四

It was evening, but the opulent sun was still graced the sky with its luminous bright. With a soft smile, I thought about the Sun Goddess, who wanted to see the world for slightly longer a time tonight. It was a good omen.

Karin was still asleep in her room, too disheartened by news of the recent torture of the shinobi to do anything for now. The decaying man was now chained in a dungeon without food or water, only damp and polished bones of rats as his companions, bleeding a pool of sordid blood. As anticipated, he did not give anything away even after his every remaining finger was slowly cut off. Shigeo did not say anything about the man’s origins either, so I did not reveal them as well, although I was wary. Despite my determination to question him about this, I had never got a chance, the two of us always accompanied either by Karin or the guards. But now that we were training together, I would not miss this opportunity.

The training ground was well-swept and smelled of wet earth after a rejuvenating rain. I probed the soil with my foot; it was somewhat wet, easily sliding me across the place. Perfect for my fighting style. Shigeo, on the other hand, seemed aggravated, the emotion given away with his, “Tch.”He used power, stability as well as speed, out of which only the first one was available, and his fingers twitched in irritation as he wrapped them around the handle of his sword. I only saw a flash of the blade, after which several grass stems were halved into tender white and rough yellow parts, flying in the air before slowly settling back.

 Carefully, I shifted my weight to my hands and circled the space, turning around to prepare my muscles for a spar. Although slick, the ground was sturdy, good enough for me to perform most of my attacks.

Both Shigeo and I heard a child’s breathing at the same time. Lightly, I returned to my feet, seeking the person before she left the shadows of the trees herself. The child was not much over nine winters, and quite slight for her age, however, her body was lean and strong, reminding of a young oak tree.  Her hand remained shyly on the bark of the maple, the quiet, watchful eyes following us. I bent to her eye level, placing my palm on my knee to support the weight, and outstretched my right hand to her. Uncomfortably, she took it, her small hand encircling around mine.

“What are you called, little one?” I asked.

With a smile, she continued burrowing me with her stare. “Chou.”

She looked nothing like a fragile butterfly. A brackish smell hit me. The vague feeling of Chou clinging to me and the distant noises spun me around in the dissembled world of soft cotton, until I could no longer fight its lure.

 

 

My head was heavy; I could not determine whether I was north or south, which very definitely meant I felt dizzy. Gathering my strength, which seemed to have scattered in various parts of my body, I tried to sit. It was a foolhardy decision�"I was already settled on the polished wooden floor, and the motion only made me fall. I managed to catch myself before my face was caressed by the ground, though. My function was returning, even if excruciatingly leisurely.

I stared in the space before me. The room was very rich, elegantly decorated with a small amount of beautiful furniture and many delightful paintings so utterly genuine, the animals and birds were about to come out and run in the wild. Despite my situation, I managed to adulate my marvellous cornucopia of a confinement. Now, it was about time to escape. After another second, I also discovered I was not chained to a wall, my limbs were not wrapped by metal shackles, and I seemed to be well, if the mediocre drugged state was to be put aside. But in a moment, I saw a man in his late four decades sitting across me, a tea cup in his hands. Another one was on the golden-brown table, whose many bountiful patterns were delusive like dreams on a haze. It seemed like its creator’s aspiration was to make a regal hypnotism in place of svelte furniture.

A sliding door was aghast, pale moon swimming across the dark night sky, accompanied if not obscured by gloomy clouds. The gentle light made everything seem surreal, turning the shadows blacker than sleep, the deep complexity of shapes accentuated by the contrast. Wish to flee surfaced as I attempted to rise, but my legs would not submit to my will, probably paralysed by the deterrent of a man’s presence. My pouch of throwing knives and stars was not attached to my leg, all smoke bombs gone too; I felt so bare and vulnerable. The moon continued to glide across the night, not at all troubled, as if indulging my impasse.

The man was not specifically old, although many mishaps of past had protruded their smear on his brown face, wrinkles ossifying themselves into an image of syllogism and modicum of benevolence. His robe was the one usually worn in a house during autumn, the colour too bright in comparison to his face. Narrow yellow eyes were lined with carrion red, and the smell of tobacco on his fingers added to the image of utter foulness, so opposite to the lovely room. An epithet for his appearance was probably slaughtered in a duel with ugliness, and then exterminated again and again after it was dead. Returning to my dilemma�"I held no knowledge as of where I was or how I got there, although I suspected it was Chou that had abducted me.

My brain still registered things sluggishly, but I knew I should not touch the strange liquid, especially after the stranger urged me to drink it. “Who are you?”

“A Koga.” The man took a sip of his tea again. “Do not worry- the tea is not poisoned. It would do me no good to kill you just yet, however much I may contempt you.”

The man had made a shrewd point�"if he inclined me dead, he would have slain me while I was unconscious. The situation was not in my favour�"bargaining would be senseless�" so I wordlessly raised the cup to my mouth. The smell was unpleasant; I let the detrimental liquid wet my lips, deniably hoping it was only green tea. The drink had a sordid aftertaste, and it felt shadily like the aroma I sensed before I fell asleep. Before I knew, the vertigo returned, now more durable than before.

