.”
“Clearly.” The Shiba continued sitting in silence…. And so Shiori did as well. Finally:
“Maybe you are at least fast? I recall you made the Topaz finals.”
“I try to leverage my speed.”
Again the sensei sat impassive, regarding the smaller Phoenix. “Show me.”
5 minutes later Shiori was lying on his back in the Phoenix dojo wondering why the roof kept spinning. After what seemed like an eternity Shiba-sensei appeared in his field of view.“Not that fast either, maybe fast enough to defeat a child… a slow child.”
“H-hai Shiba-sensei.”
Atsumichi grunted, looking down at Shiori without expression before slowly extending a hand to pull the Asako up. “Still, if I allow you to continue on like this you will probably embarrass the clan.”
Shiori began to feel as though the sensei did not focus on positive reinforcement.
“And you are not completely hopeless, you can at least touch the void….. You will report to me, daily until I judge you capable. I will ask Isawa-sama if a water shugenja can be spared.”
“A shugenja Shiba-sensei?”
“To win you must be able to defeat opponents who will not hold back, therefore I will not hold back. But at the same time it is inefficient to allow you to return to your duties in a physically incapable state.” His statement, Shiori reflected, continued to be worryingly far from positive reinforcement.
“Of course Shiba-sensei, I am honoured by the opportunity to learn from your teachings.”
“Then do not disappointment Asako-san, now, your stance.”
30 seconds later Shiori was lying on his back again, he had the feeling it would be a long summer.
I don’t know what I expected when I came into Otosan Uchi, maybe escape? Whatever it was, it wasn’t to have a sadistic Seppun have a bunch of people try to murder me with kemari balls.
Never thought I’d miss the Shame box, but I do somehow I do. Seppun-sensei was of the opinion that whatever my skill with a blade or other weapons. (Apparently being able to use a ‘Dragon Hook’ chain weapon without training merited a ‘huh, neat’) I was shit with people. I contested that in my head, but knew better than to say anything. Not like Merquri, poor dumb Merquri, never thought I’d think that about a Shugenja.
She told me tomorrow I was to go with Kasuga-san for ‘awareness training’. I didn’t like the way she said that, but there was nothing I could do.
Day 5 - Shiori
The Phoenix embassy housed a veritable legion of courtiers, bushi and shugenja, all bustling about the business of court and diplomacy. As such it was no surprise Shiori was made to wait for almost two hours before being allowed into the presence of Shiba Atsumichi, assistant sensei at the building’s dojo. The older Shiba had an impressive record as a yojimbo across various winter courts and had only recently begun teaching his skills to others, Shiori, never the most confident with a blade had petitioned for a meeting with the sensei to beg his help in bringing the Asako’s bladework up to scratch.
“You don’t look particularly skilled to me.” Initial reports did not appear encouraging.
“Hai Shiba-sensei, this one is no master.”
“Clearly.” The Shiba continued sitting in silence…. And so Shiori did as well. Finally:
“Maybe you are at least fast? I recall you made the Topaz finals.”
“I try to leverage my speed.”
Again the sensei sat impassive, regarding the smaller Phoenix. “Show me.”
5 minutes later Shiori was lying on his back in the Phoenix dojo wondering why the roof kept spinning. After what seemed like an eternity Shiba-sensei appeared in his field of view.“Not that fast either, maybe fast enough to defeat a child… a slow child.”
“H-hai Shiba-sensei.”
Atsumichi grunted, looking down at Shiori without expression before slowly extending a hand to pull the Asako up. “Still, if I allow you to continue on like this you will probably embarrass the clan.”
Shiori began to feel as though the sensei did not focus on positive reinforcement.
“And you are not completely hopeless, you can at least touch the void….. You will report to me, daily until I judge you capable. I will ask Isawa-sama if a water shugenja can be spared.”
“A shugenja Shiba-sensei?”
“To win you must be able to defeat opponents who will not hold back, therefore I will not hold back. But at the same time it is inefficient to allow you to return to your duties in a physically incapable state.” His statement, Shiori reflected, continued to be worryingly far from positive reinforcement.
“Of course Shiba-sensei, I am honoured by the opportunity to learn from your teachings.”
“Then do not disappointment Asako-san, now, your stance.”
30 seconds later Shiori was lying on his back again, he had the feeling it would be a long summer.
Day 7 - Merquri
He hadn't seen much of anyone after the first few days/beatings. His training has mostly consisted of the standard purification rituals needed in this line of work. That he already knew them didn't matter, needed to make sure they weren't tainted by strange gaijin customs apparently. The Isawa was there, but he barely spoke to him. For some reason all the bad things seemed to bypass him altogether, the ire of the sensei's were always on Merquri's shoulders. But he took it all the same.
Today was different though. Today he was with the rest of the students. Learning to spot lies today, when interrogation couldn't be used. Sadly, he was once again in bokey's corner as he called it. The Seppun had decided she didn't like how he'd worn his incredibly Rokugani hat today, and he was ordered to meditate on how stupid wearing his hat that way was, and to write an apology to be delivered and read to her for offending her so. If he failed, well bokey would come to visit again. He hated that bokken. His vengeance against it would be total.
A woman walked in, dressed in Crane style. “My name is Doji Asami. I'm to teach you how to spot lies in court. So we're going to play a game. I will tell you three things, 2 true, one false. You will reach write down which statement is false. Motivation is important of course. The person who gets the most right, or the people who get all of them right have tomorrow off. The person who gets the least correct, will be tomorrow's demonstration partner for Hida-sensei's jitte training. Understood?”
The students murmured to themselves. An extra day off was worth more than the Emperor's blessing to some. And no one wanted to be part of the Hida’s demonstrations. He was after all fond of saying restraint is for the weak. And he was anything but weak.
Merquri watched intensely. He penned the words to his letter as he did so, it needed to be perfect after all. He'd gotten somewhat used to splitting his attention, but he noticed something as she spoke. Something...odd.
The game was easy at first. She added things that no person like herself could have done at first. Slain a goblin with her bare hands, assassinated a maho tsukai in his sleep, things of that nature. The point of this part was to catch the tell. As soon as you found it, the rest was easy. Know the tell, and the later lies, the ones without any real way of deducing which were false, were easy to detect. Don't find it, and you're screwed, just have to guess at that point.
Merquri watched his fellow students. They all wrote after every sentence. The Isawa was sweating bullets, Ayase looked tired but wrote still, as did Saizo. Merquri looked at his own paper. He had missed almost all of them, he was too busy writing the letter of apology after all. But for some reason he didn't mind that.
“Alright, stamp them and send them here for me to look at. Iuchi-san I'll look at yours once you've displays proper gratitude to Seppun-Sensei.”. She gave a small smirk, as did several of the students, including the Isawa. He seemed to love his misfortune. Merquri didn't know why, he hadn't done anything to him after all.
“Alright you're all dismissed, the winner will be announced this evening, as will the loser.”. The rest of the students left, as the Doji started going through them. Seppun Izumi entered soon after, looking at Merquri, bokey in hand.
“Well Iuchi-san.”. Merquri stood and delivered his speech. The Seppun contemplated for a bit, taking the letter he'd written her. For a moment Merquri felt as though bokey was about to come down on his head again, before the Seppun nodded. “It is passable enough I suppose. Now. Let me see your answers to Doji-sensei’s game.”.
“Yes Seppun-Sensei.” Merquri reached down, and handed her a single sheet. It only had two statements on it.
My name is Doji Asami.
I will tell you three things, 2 true, one false.
The Seppun looked at it for a second. Then she walked over to the Doji and slapped it down in front of her. The Doji looked at it, then looked back up to Iuchi, then back down to the paper. “So… He's better then you let on ,Seppun-sensei. You know I'll have to teach him now right?”. The Seppun nodded solemnly and exited the room, closing the door behind her. The Doji then stood up and approached Merquri. “So iuchi-san you can see through my lies. And you're a shugenja, which means if you're going to be a magistrate, you need to know what the empire's enemies are capable of. But such knowledge can corrupt, can drive mad, and is something often best left to others. Do you think you can handle it?”.
