by Nikita Thorn
Kihei turned around and disappeared again into the shop, and the other West Defenders outside were also moving in to listen.
“Did the escort quest with him earlier. Seiji, or Seiki, right?” Ippei continued.
Seiki secretly thanked his friends as he sidled along the narrow ledge. There was a short section between the windows where there was no handhold, and Seiki breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the safety of the next window.
This room he climbed into was clean, spacious and lit by a few lamps in the corners. In the middle of the floor, an old man was bending over a large piece of paper. When he saw Seiki, Master Juzou looked up and wrinkled his brow. “Young man, there’s a front door, you know?” Then he frowned at Seiki’s shoes on his tatami floor.
“Sorry,” said Seiki. “Does there happen to be a back door as well?”
Master Juzou blinked. “As a matter of fact, there is. That is a question one does not hear every day.”
Then he dipped his gigantic brush into his ink bowl and in strong, brief strokes, filled the piece of paper under him with two bold characters. Seiki chuckled as he saw that it read ‘Seiki’.
Master Juzou looked up proudly. “The art of Calligraphy, young man. Talk to me if you are interested.”
“I might be, Master Juzou,” Seiki said. “But I’m afraid not now.”
He crossed the tatami floor in as few steps as he could, apologized to the old man once more and found the stairway.
The first floor turned out to be a shop selling brushes and other Calligraphy supplies, and Master Juzou’s niece Otsu behind the counter kindly pointed Seiki toward the back door. He turned right on the street as Mairin had instructed and looked for a lane on the left.
Around the corner behind him, some of the lower-level West Defenders clan members could be seen walking along in a casual group. “Why are we even doing this?” asked one of them. They had not been at the territory raid, and perhaps had not been given the full information.
They had not spotted him, so Seiki quickened his pace. Being near to South City, this part was slightly quieter, and there were few people around. Soon, he found a lane with a small bamboo sign pointing toward South City.
As Seiki turned the corner, in front of him, coming down the lane, were Sachio of the West Defenders [Level 10] and Umiko of the West Defenders [Level 19], the latter of whom had indeed been in the raid and recognized him on sight. Her eyes widened when they met him.
Seiki wondered if he would not have to start a brawl after all.
Chapter 16
“You!” cried Umiko of the West Defenders [Level 19].
Seiki could not run back, as he knew there were more of her clan members coming down the street. As long as the others had not spotted him, he thought the best strategy was to take his chance with the two in front of him.
“Who are you?” said Umiko, eyeing him warily, but she made no attempt to reach for her sword. She seemed to be opting for conversation first, a fact that Seiki appreciated. “Whose clone?”
Seiki blinked. “Whose what?”
“Kazuki?” suggested Sachio of the West Defenders [Level 15], who was apparently a ryoushi, with a short crossbow in his hand.
Umiko shook her head. “No, Kazuki was there. Who else? Reiji? Seiya? Tsuneko?” She paused slightly between the names to check Seiki’s reaction.
Seiki simply shook his head.
“Come on,” cried Umiko. “They would never trust a random stranger.”
“Well, I think they were asking me to join their clan,” said Seiki. Actually, he was not entirely sure about the Society, but the White Crane Order definitely made their intentions clear.
Umiko grimaced. “Fine. Whatever you say. You have the unique?”
“No,” said Seiki, noting the fact that this confirmed that they were truly after the Horn of the Ox Demon.
“Who’s got it?”
He sighed. “Look, you won’t get anything useful talking to me,” Seiki said honestly. “I don’t know what is going on between you people, and I don’t want to take sides.”
“Did they give it to you? Or did the obake take it?”
So at least Kiku made it out of there alive. This might also suggest that no one else did. Seiki just looked at them without answering.
“Maybe he’s really not one of them,” Sachio whispered.
Umiko frowned and muttered, “These are RPers we’re talking about. They do stuff like this.” Then she said aloud, “Okay, whoever you are—I’m guessing Reiji—Nobuki wants a word.”
