Sōichirō jumped up from the floor. “What is it?” he commanded with a tinge of fear in his voice.

  The retainer stopped and bowed hastily. “My lord!” he said, “Come see for yourself! This way!” The young daimyō hurried out of the room after his attendant, his loose robes billowing as he ran along the corridor.

  Yukiana did not know what to do but was stunned by the suddenness and gravity of the interruption. After a moment, she rose and followed Sōichirō down the hall, not wanting to be left alone in such a situation.

  As she came to the entrance, she could see a figure below, lying on a wooden cart, covered by a blanket so that only his sandals were visible. There was a large crowd gathered around, from peasants to wealthy townspeople. At the head of it all was Sōichirō, looking over the motionless body. Beside him stood the imposing figure of Odori, with crossed arms and blazing eyes. The murmuring of many voices filled the air.

  “What is this?” Sōichirō asked, inspecting the cart and the body upon it with displeasure.

  A stern-faced soldier standing next to the cart took a step forward and addressed the daimyō. “My lord, this is one of our own brought here from our border. He was part of a scouting party that was slaughtered by the Tora.”

  This accusation made the crowd rumble with anger.

  Sōichirō frowned and stepped forward to inspect the body. He gently pulled aside the blanket and then winced when he saw what lay beneath. It was indeed a Ryū soldier, but he was violently slain, with terrible gashes across his torso. Sōichirō quickly covered the corpse and stepped back to compose himself.

  “These men were brutalized, and none were buried!” the stern-faced soldier continued. “They were left out in the sun to rot!”

  “How far within our borders were they slain?” Sōichirō inquired quietly.

  The soldier seemed taken aback by the coolness of the daimyō’s question and appeared exasperated. “I do not know exactly! All I know is it was well within our lands!”

  Sōichirō sighed and then turned to instruct one of his retainers. “Send a letter to the Ryū by falcon. We shall see if they claim responsibility for this.”

  He then addressed the crowd gathered about him. “Enough of this, all of you, return to your homes or duties. This man and the others will be taken care of. Give them the respect of the dead.”

  At this, the crowd began to stir and break apart but then a voice called out from amongst the throng. It was a woman’s voice, perhaps the man’s wife or mother, for it carried the tenor of anguish within it.

  “But what of the Ryū? Will this murder not be avenged?”

  This caused a louder stir from the crowd, who began to recongregate to hear their lord’s response.

  Sōichirō looked incredulous and dismissed them once again. “Begone!” he cried. “Leave the matter to me. We do not know for sure that it was the Ryū that did this!”

  “Will you do the same for this man as you did for your father?” a voice sounded from the far corner of the crowd. “Leave him unavenged?”

  Sōichirō shot an angry glance in the vicinity of the remark but could not identify its source. The crowd noise had begun to grow into more than a grumble and became angry, filled with dissension.

  “Give us war!” someone cried. “Or are you afraid?”

  “You are incapable of bringing our enemies to justice!”

  “You are no tiger, but a mere housecat!”

  “Coward!”

  Sōichirō seemed panicked, and instinctually took a step back, as his face drained of all color.

  “Insolence!” Odori boomed, stepping between his lord and the crowd. He clasped the hilt of his sword with his giant right hand. “Get back to work! Now I say!”

  At the fearsome display from Odori, the crowd finally broke apart. A few of the house servants came forward to take the body away. Sōichirō stood still, looking down at the patch of earth where the cart had just been.

  After several minutes, Odori came aside his master and said quietly. “My lord…”

  “Why?” the young daimyō said sharply, interrupting his general. “Why did you bring him here?”

  Odori paused for a moment, considering his words with care. “I thought you should see...”

  Sōichirō turned toward Odori and gave him a foul look. “Did you want to embarrass me? To cast me down in the eyes of the people! Answer me!”

  This was followed by an even longer hesitation by Odori, who seemed unused to this kind of rebuke. “I only meant to show you the urgency of the matter. Our soldiers are being murdered within our very borders!”