“How do you like this brew?”

I tried to focus, but everything still was aloof and warm. “Let me see… I really hate you, Koga.”

The hiatus between noises was glutted with euphemism. The man was jaded soon, starting a conversation to amuse himself. Throttled into tedium myself, I immersed in it, in optimism of extracting some profits before the Koga’s indisputable demise. It was a question of time before the drug wore off, but until it happened, I was careful not to irate the patriotic Koga, but to gull him into letting me extricate information.

Perspicacious, I put my sycophant mask on, pretending to be fearful, but making sure my look remained callous, not a ramshackle. After all, every shinobi is expected to trick and deceive, and by allowing my emotions to show, I would seem an inexperienced kunoichi. The Koga certainly was only a man with little skill, unsuitable for espionage and battles, but it would be stupid to underestimate.

“As you can see, Koga are more worthy to hold the title of the strongest clan. Chou managed to abduct you; she could have killed, if ordered, while you Iga don’t command this until thirteen years of age.” His abysmal skill of finessing words into chocking threads did me no harm, therefore unable to bring him entertainment. How fortunate. I got an impeccable chance to learn about the two clans, but the man must not discern my unfamiliarity of shinobi.

“This is because we care about our children,” I countered softly, “and you simply crave for power and title, instead of worshipping your people, who merit deference.”

He chuckled, his yellowed teeth protruding from his withered lips like rusty needles from a pad. I wondered if they would break just as easily. “It is you that try to control the land, Iga. Your leader even slipped a piece in Hashiji’s household, while it was originally our precedent.”

Iga coveted the quixotic rule, it seemed. It was of no surprise to me, for our land, although acclaimed to be at its most prosperous, was constantly reminded of disasters such as famine, droughts, floods and many rebellions, which were quelled quick with shinobi and soldiers. Such things seemed an altercation compared to the events yet to unfold in stipulation of the Iga supremacy. Many of the clan said they would right our world, but I did not succumb to delusion�"there would be grisly war.

The Hashiji had many men and lands, as well as influence. Moreover, the head of the once great clan was already old; with his many sons, his brothers and his other relatives, the Hashiji were in upheaval for their own power, therefore blind to the world. I would wish there to be kind and infallible youth to take over as the successor, like in the legends, where a true ruler would be blessed and marked by heaven, but such a metamorphosis was impossible. All men were tainted by greed and claimed by hate. None were free. Using the current coalition, there was more chances for the Iga to overtake the clan through Shigeo�" the oldest male�" and later one of the four powerful warlords.

I could do nothing to stop, although a part of me, the Iwasaki little girl who now lay forgotten in my body, ached to tell about the Iga’s true intention to her mother, who would stop the bad people with ease. I turned back to my past, where I was loved and raised a noble warrior’s daughter, then the Takahashi castle servant girl. I had thought I had moved on, but still, past haunted me like a savage ghost, memories surfacing now and then. In a simpler world of black and white, Iga and Koga were evil, while the warrior clans were good. However plaintive the thought may be, I was a villain, and the exceeding one at that.

The man fell silent, seemingly entranced. Minutes passed as I felt the drug gradually subside. When the Koga gave me another cup, I decided it was time to get out of this vexing ordeal, slipping my hand around his neck as I moved behind the man. My left hand joined the right in the swift breaking of a neck, the man’s own impetus driving him closer to his fate. I let his corpse drop to the ground, the Koga’s ugly face still in state of fear and shock, the neck twisted. What a gruesome sight.

I sighed and flexed my joints. Some stiffness remained, but otherwise I was fine. A quick scan of the room reported my weapons were not here, and I was defenceless in case someone attacked. The sliding door tantalized me to simply leap out and run back to Shigeo�"it would be safe whenever he was, for he was a true professional. Before I could obey my instincts, a shadow slipped through it, blocking my view for a second, followed by several others. To my dry delight, one of them was Noemi.

“Impressing,” the one in the front said; the tall man was Master Iga, the head and the strongest shinobi. Subconsciously, I slid in a bow. “You suppressed the poison before the time we calculated. “Although,” he threw a look at the Koga, who, I realised, must have been an Iga, “killing Chikara was slightly disheartening.”

Mamoru, one of the supervisors and trainers, once a glorious assassin as well, joined, “He is long of little worth, and his loyalty is questionable. Chiara told her too much. At least his death served some purpose.” The man smiled grimly at me. “Congratulations, Kaori. Your heart is truly made of ice. Of course, being carried away by Chou with such ease is shameful, considering that she is not yet a full-fledged shinobi.”

The coming-of-age ceremony was normally held at the age of thirteen, after the first kill. Of course, in my case, it was impossible for I was in the Takahashi castle due to Noemi’s secrecy. Whether on orders of her clan or not, it did not change the fact that if I was in the cognate Iga’s clan since I was given away, a decade of being a wretch would have been spent differently.

“Your ceremony will be held now, Kaori,” Noemi said gently. With an indiscreet smile, I glanced at her, but she recognised antipathy at seeing her in my eyes. Not taken aback, while marginally crestfallen, she continued, "Starting from now, you step in adulthood.”