Merquri felt his hackles raise. He didn't know why, but he felt as though this woman was weighing him, his answer, and if she didn't like it, he'd be cut down immediately.
“Yes Sensei.”
She paused for a second, then smiled. “Good. Report to me tomorrow. After you're done helping Hida-sensei with his demonstrations of course.”. At his look kinda confusion she continued. “The truth is dangerous, Iuchi-san. You should know how dangerous it is to reveal your knowledge”.
Good kami this place is insane.
Day 10 - Saizo
Awareness training consists of sitting on interrogations while a burakumin tortures a criminal into confession. My training….my training prepared me to do some dark things. But the almost casual cruelty is disturbing even to me. Torture is done to make a point, it’s not really about getting information most of the time, everyone talks after you break five fingers and have begun working bamboo under the fingernails. Talk about useful stuff? Less so. It’s about sending a message, it’s about getting a confession so that everyone can go home. I can get that, after a fashion it’s fucking sick and twisted but I can get that.
The hard part is when Kasuga-san looks at me and asks, “And how is Convict-san lying?”
I know I have to tell the best answer. But they usually beg, scream, swear, offer their first born children that they aren’t lying...and they sometimes aren’t. Sometimes they’re so out of their mind with pain, that they really believe whatever they’re saying.
Doesn’t matter, I still have to answer.
I’ve come to like my training with Ayase and Merquri more than I thought I would.
Sweet Shinsei’s nipples, what is the world coming to?
Day 10 - Shiori
Asako Shiori this letter grants you the right to commence training as a Mediator, the esteemed Asako Enko will begin your instruction and judge your progress. Meet with her in the Higshikawa District in three days time. May your ancestors watch over you. Good Fortune.
- Asako Chuai, Head Mediator
Day 13 - Shiori
Enko’s house was a comfortable, if small construction, nestled next to the ‘Endless Journey’ gardens, a small garden of its own separated it from the street and a winding path of black and white stones lead to a simple wooden door. Shiori tried to dampen his excitement as best he could after the incident… he never thought he could have come this far. Walking slowly and carefully along the path he raised his hand to scratch at the door, but at his approach it opened before him, the interior seemed to yawn ahead, black and open. “This humble samurai is Asako Shiori he is-”
“Yes yes, come in Asako-san, I am preparing tea, there is a stand for your sword in the corridor.” And indeed there was, Shiori carefully placed his katana upon it and went to continue inside when. “And your Wakizashi as well samurai.” With a start he also placed the smaller blade alongside its pair, feeling almost naked for an instant before brushing it off. After his sandals were also removed he ventured deeper into the house and followed the central corridor and the sound of a whistling kettle to a living room whose exterior doors were slid wide open allowing a view of the garden beyond.
A woman, stooped with age but yet full of energy was bustling around one corner of the room, apparently interchanging tea preparation with ikebana arrangement and letter writing, without looking back at him she waved Shiori to a low table. “Welcome welcome Asako Shiori-san, I will be with you in just a moment, I just have to prevent a border war.” She returned to the writing the letter, while her left hand mechanically poured two cups of tea. Mouth open and half way through beginning a bow the young Phoenix froze self-consciously and tried to stand as politely and unobtrusively as possible by the table, waiting for her to finish. After murmuring to herself and finishing the letter with a single definite stroke Enko turned towards him carrying a small tray of tea cups. “I have sent a servant for food, you will of course dine with me Asako-san, from the look of you you should eat more, you are far too thing.”
“Um” Trying to get a handle of how to respond to this situation he defaulted to his training “Blessings upon you Asako Enko-sama, I am honoured to be invited to your home.” He bowed deeply.
“Good good” she sat the tray down carefully and bowed politely back to him “From what I had heard of the infamous Asako Shiori, you were as like to execute me as offer a polite greeting.” Seeing his face she chuckles and smiles, her crinkled face lighting up “But you reminded me of my own grandson, so I felt instead of arming myself for battle, tea would be best. Now. Sit. Drink. We will speak. Then we will eat”
She assumed seiza before the table and handed him a tea cup as he knelt down. “We have much to discuss.”
Day 20 - Saizo
I don’t know why I expected to be mostly ignored by the local Scorpion delegation. Somehow I did though, that lasted about as long as it took me to finish setting in for lunch on the one day off. A man I didn’t know introduced himself as Soshi Nanashi. Nanashi, no one, cute. Nanashi made it clear that even if I was in service to the Emerald, my duties to the Scorpion weren’t done. If anything it was more important than ever.
In fact he had a task for me. Apparently next day’s criminal actually had useful information, and I was to make sure it didn’t get out.
Day 21 - Saizo
I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again. I asked for a hands on demonstration on how to do this so that if I have to do it in the field without a burakumin, I won’t become unclean. Kasuga-san seemed glad that someone showed initiative, and had me work through some joint locks and other tortures on the convict.
No blood, no impurity.
I killed him ‘accidentally’. It’s known as waterboarding, something you can do anywhere apparently. I put too much water down his throat, he drowned. I took a beating for that and told to go clean up, but the mission is done
Five hours later, and I still don’t feel clean. Maybe it’s because it’s my first murder? Tch, sensei would put me in the shame box for this...I followed orders, I didn’t even technically do burakumin work although it sure as hell feels like I did.
It’s time to let go. I will be the villain, just as every other member of my clan is.
I feel clean.
Awareness training consists of sitting on interrogations while a burakumin tortures a criminal into confession. My training….my training prepared me to do some dark things. But the almost casual cruelty is disturbing even to me. Torture is done to make a point, it’s not really about getting information most of the time, everyone talks after you break five fingers and have begun working bamboo under the fingernails. Talk about useful stuff? Less so. It’s about sending a message, it’s about getting a confession so that everyone can go home. I can get that, after a fashion it’s fucking sick and twisted but I can get that.
The hard part is when Kasuga-san looks at me and asks, “And how is Convict-san lying?”
I know I have to tell the best answer. But they usually beg, scream, swear, offer their first born children that they aren’t lying...and they sometimes aren’t. Sometimes they’re so out of their mind with pain, that they really believe whatever they’re saying.
Doesn’t matter, I still have to answer.
I’ve come to like my training with Ayase and Merquri more than I thought I would.
Sweet Shinsei’s nipples, what is the world coming to?
Day 10 - Shiori
Asako Shiori this letter grants you the right to commence training as a Mediator, the esteemed Asako Enko will begin your instruction and judge your progress. Meet with her in the Higshikawa District in three days time. May your ancestors watch over you. Good Fortune.
- Asako Chuai, Head Mediator
Day 13 - Shiori
Enko’s house was a comfortable, if small construction, nestled next to the ‘Endless Journey’ gardens, a small garden of its own separated it from the street and a winding path of black and white stones lead to a simple wooden door. Shiori tried to dampen his excitement as best he could after the incident… he never thought he could have come this far. Walking slowly and carefully along the path he raised his hand to scratch at the door, but at his approach it opened before him, the interior seemed to yawn ahead, black and open. “This humble samurai is Asako Shiori he is-”
“Yes yes, come in Asako-san, I am preparing tea, there is a stand for your sword in the corridor.” And indeed there was, Shiori carefully placed his katana upon it and went to continue inside when. “And your Wakizashi as well samurai.” With a start he also placed the smaller blade alongside its pair, feeling almost naked for an instant before brushing it off. After his sandals were also removed he ventured deeper into the house and followed the central corridor and the sound of a whistling kettle to a living room whose exterior doors were slid wide open allowing a view of the garden beyond.