“I’m not Reiji,” he said. Basing this on Ikumi’s example, Seiki did not fail to see why she would think so.
Out of the blue, Sachio cried, “Our Lord the great Nobuki of the West Defenders would like an audience with you, mister swordsperson.” Then he noticed Umiko glaring at him. “Hey, gotta talk to RPers like that or they don’t respond.”
Seiki could not hold back his laughter. Even if they killed him right now, it would still be rather funny. “Sorry guys, can’t help you here.” They had not resorted to violence as their first measure, so there was a chance that they might be reasonable people, and he started making his way forward.
“Okay, Reiji.” Umiko took a deep breath, as if preparing for a speech. “Listen, this is how the game’s meant to be played. The uniques are meant to be used on real content. It’s completely useless with the Society.”
They had not reacted to Seiki’s expressed intent of going on his way, and he tensed as he walked past them, since his sword was sheathed and there would be no time to Parry in close range. But Umiko made no attempt to stop him.
Her voice grew louder and seemed genuinely upset. “We’re pushing the end boss of the Kakoku Fields Event right now. You understand? That unlocks the next event for freaking everyone else. So you people need to stop being selfish!”
That made Seiki pause. It was the first time he had heard anything about this and, if it was true, her argument was perfectly reasonable. He turned to look at her. “I’ll pass on your message,” he said.
His honest tone apparently surprised her and she stared at him for a moment.
“You know where we are,” said Umiko. “Come talk to us once you’ve thought about it, okay, Reiji? I know you ran with the Red Dawn people the other day, so I know you do war games. Well, that’s exactly our thing, so you can join us. We’re always open to new members.”
If she was determined to believe that he was Reiji, there was nothing to be done. “I’ll pass on the message to Reiji too, if I ever come across him,” said Seiki. He was turning around when he felt jagged metal around his ankles.
“Nobuki said not to hurt him!” cried Umiko.
It was a ryoushi trap. The sharp teeth clamped tightly around Seiki’s feet, securing him in place, but they did no damage.
“Trap doesn’t hurt,” Sachio pointed out. “And the guy’s getting away.”
Seiki counted four seconds for the trap to expire, but obviously Sachio was doing the same thing. At the exact moment the first trap faded, another landed on Seiki. He knew struggling was futile and grabbed the hilt of his sword in case the ryoushi tried to attack.
“Hey, I want no trouble,” said Seiki. He would probably be able to defend himself against a Level 10, as long as Umiko stayed out of it.
“Well, let him go!” cried Umiko, furious at her clan mate. “Is this really worth the Patrols right now?”
“I didn’t hurt him, all right?” cried Sachio. Next thing they knew, the ryoushi let out a yelp and staggered backward as two arrows pierced him in the shoulder. Seiki turned around in surprise.
Yamura of the Honor Warriors [Level 9], in all green leather gear, was staring at them with a bewildered look, a long bow in his right hand. His fingers were already reaching for more arrows from the quiver on his back.
“Run, man,” cried Yamura, letting loose another arrow, which Umiko parried with a clang. The trap loosened as it expired and Sei
ki dashed forward. Sachio had already returned shots against the ryoushi, and Seiki spun around and parried one of the arrows as several more flew past them.
“Go, go!” Yamura yelled as he ran after Seiki, tossing out his own traps behind them. Glancing in his back, Seiki saw that Sachio was trying to pursue, but Umiko grabbed hold of his arm and they broke out into a yelling match about what Nobuki wanted.
They turned right at the end of the alley and were back in the safety of South City, just had they heard someone yell, “Brawl!”
“Keep running,” said Yamura as Seiki slowed down. “Patrols.”
“Right,” said Seiki. Then he noticed something and gave a thumbs-up. “You made it.”
“What?”
“Honor Warriors.”
Yamura winked. “Oh, yeah.”
The alleys ahead were starting to look familiar, since Seiki pretty much knew all the roads in South City by heart now.
“Yanagi,” Yamura announced his destination as they continued to sprint.