  “And so, he was brought here? Like this? In the middle of the day for all to see! It is a tragedy indeed, but Odori-san, are you trying to start a war?” Tora’s words were quiet but razor-sharp, and he glared at his servant with obvious wrath.

  Odori seemed taken aback, but only momentarily, for then he answered with strength. “I am only doing my duty, my lord.”

  Young Tora’s fists clenched. “Your duty, Odori-san, is to trust my judgments and carry them out! Those wounds could not have been caused by the Tora, nor any man. As a man of war, you should know that to be true. Perhaps they encountered a bear in the wilds. Either way, we should investigate. If we begin down the path of war, my general, it may be the very end of our clan! Perhaps that is your desire after all.”

  Sōichirō frowned, turned, and strode back up the steps into his palace. As he did so, he did not seem to notice Yukiana at all, but several steps after he passed her, he stopped and addressed her. “Your quarters should be prepared by now. Please, go and refresh yourself. I shall call upon you later.” With that he continued inside, his footsteps heavy upon the wooden floor.

  Yukiana stared down at Odori, who gave her another look of obvious disdain before he strode off in the opposite direction. Her heart sank. She had longingly envisioned her meeting with Sōichirō since her escape from the New Capital. It was one of the few glimmers of hope that she had clung to, and though she did not exactly know how it would go, she could not imagine anything quite like this.

  A female attendant soon approached her and led her silently to a nearby house, simple and quaint on the inside and out, but incredibly clean, and within view of the palace. Captain Yoko had a similar residence not far off, and after a brief inquiry, she had learned that he had a bath drawn and would come to see her later on.

  “A bath would be rather nice,” she thought, as she knelt to the floor, and sipped the tea set out for her on a low table. She looked around the room now that the attendant had left and wondered where her kami could be.

  “Tanu?” she said aloud, wondering if he had taken up with the captain. She took another sip of tea then looked down again and found him staring up at her with a sly grin.

  “I am improving,” he said with a note of self-satisfaction. “You did not recognize the butterfly on the wall, did you?”

  She was not startled, but impressed, for he had seemed to have lost a part of his ancient skill in their binding. He, at least, was growing more accustomed to their strange union, while she still had a lot to learn.

  “How did it go with Tora?” the kami asked, drawing up to the table, and nibbling on the rice cakes that were set out alongside the tea.

  Yukiana sighed. “Not very well,” she admitted. “The Tora are nearly caught up in a new war with the Ryū and Sōichirō is under a great deal of stress. I hope our arrival does not add to his worries. Do you think we made the right decision in coming here?”

  “It’s going to be like that everywhere,” said Tanuki, between bites. “With Kitsune and Ishihara rising to power, I am sure all sorts of troubles are sure to come.” Tanuki was doing a good deal of damage to the rice cakes set out, nearly toppling over the bowl in his frenzy. Yuki knew that he liked human food but had never seen him like this before.

  She looked at him with both confusion and mild disgust. “Tanu-san, are you, all right?”

  He looked up at her with full cheeks and crumbs scattered across his face. “Of course,” came his muffled answer.

  “Well, I’ve noticed that you have become very fond of food since we were bound.”

  “I have always had a fondness for food,” Tanuki shot back, somewhat indignantly. “But now that I need it to survive, it has become something of a passion.” He said this before engulfing the last rice cake in three bites.

  Yuki giggled and then peered around at their quarters with fresh eyes. Her quarters now seemed a bit warmer and more friendly to her. “At the least,” she said with a sigh, “We are safe for now, and given a brief respite from danger. I should look forward to a nice bath.”

  “And I, a nice nap,” Tanuki declared, suddenly looking very drowsy.

  In the late afternoon, the young daimyō summoned Yukiana as promised. She had taken a hot bath and was surprised to find new clothing and footwear set out for her. She found linen underclothes, a simple grey robe, a black overcoat, and a fresh pair of wooden sandals. She had never worn wooden sandals until her time in Ishihara and was reluctant to use them now, but after close inspection of her former pair made of bamboo fiber, which was on the verge of falling apart, she overcame her aversion to them and made do.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “You look quite splendid,” Tanuki remarked, as she emerged from behind the shade.