A woman, stooped with age but yet full of energy was bustling around one corner of the room, apparently interchanging tea preparation with ikebana arrangement and letter writing, without looking back at him she waved Shiori to a low table. “Welcome welcome Asako Shiori-san, I will be with you in just a moment, I just have to prevent a border war.” She returned to the writing the letter, while her left hand mechanically poured two cups of tea. Mouth open and half way through beginning a bow the young Phoenix froze self-consciously and tried to stand as politely and unobtrusively as possible by the table, waiting for her to finish. After murmuring to herself and finishing the letter with a single definite stroke Enko turned towards him carrying a small tray of tea cups. “I have sent a servant for food, you will of course dine with me Asako-san, from the look of you you should eat more, you are far too thing.”
“Um” Trying to get a handle of how to respond to this situation he defaulted to his training “Blessings upon you Asako Enko-sama, I am honoured to be invited to your home.” He bowed deeply.
“Good good” she sat the tray down carefully and bowed politely back to him “From what I had heard of the infamous Asako Shiori, you were as like to execute me as offer a polite greeting.” Seeing his face she chuckles and smiles, her crinkled face lighting up “But you reminded me of my own grandson, so I felt instead of arming myself for battle, tea would be best. Now. Sit. Drink. We will speak. Then we will eat”
She assumed seiza before the table and handed him a tea cup as he knelt down. “We have much to discuss.”
Day 20 - Saizo
I don’t know why I expected to be mostly ignored by the local Scorpion delegation. Somehow I did though, that lasted about as long as it took me to finish setting in for lunch on the one day off. A man I didn’t know introduced himself as Soshi Nanashi. Nanashi, no one, cute. Nanashi made it clear that even if I was in service to the Emerald, my duties to the Scorpion weren’t done. If anything it was more important than ever.
In fact he had a task for me. Apparently next day’s criminal actually had useful information, and I was to make sure it didn’t get out.
Day 21 - Saizo
I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again. I asked for a hands on demonstration on how to do this so that if I have to do it in the field without a burakumin, I won’t become unclean. Kasuga-san seemed glad that someone showed initiative, and had me work through some joint locks and other tortures on the convict.
No blood, no impurity.
I killed him ‘accidentally’. It’s known as waterboarding, something you can do anywhere apparently. I put too much water down his throat, he drowned. I took a beating for that and told to go clean up, but the mission is done
Five hours later, and I still don’t feel clean. Maybe it’s because it’s my first murder? Tch, sensei would put me in the shame box for this...I followed orders, I didn’t even technically do burakumin work although it sure as hell feels like I did.
It’s time to let go. I will be the villain, just as every other member of my clan is.
I feel clean.
Day 30 - Ayase
The slightest sound in the hallway…less than the brush of a footstep against the floorboards, and Ayase’s eyes were wide open. She had grown used to this. Any hour of the day or night, and she could expect to be awakened to go run, or train with her sword, or memorize some text of law, and be tested on how aptly she would be able to achieve the goals her sensei had determined for her. If she were not alert and awaiting her instructions when they actually entered her room, she would not be permitted to sleep for the rest of the night. Her time would be claimed, instead, for meditating upon her failure.
The previous month of training had been hard, though for each of them, the training had gone differently. Early on, it seemed like an unending series of tests, one after another. How to sit, how to stand, how to move. Written test after written test. Poor Merquri-san had the worst of it, those first hard weeks. By the second day, the older students had burned the gaijin clothing he had arrived in, even his exotic hat. “You are in Otosan Uchi, now, boy. You better look it.” New, more conventional, clothing was procured for him, but Ayase could see how badly he mourned his fancy silks and barbarian furs. At first, Merquri bristled at the violation, voicing more umbrage than her own sensei would ever have allowed. That made everything worse for him, earning him a beating until he wrote and offered a flawless apology, filled with gratitude that they would help him put aside his gaijin ways. The next day, he arrived with his bruises healed…which earned him a fresh beating. That said, his next apology was definitely better than the first, and he accepted the criticism with polite stoicism. The methods were much like what Ayase remembered from her days at the Kakita Academy, but it surprised her that the Iuchi had such a hard time adapting to it. There were only two shugenja in the dojo at the time, and the other was a frail-looking, flighty Isawa that Ayase saw little of. She wondered if the sensei treated him the same.
Once the tests were given, the three of them were separated, lost among the groups of other students. Not that they didn’t see each other often. She and Saizo would study together for both law and medicine. Studying the practice of law under a Crane instructor was as familiar to Ayase as breathing, and she gamely argued the nuances of the application of the seventh tenant of mercy with the best of her classmates. But the Kuni instructor who taught medicine seemed to take special delight in watching her appalled face as the burakumin presented the blue and bloated body of a fisherman who had been found in the bay. Although they were not forced to touch the unclean thing, he seemed almost jovial as he pointed out the various pressure points, the channels of chi, and pooling of the elements that accompanied the lesson. His appearance and manner reminded Ayase of Kuni Katsuyoshi, and she fingered her jade netsuke throughout the lesson as she struggled not to vomit. Meanwhile, Saizo just looked at her with a coolly amused expression, and she had to wonder how many similar sights he’d been witness to growing up.
For other lessons, however, Saizo and she were separated. He and a handful of other students were led off by a slender Tortoise clan samurai with a long, thin mustache and a black courtier’s cap. When the Bayushi came back from those lessons, he was quieter than usual, but did not speak of them. Of course, there were rumors of what was taught there. Suspects were interrogated. Tortured. There were burakumin to do the actual job torturing, but still. Whatever was taught, it was not considered a lesson for young Crane samurai-ko; she was never instructed to attend. After the first few lessons, Ayase would bring Saizo tea and they would sit on a bench near the rock garden. They wouldn’t speak of what had happened.
The Crab instructor for the physical arts was convinced that Ayase, as a Crane, as a woman, as a Kakita, was not capable of meeting his exacting physical standards as a bushi, so she was kept in the dojo longer and later than anyone else. He took such times to make her feel every bit as small and inadequate as he thought she was. “So, Pretty Princess,” he would laugh at her as she struggled to climb the rope that hung from the dojo ceiling. “Why haven’t you learned to fly yet?” She almost could laugh. She’d always been the fastest in the dojo, the most athletic. She remembered the race through Tsuma village with Yasuki Kagesuro, running along the walls with careless grace. This bird could fly if you’d stop shouting at her! she thought uncharitably. But she said nothing. She had gotten her own beatings for her failures. She didn’t want another one like the one Merquri got.
At the end of the day, Ayase was weary down to her very core. That made the frequent nightly awakenings all the more difficult to bear. The lack of sleep was no excuse for weakness the following day. But, after a month of it, it took little more than that footfall she had heard to bring her to her feet, ready to act.
But this time, the door didn’t open. Maybe I’m supposed to go see? She wasn’t sure what to do, so, trying not to wake the other girls, she slipped towards the shoji screen and opened it just a crack.
There, in the shadows, she saw a familiar figure at the far end of the hallway, near where the window opened into the hot night air. As she watched, Bayushi Saizo climbed over the window ledge and disappeared into the night.
Well. Kuso.
But the next day, for Law, he was there as if nothing had happened.
The slightest sound in the hallway…less than the brush of a footstep against the floorboards, and Ayase’s eyes were wide open. She had grown used to this. Any hour of the day or night, and she could expect to be awakened to go run, or train with her sword, or memorize some text of law, and be tested on how aptly she would be able to achieve the goals her sensei had determined for her. If she were not alert and awaiting her instructions when they actually entered her room, she would not be permitted to sleep for the rest of the night. Her time would be claimed, instead, for meditating upon her failure.
The previous month of training had been hard, though for each of them, the training had gone differently. Early on, it seemed like an unending series of tests, one after another. How to sit, how to stand, how to move. Written test after written test. Poor Merquri-san had the worst of it, those first hard weeks. By the second day, the older students had burned the gaijin clothing he had arrived in, even his exotic hat. “You are in Otosan Uchi, now, boy. You better look it.” New, more conventional, clothing was procured for him, but Ayase could see how badly he mourned his fancy silks and barbarian furs. At first, Merquri bristled at the violation, voicing more umbrage than her own sensei would ever have allowed. That made everything worse for him, earning him a beating until he wrote and offered a flawless apology, filled with gratitude that they would help him put aside his gaijin ways. The next day, he arrived with his bruises healed…which earned him a fresh beating. That said, his next apology was definitely better than the first, and he accepted the criticism with polite stoicism. The methods were much like what Ayase remembered from her days at the Kakita Academy, but it surprised her that the Iuchi had such a hard time adapting to it. There were only two shugenja in the dojo at the time, and the other was a frail-looking, flighty Isawa that Ayase saw little of. She wondered if the sensei treated him the same.