Yamura was right and the Patrols did come after them. Before long, they could hear the gallops of a single rider. Seiki had not returned an attack, since Parry was essentially a dodge and did not count as aggression. So, technically, the Patrols would not touch him. But since Yamura was running, Seiki kept him company.
“I swear I do this three times a day,” muttered Yamura. “This is all we do. You try to go somewhere, brawl. You try to get to the Shogun, brawl. What a waste of time.”
“Hey,” said Seiki. “Thanks.” He was quite sure the West Defenders people would have eventually let him go, but he appreciated Yamura’s gesture.
Yamura shrugged. “Join us,” said the ryoushi. “Hundred and fifty Shogun reps and they accept you. You rarely get passing one-shots anymore. The mates are pretty cool too. Too bad not many of them are in South City.”
This was the fourth time that someone had asked him to join a clan within the past hour. Seiki shook his head in disbelief.
“What?” asked Yamura. They had come to a small intersection with low bamboo walls and Yamura decided not to wait for an answer. “Let’s split up here. I’m going to Yanagi, so you take this left to your dojo, okay? There’s only one Patrol, so we split the chance, so at least one of us can stop.”
With that, the ryoushi ran down the lane. “Come with me and some of my mates to do a Shogun mission in about half an hour!” he shouted as he disappeared around the corner. He presumably continued to shout some details but was then too far away for them to be intelligible.
Seiki stopped running to address the mounted Patrol.
“Officer! Could you point me to Mani Shrine?” he asked.
His theory about Parry was right, and the mounted City Patrol paid him no attention as he galloped down the road. “Sorry, young man, busy on official duty!”
Yanagi Alley was near and Seiki was quite sure that Yamura would have made it. As the gallops died down, Seiki found himself in the familiar scene of South City. The night was late, and the nameless citizens of the area no longer roamed the streets with their dim lamps. Surrounded by this calm and peacefulness, Seiki was hit by the kind of exhaustion one often experiences when coming home from a long journey.
Seiki started wandering aimlessly toward the general direction of the dojo. Down one alley, he encountered a scrawny Thief [Level 4] lurking with his cloth bundle on his back, whom Seiki did not bother with anymore. A cool wind lifted and shook the shadowy curtains of the willows along the road and Seiki looked fondly around at the quiet night scene.
Without really noticing, Seiki had made his way back to the dojo. The place had a front door, but he had always used the rear that opened into the courtyard behind the practice hall. He had expected to find the bare half-burnt platform. However, to his delight, the wall of the dojo was now up again and the roof was almost half-finished.
“That was quick,” said Seiki out loud. He noted wooden planks and bags of sand strewn around the courtyard, suggesting that rigorous work had been done during the day.
“Yes, thanks to your two hundred gold that bought the roof tiles, Seiki.” It was Master Tsujihara’s voice.
Seiki lifted his chin up and discovered the old man sitting in the middle of the roof. “Join me,” the Master said, nodding toward a ladder, propped up against the end of the wall, which must have been left by the roof tilers.
Seiki climbed up the narrow ladder and made his way toward the old man. The roof edge that flattened out near the end provided a convenient sitting spot. One could recline back on the sloping roof, which was why Seiki had not noticed the old man at first. Now, as Seiki approached, the Master sat up and Seiki spotted a tray with a small bottle and two cups.
“So you were expecting me, Master Tsujihara,” said Seiki. Technically, it had only been a day since he had left the old man, but it had felt much longer.
“Who said this was for you?” said the Master, but he filled both cups nonetheless as Seiki sat down beside him. He then picked up one and nodded to Seiki, who followed suit. The cup was tiny and the clear liquid shining white as it reflected the full moon above. Seiki glanced up at the serene disc of white hanging high in the sky.
Quest accepted: Night on the Roof [Level 8]
Night on the Roof [Level 8 Quest Information]: talk to Master Tsujihara and learn more about the past. You will receive: 85 XP.
“Lots of experience for drinking,” noted Seiki in amusement. Master Tsujihara had downed his cup, so Seiki lifted his and drank it in one go.