  Yukiana smiled. It had been so long since she had felt clean, and it was more than physically refreshing. It did a great deal to invigorate her, and she felt stronger and more capable than ever before. This sensation lasted only momentarily. She glanced in the mirror hanging across the wall and saw her left eye scared by the violent wound she received at the hand of her former master. Her countenance fell, and she felt exposed without the eyepatch given to her by Doctor Mori. She retreated behind the screen, returned the patch to its usual position, and then quietly departed from the house.

  “I shall be watching this time,” Tanuki called after her, and in an instant, he had become a perky swallow, and took off overhead.

  The sun was setting in the night sky, for the days were shortening, and a chill air cut across the hills of Kei. Yukiana clasped her new overcoat and held it tight about her and strode in the direction of Sōichirō’s estate.

  She was soon met by the same attendant who had taken care of her before. This was a silent, elderly woman, and she ushered Yuki up the steps, past the guards, and back into the large room where she had been earlier. In the evening it was much darker, for the outer windows had been shut, and sunlight had been replaced with lamp light. Upon the small table was set a variety of cooked foods, and at one side of the table sat Sōichirō, who eyed her intently as she entered the room. The door slid shut behind her, and she felt, at that moment, exactly like she had when she met him for the first time.

  “Why am I so nervous?” she wondered.

  “Please sit,” Tora said, gesturing with his hand. “I am happy that you could join me for dinner.”

  Yukiana bowed politely and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

  They began to eat and did so in complete silence. Yuki, who had not realized just how hungry she was, picked greedily at the broiled seabream and bowl of takikomi rice. She was aware that his gaze often fell upon her face, in particular her missing eye, though he did his best to conceal it. When the mean was finished and the silence became too much to bear, the young Tora rapidly drank down the remainder of his sake and finally spoke in earnest.

  “I must apologize for my behavior this morning,” he began, “I should not have dismissed you in such a fashion. I was angry and I…”

  “Do not apologize,” Yuki said, interrupting him. “You are under a great deal of stress and…”

  “It is no excuse,” he returned, his face still grave. “I must offer you my apologies regardless.”

  “He is putting on such airs,” thought Yuki, seeing how solemn he was trying to be. “Very well,” she said with a smile. “I accept your apology.”

  “That is well,” Tora said, relaxing just a little. “The other thing I meant to say was, well, this morning I very rashly revealed a sensitive bit of information to you. I beg of you, please forget that I said it. It is of the utmost importance that it never gets out. Especially now, more than ever…it would be disastrous for me.”

  Yukiana examined him carefully. She had not forgotten his words to her; indeed, she had carefully contemplated them in the interval since their last meeting. “Ryū Kurea,” she said. “So that is why you could not tell me who she was.”

  “Now you see. But it was an idler’s fancy, mere foolishness. I knew it was wrong, but I never thought it would turn out like this. We had been at peace for ten years, I never thought it would return to this, to war.” He said this with a spasm of panic in his voice.

  “I agree with you in part,” Yuki said after a few moments passed. “I understand why you feel such anxiety about the matter. I will not reveal your secret. But I do not agree with you that it was simple idler’s fancy. You did care for her, that was evident by the lengths you took to impress her.”

  At this Tora’s face reddened. “It matters not. She is my enemy now.”

  “Is that why you hesitate to go to war with the Ryū?”

  Tora shook his head obstinately. “It is more complicated than that. We have little left to fight with. Most of our fighting men were slain at the battle of Shinohara. In fact, not a single man returned from that battle. War with the Ryū would mean sending every man we have left and risking everything in doing so. I do not want to be the last Tora daimyō if it can be helped. More importantly, it has been confirmed that the Shōgun has been slain and his consort, Lady Ishihara, will rule in his stead until his child is born and comes of age. The Mashige, of course, support this decision as it will keep power fully within their grasp. It is difficult to foretell what the other daimyō will do. It may be a return to the War of Ashes after all. In such a case, I would like to wait and see how everything plays out. It is said that this consort is more devious than even Mashige Hideyō.”

