In the honor code of Japan, patience was considered a virtuous thing. That one could sit by a river and wait for fish to spawn in it, or toil while rice grew, or wait out a long winter with little more than the minds to occupy one's time. Koromi lacked that virtue.

  Hours passed, and she sat in her room, holding the small Igashi cell phone. In the mid afternoon, a servant brought her lunch. Rice and fish, a small sauce and vegetables. She picked at it a bit, but barely ate. Her stomach turned on itself at the notion of doing so. He fingers tapped at her knees, the metallic digits clicking with each motion.

  If the Shogun was dead, Edo would be in chaos. It was a matter of great controversy that Oda Tanetaka had ascended to the throne with no wife and no children, and though he took a wife, Oda Michiko, she died shortly into his rule and never bore direct heirs. He then consistently denied concubines, searching instead for a wife of the same quality as his first. No woman as perfect, by his measure, existed.

  Twenty years of that had passed, and all assumed he would be forced to adopt, or else name a successor. He never had, at least not publicly. A power vacuum in the Shogunate was a power vacuum in the planet’s most dangerous nation. An opportunity for all who held ire against Japan to seize. The secrecy involved was likely paramount, and the fact that it was not announced publicly yet meant the powers in Edo were trying to conceal it.

  The politics of Edo were a mess. The Great Clans vie endlessly for power, and between them the primary governing bodies of the Shogunate – The Imperial Magistrate, The Grand Army and The Onmyōji Bureau – were at each other's throats even in times of peace.

  For centuries, since the founding by Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi, there had been a readily apparent Shogun. Always an Oda, always chosen before the previous Shogun’s death, and always swiftly ascended. That Tanetaka would die with no heirs, and that messengers would be sent to far corners of the Empire like Hamada to inform his distant relatives, was indication that something was going terribly wrong.

  Ordinarily when a Shogun passed, it was a great celebration, for his ascension into Heaven would be praised, a grand funeral held, and white worn for weeks as the new Shogun was named and ascended.

  Now there were only secrets and plots. Koromi considered for a time, trapped in her own mind, that she was overreacting. She did after all only have the half-words of a yojimbo to go off of. Michisue had not directly told her that the Shogun had died, nor had Kazuhata confirmed it. It was possible, and a part of her hoped it was so, that it was some important Chief Magistrate that had passed, and that the country would not soon fall to maddened chaos.

  Yet as the afternoon turned to evening and there was no return call, Koromi’s patience had worn thin.

  “Kojiro.” She called aloud, breaking hours-long silence to summon her head servant who, in his endless devotion, had been kneeling just beyond her door for several of those hours.

  Kojiro was an elderly man. Short and hobbled, with a balding head of gray hairs and sunken eyes. He had tended Hamada Castle for decades, and in his devotion, had sworn himself to each of its rulers. As the Lady of the estate, that loyalty came upon Koromi, who generally appreciated but declined his constant attempts at assistance. Even so, he was vital in the maintenance of the gardens and the grounds.

  “My Lady?” Kojiro asked, sliding the door open, though he remained kneeling, head down to avert his gaze.

  “I shall have need of traveling clothes.” Koromi said, sitting cross-legged on the floor, the phone obscured in her lap. Her hands rested still on her knees, robotic digits tapping at them. “And my daishō.”

  Kojiro was hesitant to reply, but did so after a short delay. “For the morning, Lady Oda?”

  “No.” Koromi said softly, “As quickly as you can. Pick two of the most loyal Ashigaru as well. Inform no one, not even Koretsune. Return within the hour.”

  Kojiro understood the gravity of his task, and brought his forehead to the tatami floor in a deep bow. “Yes, my Lady.” He said, and closed the door, only then rising to his feet to quickly carry out his assigned tasks.

  Koromi stood, turning the phone on again. No messages, no incoming calls, no word from Edo. Beyond the back door to her room, in the tiny garden, it had begun to rain. The sound of droplets cascading off the wooden rooftop above created a lullaby that she would have liked to sleep to, but this night would know only hardship.

  Koromi had to reach Edo. Her sister, Mako, was her only living direct relative. Her father and mother were both gone of disease, and her brother had died overseas in one of the colony wars. Tomokore had often joked that he expected Koromi to one day vanish off to adventure.

  It appeared he was right.