Once the tests were given, the three of them were separated, lost among the groups of other students. Not that they didn’t see each other often. She and Saizo would study together for both law and medicine. Studying the practice of law under a Crane instructor was as familiar to Ayase as breathing, and she gamely argued the nuances of the application of the seventh tenant of mercy with the best of her classmates. But the Kuni instructor who taught medicine seemed to take special delight in watching her appalled face as the burakumin presented the blue and bloated body of a fisherman who had been found in the bay. Although they were not forced to touch the unclean thing, he seemed almost jovial as he pointed out the various pressure points, the channels of chi, and pooling of the elements that accompanied the lesson. His appearance and manner reminded Ayase of Kuni Katsuyoshi, and she fingered her jade netsuke throughout the lesson as she struggled not to vomit. Meanwhile, Saizo just looked at her with a coolly amused expression, and she had to wonder how many similar sights he’d been witness to growing up.
For other lessons, however, Saizo and she were separated. He and a handful of other students were led off by a slender Tortoise clan samurai with a long, thin mustache and a black courtier’s cap. When the Bayushi came back from those lessons, he was quieter than usual, but did not speak of them. Of course, there were rumors of what was taught there. Suspects were interrogated. Tortured. There were burakumin to do the actual job torturing, but still. Whatever was taught, it was not considered a lesson for young Crane samurai-ko; she was never instructed to attend. After the first few lessons, Ayase would bring Saizo tea and they would sit on a bench near the rock garden. They wouldn’t speak of what had happened.
The Crab instructor for the physical arts was convinced that Ayase, as a Crane, as a woman, as a Kakita, was not capable of meeting his exacting physical standards as a bushi, so she was kept in the dojo longer and later than anyone else. He took such times to make her feel every bit as small and inadequate as he thought she was. “So, Pretty Princess,” he would laugh at her as she struggled to climb the rope that hung from the dojo ceiling. “Why haven’t you learned to fly yet?” She almost could laugh. She’d always been the fastest in the dojo, the most athletic. She remembered the race through Tsuma village with Yasuki Kagesuro, running along the walls with careless grace. This bird could fly if you’d stop shouting at her! she thought uncharitably. But she said nothing. She had gotten her own beatings for her failures. She didn’t want another one like the one Merquri got.
At the end of the day, Ayase was weary down to her very core. That made the frequent nightly awakenings all the more difficult to bear. The lack of sleep was no excuse for weakness the following day. But, after a month of it, it took little more than that footfall she had heard to bring her to her feet, ready to act.
But this time, the door didn’t open. Maybe I’m supposed to go see? She wasn’t sure what to do, so, trying not to wake the other girls, she slipped towards the shoji screen and opened it just a crack.
There, in the shadows, she saw a familiar figure at the far end of the hallway, near where the window opened into the hot night air. As she watched, Bayushi Saizo climbed over the window ledge and disappeared into the night.
Well. Kuso.
But the next day, for Law, he was there as if nothing had happened.
Day 33 - Saizo
The Isawa is more terrified than Shiori was when he was talking to Chidori the first time.
What does it mean?
Is the pressure of this place getting to him? I’ve talked around with some older graduates, they say that suicides are rare, but it has happened before.
Trapped between your duty and your inability to succeed...maybe it’s just taking the quicker way out.
No, I...he has his kami to talk to him, he’ll be fine.
Day 35 - Ayase and Shiori
A day off...a day off. How long had it been? No..not that long. But Ayase was exhausted to the core and was struggling to remember...No. The pieces clicked into place. Only ten days ago. She’d spent it visiting the great shrine on Seppun Hill, offering her gratitude and oblations to the Kami and the Fortunes. Combined with many prayers for strength that she would survive Hida-sama’s tender ministrations.
But she was getting stronger. And, to its credit, when it came to pushing away the churning of your mind, the lack of sleep did enforce a certain fuzzy detachment that she was learning to live around. But sleep was better.
Ayase tried to push away the thoughts of sleep, however. She was going to visit Asako Shiori for the first time since she had arrived in the capital. Maybe he could show her some of the wonders in the museums. Surely there would be spectacular…. She yawned, politeness requiring her hiding the faux pas in her sleeve. Some spectacular...what was she thinking about? Right...A gift. She needed a spectacular gift for him. No, not spectacular. That would be a little much. Maybe he would like some mizuame cherries now that the cherries were in season? She went to look for some.
A merchant had them, cherries deep and blood-red, pierced by a bamboo skewer, each covered in a thick transparent glaze, gooey and clear, made by mixing rice with malt. The gem-like candies rested on a block of ice to keep the glaze from melting, though how he had procured such an extravagance, Ayase did not know. She bought a box to share and made her way to the Imperial Museum.
The Museum echoed dark and empty, a cavernous building whose entranceway proudly displayed an exotic collection of weapons, scrolls, relics and a disturbingly lifelike Samurai with his katana posed mid-swing. A small figure was cleaning the samurai with infinite care, making sure that no skin contact was made as he worked a small brush over it, tongue stuck between his teeth as he concentrated.
The Crane coughed politely and, when that didn’t seem to do anything, called out quietly. “Asako-san?”
The small figure wobbled dangerously but managed to avoid knocking over the samurai or dropping his brush as he looked over. “Kakita-Ayase-san, blessings upon you!” He carefully extracted himself from his duties and bowed low to his friend. “Are you here for the museum? Or perhaps Kuni-sama?”
Ayase’s On remained perfect. “I had come to visit you Shiori-san”
The Phoenix blinked before hiding a small smile behind his sleeve. “Well he is not as interesting as the museum but Shiori will try to do his best. Have you been blessed by Inari no kami today Ayase-san?” Tea… tea would wake her up.
“If you had any tea I would be happy to share it with you.”
“Ah then, please, please come through. My office is at the back of the building.” He led her through room after room of oddities, including more of the disturbing figures...was it just her fatigue or did they seem… real? The Phoenix seemed not to mind as he bustled into a tiny office in the back, really a store room with a window, writing desk and collection of cushions. “I shall have the tea ready in but a moment”. He lit a small stove underneath a battered kettle.
Wait… she had… a gift for him. Ayase thrust the box towards Shiori. “Please, take this gift to express my happiness in seeing you again.”
*Several refusals later*
“Very well Asako-san, I promise to share if you will accept.” Cherries and tea were distributed; they sat in companionable silence for some time.
“And you simply must tell me about how your studies are progressing in the Ruby Dojo, this one imagines they are quite rigorous”
*A short time later*
“Well… that… is… errh, clearly to help you become the best Yoriki, I am sure Hida-sama’s plan is foolproof.” Privately Shiori reflected it sounded like their instructors came from a similar school of negative reinforcement. Clearly it was his duty to distract the Kakita to more pleasant subjects for a least a few hours. “We actually have quite a fine collection of Emerald Magistrate memorabilia, as Imperial servants they are often willing to donate items from their cases…..”
After about thirty minutes he realised Ayase was not so much listening with rapt attention as she was snoring quietly, having fallen asleep, teacup in hand. Shiori sighed but, as he observed his fellow samurai, the young lady was clearly exhausted, maybe even beyond exhausted. Well, she can hear his stories later. For now… he satisfied himself with plucking her undrunk tea so she won’t spill it and quietly leaving the Kakita to some well earned rest in his office…. He still had floors to mop after all.
Day 40 - Saizo
To finish training, apparently we will need to execute a criminal. I feel oddly blase about that, but I don’t know if I should tell Ayase and Merquri about it….probably not, they’d just get in their own heads
The Isawa is more terrified than Shiori was when he was talking to Chidori the first time.