  “She is…” Yuki confirmed, looking as if through a fog. “Today was the first I have heard of the Shōgun’s death. This bodes ill indeed. Was it said how he died?”

  “If it can be believed, the blame falls on one of his personal attendants, a certain doctor. It is said that he was a Truist operative.”

  Yuki’s eyes widened, and her fists clenched tightly. “Lies!” she whispered.

  Sōichirō observed his guest’s response for a moment before speaking.

  “This…Ishihara woman, she was your former master. Tell me, if you can, what was she like?”

  Yukiana glanced toward Tora with a grave expression. “She did this,” she said, pointing up at her wounded left eye. “And much worse. I would not put it past her to murder the Shōgun and claim the power that was his for herself.”

  At this, Tora grew pale and seemed to shudder, unable to lift his gaze from the patch that now covered Yuki’s left eye. “I have been terribly rude,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “You have come all this way, and I have yet to ask you of your tale. Please,” he offered gently.

  Yukiana gradually composed herself and then told him of her time since their last encounter. She gave him as much detail as possible, especially about her first gruesome interview with the Lady and her subsequent imprisonment by the Shōgun. She told as much truth as she could but intentionally left out her binding with Tanuki and her exact means of escape from the castle grounds. She did this purposefully, as she was not sure how such a fantastical tale would come across, and secondly, she was not sure how Sōichirō would react to her new powers. She thought it would be best to wait and only reveal her true self when the time was right.

  After Sōichirō had heard her tale, he remained quiet for some time. At last, his gaze met hers and he exclaimed, “Yuki-chan…I mean, Yuki-san. I am…well…I have no words. All I can do is to extol your bravery and sit in awe of what you went through to come here. While I had stowed away and left the city at my father’s command, and was assisted by my retainers and staff, you…you did it all on your own. A young girl, penniless, all on her own.” He chuckled to himself. “It deserves to be in a song I would think, like the ones you used to teach me.”

  Now it was Yuki’s turn to blush. “I was not completely alone. Without Captain Yoko, I would have never made it this far. And the kami…they watched over me.”

  “The kami indeed…” Tora said and seemed as if the word seemed to remind him of something else. “Well, I am glad to have heard your tidings, for now I am more reluctant to spare soldiers than before. While Mashige was a harsh leader, he could at least be trusted to honor his oaths. As long as the Tora and the Ryū were not in open war, he promised not to move against us. However, this… Ishihara, if she is cruel as you say, she may be hoping for the slightest reason to destroy us. It would not be difficult to do, especially at the present.”

  “What about Odori-san?” Yuki asked, hoping it would not be too forward of a question. “He seems to be very keen on the idea of war with the Ryū.”

  “Ah yes, Odori. He thinks he is doing what is best for me, for the Tora clan. In that, I cannot fault him. I have finally given him leave to begin to assemble our army.”

  “What?” Yuki exclaimed, greatly surprised by the news. “But you just said that you would rather keep the peace.”

  Sōichirō grimaced. “I still do. However, in this, I have little choice in the matter. Odori is my best general and oldest advisor, and the people love and respect him for fighting by my father’s side for many years. If I refuse his council for too long, he may lead a rebellion against me.”

  Yuki nearly started. “Then should you not reprimand him for disloyalty? You are the daimyō now!”

  I am,” Tora answered grimly, “But one new and inexperienced. The coup would not be his idea, but the people may push him to it if things go badly. Sending him on this errand does two things. One, it focuses Odori’s energies away from here. Secondly, it buys me time.”

  Yukiana forced a receptive expression, though she was not very convinced that this was such a good plan. “What will you do with this time?” she asked.