  Koromi took the next hour to gather a small bag of belongings. Essentials such as the Igashi phone, spare shoes, a paper fan and silk kimono for any courts she might pass through, and various clips and ties for her hair. She also packed a small bundle of sacred talismans gifted to her by an Onmyōji as part of her dowry, and a tantō knife in a wooden sheath, also from her dowry, which would serve as a spare weapon should her swords ever fail her.

  Kojiro returned soon, kneeling by the door. He called out, Koromi approving his entrance, and slid the door open. On the floor just beyond the threshold, he set the traveling clothes down, and atop them carefully presented Koromi’s daishō. The blades had sat in storage for years at that point, and Koromi’s swordplay had been with wooden practice weapons.

  The weapons were masterfully crafted, as all Dojima blades were, famed smiths and artisans that the Clan was. The hilts consisted of blackened wood, with white cloth bound tightly around them in intricate patterns, and the Clan mon set into the pommels. Kojiro bowed, shut the door, then ventured off on his next task.

  Koromi donned the attire swiftly: A black traveling hakama with a deep blue sash, an overcoat with the Dojima emblem on its back, and a broad umbrella in matching colors. Koromi stood once dressed, slipping on a pair of tabi socks, then sturdy sandals. Carefully, she tucked the daishō set into her sash, fixing them in place.

  Their weight was at once comforting and alien. There had been a time when she had been so used to wearing the swords, that becoming a courtier had cursed her to months of discomfort, feeling nude without them. Now that they were back, it felt as if she had been reunited with some old friend. They had not changed, but she had.

  Not a few moments after she had fully prepared herself, slinging the bag over one shoulder and picking up the folded umbrella did Kojiro return.

  “Enter.” Koromi said, and Kojiro slid the door open. Knelt just behind him were two Ashigaru in Oda colors. One was a young man that Koromi had seen before, one of the gate guards. A unit leader most likely, judging by his heavier plated armor, almost that of a samurai. Dark hair, slightly bronzed skin from hours in the sun, and plenty of muscle. A fine warrior if measured by looks alone.

  The other was a stranger to her, in more ways than one, for she was both a female and an Oni.

  The Oni were a race of tall, horned humanoids that had been allies of Japan since the Great Awakening. Humans, or at least pure humans like Koromi, were actually rather rare in the country’s center. Out here however, in places like Hamada, it was strange to see an Oni, and in truth it was the first Koromi had ever seen.

  She matched her species’ legend: Tall, taller than Koromi by a good margin, and broad-shouldered. She struck a large frame, even when kneeling with her head bowed. Rippling with muscle, clearly visible in the open spots between the plates of her light armor, along her forearms and biceps. Atop her head, a veritable mane of red hair, parted at the front by two long horns, nearly straight save for a slight backward curve near their pointed tips.

  Both of the Ashigaru had tachi swords, and had laid yari spears out behind them, too long to be mounted on their backs while kneeling.

  “Akimo and Kesa, my Lady.” Kojiro said softly, leaning his head first to the man, and then the Oni woman.

  “Rise and look to me, Ashigaru.” Koromi commanded. A most improper order, which the Ashigaru might have initially interpreted as a test of etiquette. They did rise, but could not quite bring themselves to look directly at the samurai Lady.

  “Look to me.” Koromi repeated, and Akimo’s gaze slipped up, meeting Koromi’s. He froze, but she simply gave him a smile and a slight, approving nod. He relaxed then, the body language serving as sufficient signal to Kesa that she could do the same. Akimo had sharp brown eyes, and Kesa’s were a peculiar light orange. Koromi tried not to stare into either set for long, bowing her head after a moment.

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  Koromi had uniquely always respected Ashigaru, as she had grown up with many of them in Satsuma. Thus it was easier for her to look at them on even footing than some Samurai, who may refuse to even acknowledge a commoner’s presence if faced with one.

  “I am traveling to Edo, starting tonight. I will need aid getting there. Can I trust you to attend me?” Technically neither could refuse to come, for it was their duty, but Koromi wanted to see how they’d react. If there was hesitation, apprehension, she’d leave them behind. She needed loyalty. Yet, Kojiro had chosen very well, as both immediately bowed in salute, “Yes, my Lady!” Akimo barked, and Kesa parroted the words a moment later, apparently less experienced with speaking to samurai, “Y-Yes, my Lady!”

  “Thank you. Rise, no more bows are needed in my presence.” Koromi said, giving them permission to be more casual, which she hoped would set them at ease. “Kojiro, you may go. Thank you for your aid. Can either of you drive?” Koromi asked, for she certainly could not.