He had not expected the fire. The liquor was hot, not in temperature but in its bitter, burning taste that was also intensely sweet. It ultimately made him feel like he had just swallowed a most exquisite kind of liquid flames. Seiki almost coughed as the sparkling sear passed down his throat and instantly warmed his stomach. Then it hit him hard with a dizzying sensation.
You are now 40% drunk.
Seiki let out a weak curse without meaning to. The fuzzy warmth was spreading fast through his body and his head was almost spinning, but not in an unpleasant way. “What is this thing?” he asked the Master.
The old man chuckled. “Good wine,” he replied.
The effect had reached Seiki’s fingers now and they were tingling in waves. “I can tell you it’s totally not like this in real life.” He had now changed his mind about the kakigouri being the best thing to consume in Shinshioka.
“That’s just because you had never had good wine,” said the Master.
Seiki wiped his smiling lips with the back of his hand. “Is that so, Master Tsujihara?”
The old man was looking out toward the city. He sighed. “Look at Shinshioka.”
Seiki followed his gaze. The full moon was shining down on the sleepless city below, dwarfing its numerous lamp lights. South City was full of smaller houses, which lay quietly in a still, uneven sea of dark gray. Further away were the taller and more distinctive buildings of East and West City, with shrines rising high, flaunting their sophisticated slanted roofs. At the back, climbing up onto the side of a gentle hill, towered the Palace District, with large symmetrical buildings whose tiny dots of brightly lit windows overlooked the whole capital. It was a scene of silent calm that almost made it look like a painting. Soon, a breeze, unusually cool on his warm skin, carried over faint sounds of merry-making from the lively West City, where intelligible bits of conversation and songs could be heard. Seiki had to sigh, too.
They sat in silence for a while as they took in the view.
“Master Tsujihara,” Seiki finally said. “Do you know someone called Shousei?”
He did not want to ruin the moment, but this had to go somewhere.
“Yes,” said the old man. “He was my old master.” He paused and looked at Seiki. “Since you’re asking me this question, I believe the second Master Shousei paid you a visit?”
Seiki nodded. “He’s the one who set the dojo on fire.”
“I know,” sai
d the old man. “Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, but no.” Seiki scratched his nose. “Actually, he taught me Parry.” He checked the old man’s expression to see what he thought about it, but Master Tsujihara just raised an eyebrow. “If you ask me, I’d rather get all my abilities from you,” Seiki added.
The old man returned his gaze to the restless city. “Did he set his kamaitachi on you?”
Seiki wrinkled his nose. “In fact, he did.”
“The old master used to have us practice on these things,” said Master Tsujihara, rather fondly. “He said it would teach us to use our eyes, as well as to keep track of our own health, seeing that you cannot rely on instincts with them. The mountain was full of them.” The old man sighed. “That was such a long time ago.”
“Can’t really imagine you as a young man.”
“I never was one, Seiki. I was always meant to be old.”
Seiki laughed. “True.” He was not sure if the old man just really broke realism for the sake of a joke.
Another brief silence fell.
“Well.” Seiki took a deep breath. For some reason, he had been slightly worried about this question. “Shousei seems to think that you’re betraying the Shogun. I mean, if that’s who he meant by his lord.”
The old man grimaced, before letting out a long melancholic sigh. “He is mistaken.”
Seiki waited for him to continue.
“I made a vow, the same one twice, Seiki, and I do not intend to break it.” The old man’s stare rose to the starry sky, as if in recollection. “My old master was a loyal man. There were many who were displeased with the Shogun’s treatment of him, so he asked all his students to vow to serve the interest of Shinshioka and never engage in any resistance against the Shogun.”
That did not really answer the question. “Why would his son think you are betraying the Shogun, then?”
“The younger Shousei can be quite stubborn,” said the old man, as if remembering something from the past. “If he’s got his mind set on something, he would trust it to the end.”
That still did not answer the question, and Seiki was feeling a little worried that the old man was avoiding the subject. “Don’t get me wrong. If you say you didn’t, I’ll believe you.”