What does it mean?
Is the pressure of this place getting to him? I’ve talked around with some older graduates, they say that suicides are rare, but it has happened before.
Trapped between your duty and your inability to succeed...maybe it’s just taking the quicker way out.
No, I...he has his kami to talk to him, he’ll be fine.
Day 35 - Ayase and Shiori
A day off...a day off. How long had it been? No..not that long. But Ayase was exhausted to the core and was struggling to remember...No. The pieces clicked into place. Only ten days ago. She’d spent it visiting the great shrine on Seppun Hill, offering her gratitude and oblations to the Kami and the Fortunes. Combined with many prayers for strength that she would survive Hida-sama’s tender ministrations.
But she was getting stronger. And, to its credit, when it came to pushing away the churning of your mind, the lack of sleep did enforce a certain fuzzy detachment that she was learning to live around. But sleep was better.
Ayase tried to push away the thoughts of sleep, however. She was going to visit Asako Shiori for the first time since she had arrived in the capital. Maybe he could show her some of the wonders in the museums. Surely there would be spectacular…. She yawned, politeness requiring her hiding the faux pas in her sleeve. Some spectacular...what was she thinking about? Right...A gift. She needed a spectacular gift for him. No, not spectacular. That would be a little much. Maybe he would like some mizuame cherries now that the cherries were in season? She went to look for some.
A merchant had them, cherries deep and blood-red, pierced by a bamboo skewer, each covered in a thick transparent glaze, gooey and clear, made by mixing rice with malt. The gem-like candies rested on a block of ice to keep the glaze from melting, though how he had procured such an extravagance, Ayase did not know. She bought a box to share and made her way to the Imperial Museum.
The Museum echoed dark and empty, a cavernous building whose entranceway proudly displayed an exotic collection of weapons, scrolls, relics and a disturbingly lifelike Samurai with his katana posed mid-swing. A small figure was cleaning the samurai with infinite care, making sure that no skin contact was made as he worked a small brush over it, tongue stuck between his teeth as he concentrated.
The Crane coughed politely and, when that didn’t seem to do anything, called out quietly. “Asako-san?”
The small figure wobbled dangerously but managed to avoid knocking over the samurai or dropping his brush as he looked over. “Kakita-Ayase-san, blessings upon you!” He carefully extracted himself from his duties and bowed low to his friend. “Are you here for the museum? Or perhaps Kuni-sama?”
Ayase’s On remained perfect. “I had come to visit you Shiori-san”
The Phoenix blinked before hiding a small smile behind his sleeve. “Well he is not as interesting as the museum but Shiori will try to do his best. Have you been blessed by Inari no kami today Ayase-san?” Tea… tea would wake her up.
“If you had any tea I would be happy to share it with you.”
“Ah then, please, please come through. My office is at the back of the building.” He led her through room after room of oddities, including more of the disturbing figures...was it just her fatigue or did they seem… real? The Phoenix seemed not to mind as he bustled into a tiny office in the back, really a store room with a window, writing desk and collection of cushions. “I shall have the tea ready in but a moment”. He lit a small stove underneath a battered kettle.
Wait… she had… a gift for him. Ayase thrust the box towards Shiori. “Please, take this gift to express my happiness in seeing you again.”
*Several refusals later*
“Very well Asako-san, I promise to share if you will accept.” Cherries and tea were distributed; they sat in companionable silence for some time.
“And you simply must tell me about how your studies are progressing in the Ruby Dojo, this one imagines they are quite rigorous”
*A short time later*
“Well… that… is… errh, clearly to help you become the best Yoriki, I am sure Hida-sama’s plan is foolproof.” Privately Shiori reflected it sounded like their instructors came from a similar school of negative reinforcement. Clearly it was his duty to distract the Kakita to more pleasant subjects for a least a few hours. “We actually have quite a fine collection of Emerald Magistrate memorabilia, as Imperial servants they are often willing to donate items from their cases…..”
After about thirty minutes he realised Ayase was not so much listening with rapt attention as she was snoring quietly, having fallen asleep, teacup in hand. Shiori sighed but, as he observed his fellow samurai, the young lady was clearly exhausted, maybe even beyond exhausted. Well, she can hear his stories later. For now… he satisfied himself with plucking her undrunk tea so she won’t spill it and quietly leaving the Kakita to some well earned rest in his office…. He still had floors to mop after all.
Day 40 - Saizo
To finish training, apparently we will need to execute a criminal. I feel oddly blase about that, but I don’t know if I should tell Ayase and Merquri about it….probably not, they’d just get in their own heads
Day 40 - Shiori
Shiori’s bokken came tantalisingly close to Atsumichi’s neck before he felt a thundering impact in his gut from his teacher’s own blade. To the Phoenix’s credit he was able to stifle a whimper of pain, and he hadn’t eaten before the lesson because of this very possibility. “Good” The Shiba stepped back and regarded his student. “Had we been using real blades you might well have been able to strike me a mortal blow in return before you bled to death…. ‘Might’”
Well, Shiori wasn’t complaining, it was the closest he’d come to winning a bout with his sensei in the last 5 weeks. “Thank you Shiba-sensei, if this one may, he would say his footwork was off, too much weight on the front foot,he could not shift to dodge his instructor’s strike.”
Atsumichi just looked at him neutrally for a few moments before nodding. “Exactly. Come, we will go again.” The fought 6 more mock duels that afternoon and although Shiori never came as close as he had in the first one, he sensed that just maybe, he was beginning to get somewhere.
Day 45 - Merquri
To think he had once thought his training would get easier after the incident with “Doji” Sensei. If anything it got even more difficult. How lessons in things he already knew stopped immediately. Instead he attended lessons with Doji-sensei. He was the only one there, not even the Isawa attended them, which was strange: the senseis always treated him better than Merquri. But here he was, learning things no one should know, not without staining their souls. Ghosts, Oni, Maho, the worst things a magistrate could encounter, and Doji-sensei showed him their secrets.
The apologies continued as well, even more scrutinized if anything. The delivery had to be just right, all points addressed, or bokey gave him quite a bruising. He was glad he'd learned how to focus his rage at something more appropriate. His Sensei had taught that to him young, after his father died. Better to hate Jigoku then the Kuni who’d held the blade after all.
Then there were the tests. He was brought to crime scenes, seeing the dead bodies of those who were killed. He was told to tell Doji-sensei what happened, only allowed to use the kami if he was sure it was a supernatural cause. The first time he tried calling on them when it wasn't supernatural, Doji-sensei broke his hand. He didn't mess up after that. When he was right, the Doji smiled; when he was wrong, she told him what he missed and looked disappointed in him. For Merquri, those smiles brought more happiness than his hats; the disappointed looks hurt him more than any hit from bokey.
She once asked him if he wanted to know her real name. He had said no. After that day she started having him purify crime scenes. Once she left a chop on her desk and left him alone in the room as she went to fetch something. It has taken all his willpower to not see who it was, but he didn't end up looking at it. She started teaching him about Maho after that.
And there were the standard shugenja duties as well. Purification rituals performed on executioners, daily prayer to the kami, taking care of the dojo's shrine. He once purified Saizo after an interrogation gone wrong. He didn't know why Saizo didn't like him. He always seemed off when Merquri was around, and that day in particular he never looked him in the eyes. He hoped he hadn't somehow offended the Scorpion, but if he had, Saizo had never told him about it.
His duties were gross, the stench of blood and offal, staring at corpses, walking through blood stained rooms. But nothing prepared him for the Isawa.
He woke up to the sound of screaming. He wasn't the first to rise, but he was the first to reach the sound. He ran as fast as water would take him, and found the door to the armory, one of the few doors that could actually be locked. The screams were filled with pain but getting weaker. Merquri slammed into the door, but while it was not locked, something had been used to barricade it. Merquri slammed into it again, once, twice, and finally with the strength of the tide he burst through.