  Sōichirō shifted uncomfortably. She could tell that even he had his misgivings about what he was about to say. “I need to know what happened to my father. To her father. I have yet to meet one eyewitness from the Battle of Shinohara, yet rumors have come back that Ryū betrayed us at the battle. I just cannot bring myself to simply believe it. The two hated each other, yes, but I thought that after ten years…” his words seemed to hang in the air, as the lamps slowly flickered in the dark.

  “I sent a few of my best scouts to Shinohara Beach, to see if anything could be discerned. None have yet returned. It is a long and perilous journey, so I must be patient. If I could just know what happened, I could be sure of what to do. If Ryū did betray my father, then so be it, we go to war again, and likely destroy each other once and for all. But what if it was different? I need to know if there is any other way. She…Kurea…” At this, Tora grew quiet.

  “I can help,” Yukiana said, breaking the silence. “Just tell me how and I will do what I can to repay your kindness.”

  “Nay,” Tora answered sternly. “You have already done so much in coming here. You must rest, yes, you must rest and heal from your perilous ordeal.” He lifted his head and looked at her once again. There was pity in his eyes and fear on his face. “If anything, you can pray for me. I so desperately need it now.”

  Yuki shifted closer to him. She wanted to embrace him, to comfort him but he quickly rose and bent down, took her hand, and helped her to her feet.

  “We shall meet again, soon,” he said, escorting her to the door. “I wish we were able to memorize those old tales like we used to. But now, well…everything has changed.”

  With that, the two parted ways. Yukiana was escorted by a pair of guards to the entrance of the estate where she was met by her female attendant.

  “I would like to be alone,” she said quietly.

  The old woman acquiesced and bowed politely, and Yuki walked under the soft moonlight in the direction of her residence. There was a bitter chill in the air, and the illuminated clouds seemed to pass by hurriedly as if they too were in distress.

  “You know,” Tanuki’s voice returned once she was all alone, “I agree with you wholeheartedly. You can help Sōichirō. Indeed, I am afraid that you must help him.” He had landed upon her shoulder and remained perched there as a swallow.

  For once, she did not appreciate his sudden presence and did not reply to him until she was back inside her small residence. “What do you mean?” she finally asked aloud, not in the mood to converse without speaking aloud. “How can I help him?”

  Tanuki transformed back to his normal form and hopped carefully down to the wooden floor. “It is quite simple,” he explained, with his usual confidence. “You must find out what happened to his father, the Old Tiger. War will be inevitable otherwise.”

  Yukiana frowned. “And just how shall I do that?”

  The kami drew closer to her and stared up at her with eyes reflecting the silver of the moon. “Do you not understand? You are half-kami now. If we are to defeat Ishihara, it will not be because we are idle. We cannot linger here forever. You must push yourself to grow beyond what you think is possible.”

  “Are we to leave here so suddenly?” she lamented. “After we just arrived?”

  Tanuki shrugged. “We do not know how far off the war may be. If this is the Lady’s doing, there is certain to be some benefit to her. The more power she gathers, the more difficult she will be to defeat. We must try and stop her every chance we can.”

  “How do we know that the Lady is involved in this?”

  “There is one way to find out for certain,” Tanuki countered. “That is to go to Shinohara Beach and see for ourselves.”

  Yuki sighed. She had been looking forward to a rest for so long. She had been kidnapped, enslaved, and imprisoned. She had known physical pain, emotional anguish, and mental suffering. This was the reprieve she had longed for. And yet, Tanuki’s words seemed to ignite a fire within her. She had been given a great gift, one that had afforded her freedom and a second chance at life. She could not hope to staunch it now.

  Yes, it would be easy to rest within the power of the Tora, but how long would that really last? If war came, and this seemed like an inevitability, she would have to flee once again. No place would be safe within Ishihara’s reach, and the more power that she gained, the further her reach would extend.

  “She must be stopped,” Yuki silently resolved, setting her eyes toward the moon above. “Tomorrow we shall go,” she said aloud, as the moon passed the window, and its pale light struck her face.