  Kojiro swiftly departed the room, and Kesa was silent. After a moment of more hesitation, Akimo barked, “I can, my Lady.”

  “Good.” Koromi bowed her head a second time, then rose properly, straightening her back and settling one hand on her katana’s hilt. There the weapon sat snugly in her sash, where it belonged. She would not so easily let it go again, now that she had it back.

  “Let us be on our way then.” Koromi said, gesturing onward. The two Ashigaru collected their spears from the floor, securing them to their backs. As they turned, Koromi saw that Akimo also had a handgun tucked into a holster at his hip, as well as several grenades on clips near his back. Well-armed. Hopefully unneeded.

  Akimo led the way, Koromi following right behind him, and Kesa behind them both. Kesa truly towered over them, a foot or more taller than Koromi, and she had to duck to move through doorways. She carried weight underfoot, the floorboards creaking as they walked. It was impressive, though a certain part of her presence instilled a sort of deep-seated nervousness in Koromi, which she resolved to push down as much as she could.

  There would undoubtedly be hell to pay when she returned. Kojiro knew she was leaving, and could run the estate alone, but Koromi was skipping dinner with an honored guest, and then completely abandoning that guest in the same action. Michisue would be insulted, or perhaps worse if he learned why she was leaving. She was committing no crime by leaving, as she was a Samurai, and could travel where and when she pleased. However, the social aspects were disastrous.

  Not to mention how her husband would react. Tomokore had always suspected Koromi would flee into the night, but likely never anticipated it would be so sudden or under such conditions. If all went well, Koromi hoped that her guest and yojimbo would only notice her absence in the morning.

  Unfortunately, that was not to be. Koromi would insult Koretsune for many things, but a fool he was not. He had heard mumbles from the servants about Koromi’s earlier running around, and seen Kojiro moving swiftly through the halls a few minutes ago. The man could put the signs together, and as Koromi’s protector, took it upon himself to stop her from making what he perceived to be a mistake.

  As Akimo slid the front door of the estate open to step out onto the front awning at the courtyard, the trio quickly found Koretsune blocking their path. Not expecting the Ashigaru to attend Koromi, Koretsune idly plucked one of the spears from his back, planting the blunt end on the wooden floor with a dull ‘thud’ that interrupted the otherwise melodic sounds of rain.

  Kesa shifted forward to stand in front and to the right of Koromi, while Akimo took to the left. Both of them knew Koretsune, for as Koromi’s yojimbo, he was also one to frequently command them.

  “You are blocking my path, Lord Minamoto.” Koromi said in a calm voice, allowing her left hand to settle onto her katana’s pommel.

  “It is late, Lady Oda.” Koretsune replied, gesturing with his free hand back into the estate. “Lord Oda will be expecting you at dinner.” His eyes steadily tracing over her form, seeing the signs of travel: Her less formal clothing, bag, umbrella, and lingering on her swords. He’d never actually seen her daishō before.

  “I am sure he will understand that I have other matters to tend to. If you will excuse us.” Koromi said, but made no move to advance, not wanting to rush Koretsune and trigger a hostile reaction. He could never harm her, but her Ashigaru protectors were another story.

  Koromi had expected an argument, but Koretsune’s rebuttal of her actions was more venomous than she’d anticipated: “This is not the time for a rebellious phase, my Lady. When Lord Oda Tomokore returns, he expects you to be here, unarmed and unharmed. Playing Samurai in the rain is unbecoming of you.”

  Had Koromi a better relationship with Koretsune, his response would’ve been unheard of. Any other Lady would’ve demanded he fall on his sword, literally, to answer for the disgrace of so broadly disrespecting her. Yet both he and Koromi knew that he would do no such thing, and he would face no greater punishment from their respective masters, as hers was a position of silent submission. Any deviation from that would see her looked down upon, not Koretsune.

  “‘Playing Samurai’?” Koromi asked with a stunned tone, “If anyone is ‘playing’, it is you, Lord Minamoto, for defying your Lady in such a way.”

  “My Lady is hysterical.” He said flatly, his face nearly lacking in expression, save a slightly furrowed brow. “It would be better if she returned to bed, and forgot whatever notion she has of running off into the night.”

  “I am not your Lady any longer.” Koromi practically sneered, controlling her emotions far worse than he was. Bushidō could take a back seat as far as she was concerned. She had a greater goal to see to. It wasn't the best example to set for the Ashigaru, who bristled as her voice rose. “I relieve you of your duties. Stand aside, or I shall have you removed from my estate’s grounds.”