The Isawa was twitching on the ground, wearing the white robes of seppuku. Not that Merquri could tell, the boy’s blood was everywhere. The wakizashi lay some feet away from the boy, where he must have thrown it after stabbing himself. The Isawa was still screaming at the pain, desperately trying to hold his guts in, blood pouring out of his mouth. Merquri ran to him, kneeling in the blood pooling around the boy. The boy grabbed Merquri by the kimono, his eyes filled with desperation and fear. “Help me” he pleaded weakly.
Merquri, hands stained with blood, reached for the scroll to save him. He pulled it open, said the words, intoned to the kami, bringing one hand up, and then forcefully tried to bring it down into the boy to heal him before he died.
And then he felt a hand catch his own, and stop the spell.
He looked up in shock to see the face of Doji-sensei looking at him, a small twinge of sadness to her eyes. But not sadness towards the boy who was dying. No. It was directed towards Merquri.
“He's already shamed his ancestors enough with his screaming. You can't shame them more by letting him live. He would be executed for his failure. I'm sorry Merquri. All you can do now is end it.”.
She pressed an item into his hand. A knife. Tradition demanded he be silenced by decapitation. But that wasn't going to happen, they weren't going to get the boy in a position where they could do it. Not with his struggling. But he could make the boy perform Jigai. He had slit the throats of animals before. They did so to the herd animals to prevent them struggling. It was quick, relatively painless even. And she was right. He hated her more then anything in that moment, but she was right.
The boy struggled and begged, but he was weak, and Merquri was strong. He forced the knife into his hand, forcing him to cut his own throat. The knife was sharp, going through the flesh easily. He lasted only 3 seconds after that. The bo’ys eyes were filled with blood, fear, and desperation on his passing. Merquri's were filled with only tears.
Shiori’s bokken came tantalisingly close to Atsumichi’s neck before he felt a thundering impact in his gut from his teacher’s own blade. To the Phoenix’s credit he was able to stifle a whimper of pain, and he hadn’t eaten before the lesson because of this very possibility. “Good” The Shiba stepped back and regarded his student. “Had we been using real blades you might well have been able to strike me a mortal blow in return before you bled to death…. ‘Might’”
Well, Shiori wasn’t complaining, it was the closest he’d come to winning a bout with his sensei in the last 5 weeks. “Thank you Shiba-sensei, if this one may, he would say his footwork was off, too much weight on the front foot,he could not shift to dodge his instructor’s strike.”
Atsumichi just looked at him neutrally for a few moments before nodding. “Exactly. Come, we will go again.” The fought 6 more mock duels that afternoon and although Shiori never came as close as he had in the first one, he sensed that just maybe, he was beginning to get somewhere.
Day 45 - Merquri
To think he had once thought his training would get easier after the incident with “Doji” Sensei. If anything it got even more difficult. How lessons in things he already knew stopped immediately. Instead he attended lessons with Doji-sensei. He was the only one there, not even the Isawa attended them, which was strange: the senseis always treated him better than Merquri. But here he was, learning things no one should know, not without staining their souls. Ghosts, Oni, Maho, the worst things a magistrate could encounter, and Doji-sensei showed him their secrets.
The apologies continued as well, even more scrutinized if anything. The delivery had to be just right, all points addressed, or bokey gave him quite a bruising. He was glad he'd learned how to focus his rage at something more appropriate. His Sensei had taught that to him young, after his father died. Better to hate Jigoku then the Kuni who’d held the blade after all.
Then there were the tests. He was brought to crime scenes, seeing the dead bodies of those who were killed. He was told to tell Doji-sensei what happened, only allowed to use the kami if he was sure it was a supernatural cause. The first time he tried calling on them when it wasn't supernatural, Doji-sensei broke his hand. He didn't mess up after that. When he was right, the Doji smiled; when he was wrong, she told him what he missed and looked disappointed in him. For Merquri, those smiles brought more happiness than his hats; the disappointed looks hurt him more than any hit from bokey.
She once asked him if he wanted to know her real name. He had said no. After that day she started having him purify crime scenes. Once she left a chop on her desk and left him alone in the room as she went to fetch something. It has taken all his willpower to not see who it was, but he didn't end up looking at it. She started teaching him about Maho after that.
And there were the standard shugenja duties as well. Purification rituals performed on executioners, daily prayer to the kami, taking care of the dojo's shrine. He once purified Saizo after an interrogation gone wrong. He didn't know why Saizo didn't like him. He always seemed off when Merquri was around, and that day in particular he never looked him in the eyes. He hoped he hadn't somehow offended the Scorpion, but if he had, Saizo had never told him about it.
His duties were gross, the stench of blood and offal, staring at corpses, walking through blood stained rooms. But nothing prepared him for the Isawa.
He woke up to the sound of screaming. He wasn't the first to rise, but he was the first to reach the sound. He ran as fast as water would take him, and found the door to the armory, one of the few doors that could actually be locked. The screams were filled with pain but getting weaker. Merquri slammed into the door, but while it was not locked, something had been used to barricade it. Merquri slammed into it again, once, twice, and finally with the strength of the tide he burst through.
The Isawa was twitching on the ground, wearing the white robes of seppuku. Not that Merquri could tell, the boy’s blood was everywhere. The wakizashi lay some feet away from the boy, where he must have thrown it after stabbing himself. The Isawa was still screaming at the pain, desperately trying to hold his guts in, blood pouring out of his mouth. Merquri ran to him, kneeling in the blood pooling around the boy. The boy grabbed Merquri by the kimono, his eyes filled with desperation and fear. “Help me” he pleaded weakly.
Merquri, hands stained with blood, reached for the scroll to save him. He pulled it open, said the words, intoned to the kami, bringing one hand up, and then forcefully tried to bring it down into the boy to heal him before he died.
And then he felt a hand catch his own, and stop the spell.
He looked up in shock to see the face of Doji-sensei looking at him, a small twinge of sadness to her eyes. But not sadness towards the boy who was dying. No. It was directed towards Merquri.
“He's already shamed his ancestors enough with his screaming. You can't shame them more by letting him live. He would be executed for his failure. I'm sorry Merquri. All you can do now is end it.”.
She pressed an item into his hand. A knife. Tradition demanded he be silenced by decapitation. But that wasn't going to happen, they weren't going to get the boy in a position where they could do it. Not with his struggling. But he could make the boy perform Jigai. He had slit the throats of animals before. They did so to the herd animals to prevent them struggling. It was quick, relatively painless even. And she was right. He hated her more then anything in that moment, but she was right.
The boy struggled and begged, but he was weak, and Merquri was strong. He forced the knife into his hand, forcing him to cut his own throat. The knife was sharp, going through the flesh easily. He lasted only 3 seconds after that. The bo’ys eyes were filled with blood, fear, and desperation on his passing. Merquri's were filled with only tears.
Day 45 - Ayase
There was another footstep in the hallway...the lightest brush, but it was enough to wake Ayase from her slumber on her futon near the door. She quickly arose, unsure if it would be another late-night study session. But no one entered. Was Saizo-san creeping out the window again? She cracked the shoji screen to see.
No. Not Saizo. The Isawa Shugenja...Isawa Ogai, his name was….was creeping down the hall, looking nervously over his shoulder as he went. Ayase’s eyes narrowed, but, considering she hadn’t told on Saizo’s sneaking out in the night, she didn’t think to raise an alarm. They weren’t assigned to monitor each others’ actions. A small mercy, that. She turned and lay back down on her futon. Less than a minute later, she was asleep again.
Then came the scream, ripping through the hallways and across the paper-thin walls of the dojo. Ayase was up at once, her hand on the tsuka of Chōetsu, springing to her feet. She was to the screen a heartbeat later. Never draw your sword unless you intend to kill....She gripped the sheathed blade tightly. Something made a loud crashing sound. Was that Iuchi-san shouting? He sounds like he’s near the armory. She ran for the stairs. Around her, other students were waking with confused questions and shoji screens were coming open, but Ayase ignored them, focusing on the sound of Merquri’s voice.
When she reached the armory hall, the door at the far end had been broken open.
“Stop, Ayase!” It was Bayushi Saizo; she felt his touch on her shoulder. Ayase paused just long enough to call back to him, “Someone’s been attacked! We need to rescue them!”
A splash of blood spurted beyond the door and into the hallway, and Ayase could hear Merquri’s chanting. She shifted her grip to prepare to draw on the unknown attacker. The stairs behind her filled with the sound of footsteps
“You are ordered are to remain here.” Seppun Izumi barked the order in a voice as cold as ice, right at her shoulder. That made her freeze in her tracks.
“But…”
Seppun-sensei did not answer. She, and another Sensei of the Doji family, whom Ayase had seen for some of the tests and seemed to generally work with the shugenja, swept past her and into the Armory. Merquri stopped chanting, and she could hear the soft voice of the Doji speaking, while the unknown one who screamed begged for help.
Then everything was silent.
She stood, helpless, in the hallway as Merquri was led away, covered in blood, his face sick with horror. Helpless as the burakumin came with cloths and carried out the body of the frail Isawa. Helpless as she could overhear the sensei ordering the other students of the Ruby Dojo to their beds.
Finally, Seppun Izumi returned to her. Her dark eyes evaluated the Kakita carefully; Ayase did not dare move.
Then, she arched her elegant eyebrow and asked with frosty menace, “But….?”
The hurt Ayase earned for that single word did not fade, long after the bruises from the beating she received the next day did.
Day 46 - Merquri
He'd spent the rest of the night purifying himself. He couldn't sleep that night, and couldn't find peace in meditation either. In the morning he was informed he had been given the dubious honor of purifying the armory after the night’s incident. He knew Doji-sensei was behind this, and while he didn't want to enter that room again, he knew he needed that closure, so he was grateful.
The purification was more complicated than he thought. It had happened in the armory, and all the weapons needed to be purified as well; after all, the Isawa's blood had gotten everywhere. Each one cleansed, evil spirits banished, and then brought out of the room. It took hours, and by the end he was exhausted. He felt like he would collapse at any moment. As he finished the last weapon and finished purifying the room, the servants started bringing all the weapons back into the room. Merquri just waited, deciding to take the moments of them bringing in the weaponry to rest. As the last sword was placed on the rack, he stood and began to exit the room.
He felt a hand come down hard on his shoulder and felt himself being spun around with force. As he looked at his attacker, he blanched with fright. Before him stood the Isawa. His guts hung out of the hole cut in his pure white robes. His translucent form shivered in rage, the knife used to slit his throat still embedded in how neck, a facsimile of Merquri's own hands around the hilt. The spirit grabbed Merquri by the collar of his robes.
“YOU KILLED ME!!” It screamed in a voice impossible for a human to make. It then hoisted him up and chucked him at the back wall. Merquri smashed into the weapons rack, falling to the ground as sheathed weapons clattered on top of him. The servants screamed in fright and ran.
The spirit raced forward and hauled him up from the floor, smashing him into the back wall again, this time holding him off the ground while doing so. “YOU'RE NOT BETTER THAN ME. YOU CAN'T BE BETTER THAN ME. TAKEN TO PRIVATE LESSONS BARRED FROM ME? AND YOUR CLAN WOULDN'T EVEN SPARE YOU FROM PUNISHMENT? WHY? THEY WERE HELPING YOU RIGHT? FOUND BETTER LEVERAGE? TELL ME!!!!”
Things began to click in Merquri's mind. The boy had been weak. Like him, he'd gotten his appointment through political leverage. Unlike him he wasn't cut out for it. The senseis ignored him, not because they liked him, but because they were forced to. He hadn't learned the secrets because he couldn't be trusted. And now, even in death, his weakness carried over. He couldn't accept his failure, and took it out on others. Merquri could tell him this, tell him he was a failure.
But the truth wouldn't set him free. And he'd been learning how to appease others since he got here.
“YES. Yes they did. They found the leverage. You were always better than me. I could never have reached your heights. I'm sorry.”.
The spirit looked in his eyes, searching for lies. But the Isawa was as unperceptive in death as he was in life. He dropped Merquri to a heap on the floor. The spirit stepped back, and he began to flake apart. “Yes. I was better than you. I was better than you.”. The Isawa repeated to himself the same sentence over and over till nothing was left of him.
Catching his breath, Merquri looked up, and spotted two people standing at the door frame. Seppun-sensei stood sword drawn, with Doji-sensei standing behind her. Seppun-sensei slowly sheathed her sword, while Doji-sensei gave him over if those smiles he valued so much.
“Good job Iuchi-san. You've prevented this dojo from being haunted. You can take today and tomorrow off due to your service.” Seppun-sensei told him, as she turned to leave the room. “After you purify the room again of course. A ghost was just here after all.”.
There was another footstep in the hallway...the lightest brush, but it was enough to wake Ayase from her slumber on her futon near the door. She quickly arose, unsure if it would be another late-night study session. But no one entered. Was Saizo-san creeping out the window again? She cracked the shoji screen to see.
No. Not Saizo. The Isawa Shugenja...Isawa Ogai, his name was….was creeping down the hall, looking nervously over his shoulder as he went. Ayase’s eyes narrowed, but, considering she hadn’t told on Saizo’s sneaking out in the night, she didn’t think to raise an alarm. They weren’t assigned to monitor each others’ actions. A small mercy, that. She turned and lay back down on her futon. Less than a minute later, she was asleep again.
Then came the scream, ripping through the hallways and across the paper-thin walls of the dojo. Ayase was up at once, her hand on the tsuka of Chōetsu, springing to her feet. She was to the screen a heartbeat later. Never draw your sword unless you intend to kill....She gripped the sheathed blade tightly. Something made a loud crashing sound. Was that Iuchi-san shouting? He sounds like he’s near the armory. She ran for the stairs. Around her, other students were waking with confused questions and shoji screens were coming open, but Ayase ignored them, focusing on the sound of Merquri’s voice.
When she reached the armory hall, the door at the far end had been broken open.
“Stop, Ayase!” It was Bayushi Saizo; she felt his touch on her shoulder. Ayase paused just long enough to call back to him, “Someone’s been attacked! We need to rescue them!”
A splash of blood spurted beyond the door and into the hallway, and Ayase could hear Merquri’s chanting. She shifted her grip to prepare to draw on the unknown attacker. The stairs behind her filled with the sound of footsteps
“You are ordered are to remain here.” Seppun Izumi barked the order in a voice as cold as ice, right at her shoulder. That made her freeze in her tracks.
“But…”
Seppun-sensei did not answer. She, and another Sensei of the Doji family, whom Ayase had seen for some of the tests and seemed to generally work with the shugenja, swept past her and into the Armory. Merquri stopped chanting, and she could hear the soft voice of the Doji speaking, while the unknown one who screamed begged for help.
Then everything was silent.
She stood, helpless, in the hallway as Merquri was led away, covered in blood, his face sick with horror. Helpless as the burakumin came with cloths and carried out the body of the frail Isawa. Helpless as she could overhear the sensei ordering the other students of the Ruby Dojo to their beds.
Finally, Seppun Izumi returned to her. Her dark eyes evaluated the Kakita carefully; Ayase did not dare move.
Then, she arched her elegant eyebrow and asked with frosty menace, “But….?”
The hurt Ayase earned for that single word did not fade, long after the bruises from the beating she received the next day did.
Day 46 - Merquri
He'd spent the rest of the night purifying himself. He couldn't sleep that night, and couldn't find peace in meditation either. In the morning he was informed he had been given the dubious honor of purifying the armory after the night’s incident. He knew Doji-sensei was behind this, and while he didn't want to enter that room again, he knew he needed that closure, so he was grateful.