  It was an official order, one that carried weight. Words and how they were used were critical to Japan, for the labyrinthine politics of the Samurai often ensured they had to be carefully watched. The system broke only when they were simply ignored, as Koretsune seemed primed to do.

  “Do you think I enjoy my lot in life, Koromi?” Koretsune asked, breaking his mask of composure somewhat by using her personal name. “The protector – No, the babysitter of a rebellious teenager hiding in the body of a Lady? We all have our role to play in the Shogun’s will, and this is mine. Yours is here. That will not change simply because you wish to leave.”

  Koromi knew it would be better to keep her purpose for leaving a secret, but there was no helping it. The words were beyond her lips before she could tame them. “The Shogun is dead.”

  For a moment, Koretsune’s face twisted into rage, believing that Koromi had insulted their leader. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to shout, but Koromi quickly continued. “Tanetaka is dead.” She clarified, “That is why Lord Oda Michisue is here. The Shogun has died, and there will be chaos in Edo – There may already be chaos in Edo.”

  Koretsune’s shoulders slowly relaxed. His eyes lowered, glancing about left and right as his mind reeled. “How do–” He began to ask, but Koromi cut him off a second time, “Lord Oda’s unit chief told me.” Not exactly, but who was Koretsune to know.

  Silence befell them. Akimo and Kesa were both stunned silent. For them, commoners, the death of the Shogun was perhaps even greater news, for it was drilled into them how close to Heaven the Shogun was. He was considered a Kami himself to some villages, and he was dead now.

  “My sister is in Edo.” Koromi said, softening her voice, appealing to the man’s empathy. “Let us pass.”

  She thought about taunting him, telling him that the strings were severed, the throne was empty, that his view of the world was mute. But she knew better than to whittle down a man to a single point. People were complex, and she had no way of knowing what might’ve been passing through Koretsune’s head in that moment.

  After perhaps a full, solid minute of tense silence, save the downpour beyond the awning, the statue-still Koretsune shifted. He took a step to his left, slowly returning the spear to its place on his back. “I am your yojimbo.” He said, raising his eyes to Koromi.

  “I–” She began to tell him she’d dismissed him, but he suddenly turned, gesturing toward the courtyard. “We should go before Lord Oda discovers we are missing. At good speed, we should be able to make it to Edo within half a day.”

  Koromi stood in stunned silence for a moment, blinking rapidly as she took that in. He’d invited himself along? He was going to willingly put himself in a vehicle with her for upwards of twelve hours? What bastardized man claiming to be Koretsune was this?

  “You…” Koromi began to speak, but this time she just trailed off, her thoughts half stumbling out of her lips. She shook off the daze after a moment more, clearing her throat, “Akimo, a vehicle, please bring one here.”

  With the protector no longer blocking their path, the Ashigaru nodded and jogged out into the rain, returning within minutes in one of Tomokore’s personal vehicles. A sleek black four-door car, its tired groaning against the courtyard’s gravel as it settled into place. Kesa held Koromi’s umbrella so she could climb into the back seat, shifting her swords from her hip to her lap, then folded the device and sat beside her. Koretsune took the passenger seat.

  The gate guards, though likely confused, dared not to stop two Samurai from departing the estate. In the rearview, Koromi saw Kojiro standing on the porch, watching as the car rolled out of the courtyard.

  Akimo tapped the GPS on the car’s dash, “Destination, my Lady?” He asked, and Koromi gestured forward, “Edo by way of Kyoto. Let us pray this rain ends promptly, that you might drive swiftly when it does.”

  Akimo inputted the locations. Six and a half hours to Kyoto, twelve total to Edo.

  Settling into her seat, Koromi’s heart finally caught up to all that had happened. It was finally happening. She was finally leaving on an adventure. A dire, dangerous, worrying adventure, but an adventure nonetheless. Even if it only lasted a day, even if she reached Edo and learned Mako was fine and the Shogun was alive and all was well, returning thereafter to her boring life gardening, it was still an adventure. It broke the monotony.

  That slow weight settled onto her. In two days time she might be back right where she started. Koretsune might get to return to lecturing her about running in the halls. Tomokore would look at her in condescension and tell her not to abandon guests. Michisue would make some snide remark if she ever saw him again.

  But that was two days away, at least. In that moment, the world was ahead of her. Places she’d never been. Kyoto, Edo, all the lands between. Hopefully her sister was alright, hopefully Edo was in order, hopefully the world made sense.

  Time would tell.