The purification was more complicated than he thought. It had happened in the armory, and all the weapons needed to be purified as well; after all, the Isawa's blood had gotten everywhere. Each one cleansed, evil spirits banished, and then brought out of the room. It took hours, and by the end he was exhausted. He felt like he would collapse at any moment. As he finished the last weapon and finished purifying the room, the servants started bringing all the weapons back into the room. Merquri just waited, deciding to take the moments of them bringing in the weaponry to rest. As the last sword was placed on the rack, he stood and began to exit the room.
He felt a hand come down hard on his shoulder and felt himself being spun around with force. As he looked at his attacker, he blanched with fright. Before him stood the Isawa. His guts hung out of the hole cut in his pure white robes. His translucent form shivered in rage, the knife used to slit his throat still embedded in how neck, a facsimile of Merquri's own hands around the hilt. The spirit grabbed Merquri by the collar of his robes.
“YOU KILLED ME!!” It screamed in a voice impossible for a human to make. It then hoisted him up and chucked him at the back wall. Merquri smashed into the weapons rack, falling to the ground as sheathed weapons clattered on top of him. The servants screamed in fright and ran.
The spirit raced forward and hauled him up from the floor, smashing him into the back wall again, this time holding him off the ground while doing so. “YOU'RE NOT BETTER THAN ME. YOU CAN'T BE BETTER THAN ME. TAKEN TO PRIVATE LESSONS BARRED FROM ME? AND YOUR CLAN WOULDN'T EVEN SPARE YOU FROM PUNISHMENT? WHY? THEY WERE HELPING YOU RIGHT? FOUND BETTER LEVERAGE? TELL ME!!!!”
Things began to click in Merquri's mind. The boy had been weak. Like him, he'd gotten his appointment through political leverage. Unlike him he wasn't cut out for it. The senseis ignored him, not because they liked him, but because they were forced to. He hadn't learned the secrets because he couldn't be trusted. And now, even in death, his weakness carried over. He couldn't accept his failure, and took it out on others. Merquri could tell him this, tell him he was a failure.
But the truth wouldn't set him free. And he'd been learning how to appease others since he got here.
“YES. Yes they did. They found the leverage. You were always better than me. I could never have reached your heights. I'm sorry.”.
The spirit looked in his eyes, searching for lies. But the Isawa was as unperceptive in death as he was in life. He dropped Merquri to a heap on the floor. The spirit stepped back, and he began to flake apart. “Yes. I was better than you. I was better than you.”. The Isawa repeated to himself the same sentence over and over till nothing was left of him.
Catching his breath, Merquri looked up, and spotted two people standing at the door frame. Seppun-sensei stood sword drawn, with Doji-sensei standing behind her. Seppun-sensei slowly sheathed her sword, while Doji-sensei gave him over if those smiles he valued so much.
“Good job Iuchi-san. You've prevented this dojo from being haunted. You can take today and tomorrow off due to your service.” Seppun-sensei told him, as she turned to leave the room. “After you purify the room again of course. A ghost was just here after all.”.
Day 46 - Ayase
Ayase stopped mid-form. Hida-sensei was again working her late into the evening, making no pretense of hiding his boredom as she moved through her kata. Every part of her body burned from her earlier beating. The bruises on her arms and legs under her kimono had turned deep purple. But no amount of damage would serve as an excuse to move through the techniques less than perfectly.
But that icy touch of fear lay its cold finger on the back of her neck and she froze in place.
She could hear, distantly, the sound of Hida Junnosuke shouting at her, his angry face pushing close to her own. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It should have been the blood, the horror of the night before that made her afraid. But..
It’s cold. So cold. The sound of leaves rustling around her. The moonlight through the branches. The slender hands whose touch slowed heart and smothered will into the milky cocoon of…
Her teeth clicked together as Junnosuke grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
She slowly lifted her mismatched eyes to meet his, to utter one word.
“Mother?”
Then it was gone; the momentary memory past. Hida-sensei released her and took a step back, narrowing his eyes and examining her carefully, as if he had never seen her before. She swallowed and tried to resume her form from where she had left off, feeling the pressure as he rubbed his broad chin.
Ayase expected to be punished again at the end of the kata, but instead she was sent to her room to lie down, which she gratefully, and gingerly, did. Sleep quickly found her.
But in her sleep, dancing through her nightmares, she could hear the sound of a woman singing, a song she never remembered hearing before.
Ayase stopped mid-form. Hida-sensei was again working her late into the evening, making no pretense of hiding his boredom as she moved through her kata. Every part of her body burned from her earlier beating. The bruises on her arms and legs under her kimono had turned deep purple. But no amount of damage would serve as an excuse to move through the techniques less than perfectly.
But that icy touch of fear lay its cold finger on the back of her neck and she froze in place.
She could hear, distantly, the sound of Hida Junnosuke shouting at her, his angry face pushing close to her own. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It should have been the blood, the horror of the night before that made her afraid. But..
It’s cold. So cold. The sound of leaves rustling around her. The moonlight through the branches. The slender hands whose touch slowed heart and smothered will into the milky cocoon of…
Her teeth clicked together as Junnosuke grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
She slowly lifted her mismatched eyes to meet his, to utter one word.
“Mother?”
Then it was gone; the momentary memory past. Hida-sensei released her and took a step back, narrowing his eyes and examining her carefully, as if he had never seen her before. She swallowed and tried to resume her form from where she had left off, feeling the pressure as he rubbed his broad chin.
Ayase expected to be punished again at the end of the kata, but instead she was sent to her room to lie down, which she gratefully, and gingerly, did. Sleep quickly found her.
But in her sleep, dancing through her nightmares, she could hear the sound of a woman singing, a song she never remembered hearing before.
But sleep, little pigeon,
And fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon
With mournful eyes;
Am I not singing? --
See, I am swinging --
Swinging the nest
Where my darling lies.
And fold your wings,
Little blue pigeon
With mournful eyes;
Am I not singing? --
See, I am swinging --
Swinging the nest
Where my darling lies.
Day 46 - Saizo
I could have stopped it. I convinced myself that nothing was going to go wrong because he had the kami, that being able to talk literally to the world and have it answer would provide strength enough for the Isawa to finish the training and go on to be thoroughly mediocre in whatever the Phoenix equivalent of the Sparrow Lands are.
I could have stopped it, but didn’t. But, does that make it my responsibility? I swore no oath to him, no promise to friends, nothing. I knew him, but does that mean I was in charge of saving him? The question bothered me, more than I cared to admit. Even as almost robotically I spotted the suspect’s tell even before the torture and passed it on.
I never believed that the gods would save us, that we could only save ourselves. The Isawa lacked the strength for that. Maybe it was better this way than yet another corrupt magistrate. I mean I am too but at least I can lie to myself and say it’s for a purpose. I can lie to myself and say I can handle what happened.
I always have.
Ayase and Merquri aren’t taking it well...I’m not taking it well. I’m supposed to meet with Nanashi tomorrow, I’ll see if I can get directions to a good drinking place. Sensei always said that the Samurai way to deal with trauma was to get drunk.
I could have stopped it. I convinced myself that nothing was going to go wrong because he had the kami, that being able to talk literally to the world and have it answer would provide strength enough for the Isawa to finish the training and go on to be thoroughly mediocre in whatever the Phoenix equivalent of the Sparrow Lands are.
I could have stopped it, but didn’t. But, does that make it my responsibility? I swore no oath to him, no promise to friends, nothing. I knew him, but does that mean I was in charge of saving him? The question bothered me, more than I cared to admit. Even as almost robotically I spotted the suspect’s tell even before the torture and passed it on.
I never believed that the gods would save us, that we could only save ourselves. The Isawa lacked the strength for that. Maybe it was better this way than yet another corrupt magistrate. I mean I am too but at least I can lie to myself and say it’s for a purpose. I can lie to myself and say I can handle what happened.
I always have.
Ayase and Merquri aren’t taking it well...I’m not taking it well. I’m supposed to meet with Nanashi tomorrow, I’ll see if I can get directions to a good drinking place. Sensei always said that the Samurai way to deal with trauma was to get drunk.