You have to win this one, Blue Bottle Mandible. Everything I have is riding on you.

Betting slip clasped tightly in my hand, I shoved my way through the mass of perspiring bodies to the edge of the cleared space set aside for the bout. It was not yet noon, but the day was already becoming uncomfortably hot and damp. The moist air only increased the unpleasant stench of sweat, urine, and spilled alcohol that permeated the saké house.

Why am I still here?

A minor nobleman glowered at me for daring to jostle him. I gave him a flat, hostile stare in return. My hangover was getting worse, and I was in no mood to defer to a glorified clerk. His gaze took in my weathered skin, broad shoulders, broken nose, and stained robes. I could almost hear him thinking, Country warrior. Not important enough to be polite to, but he might become unpleasant if insulted.

He turned away, pretending indifference. I gave a grim smile. It wasn’t necessary to have expensive silk robes to be thoroughly intimidating.

The trainers took their places by the arena, each holding his fighter. I looked down at my clenched fist.

If I win, everything will change. I can restore my honor and the honor of my clan.

In their separate containers, the two contestants became agitated and started racing around frantically as their handlers touched their antennae with horsehairs. As soon as the men released the fighters into the battleground, they charged. The fighting crickets slammed into each other, and the struggle began as they stabbed with forelegs and gouged with mandibles. I leaned over the round clay arena with the other bettors, yelling encouragement to Blue Bottle Mandible.

The two crickets grappled and rolled across the floor of the container. Springing apart, they landed lightly, ready for action. My fighter charged again, knocking his opponent, Vermillion Ochre Eyes, against the wall of the arena.

Antennae twitching wildly, Ochre Eyes made a lightning recovery and vaulted forward, landing on top of his enemy and digging his powerful rear legs into Blue Bottle’s middle abdomen. Blue Bottle began frenzied struggles to free himself from his opponent’s clutches but to no avail. He made a desperate strike at his foe’s head, but Ochre Eyes rolled onto his back, clutching Blue Bottle in a relentless grip.

With Blue Bottle Mandible positioned above him, Ochre Eyes convulsively straightened his legs, propelling his enemy through the air in a long, flat arc. The hapless cricket bounced off the wall of the arena, taking a few precious moments to recover. Ochre Eyes bore inexorably down on Blue Bottle. It was too much for the poor cricket, and Blue Bottle fled before his tormentor, scuttling around the ring in terror. With a curse, Blue Bottle’s trainer snatched him up and returned him to his jug. Chirping in triumph, Ochre Eyes strutted around the arena until his owner grabbed him up, too, and returned him to his own bamboo home.

“No!” I moaned. I flung the worthless betting slip to the floor and stalked away.

Given the favorable odds for Blue Bottle Mandible, I had hoped to recoup my losses with a win. Now, with the loss, the last of my funds were gone.

I knew I had nothing left, but I checked my bag anyway, on the off chance I had failed to spot something of value I could sell. Alas, the bag was bare except for a few scraps of old clothing and some hardened grains of rice stuck in the seams. A small stone Bodhisattva sat forlornly in the middle of the sack, its presence only emphasizing the empty space around it. It finally sank in I had squandered everything. Dazed, I sagged against a pillar.

What have I done?

My stomach growled in hunger. I couldn’t even afford a meal.

Why did I come here?

Suddenly, it was if some sort of madness passed, and I felt as if a fog lifted from my mind.

When I first entered the saké house to “get a bite to eat,” I knew it hosted games of chance. What had possessed me to choose a gambling den as my last stop before entering the capital? With my ill-fortune, I always lost when I gambled, so why did I think that matters would be any different this time?

I remembered promising myself that under no circumstances would I bet any of my precious money. Then, after a couple of drinks of saké, I began considering how much simpler things would be if I had more money. Surely, a couple of bets couldn’t hurt anything…

I rapped my head sharply against the pillar against which I was leaning.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I be so stupid?

Two delicate arms wrapped around my neck from behind. “Yoshi-san, don’t let a loss get you down, you are sure to win next time. Let’s get some more saké and decide which cricket to bet on next.”

I turned around and smiled at the pretty girl in the peach-colored robes. “Sorry, Peach Blossom, no more saké. All my money is gone.”

She frowned. “Too bad. Come back when you have more to spend.” She tapped my cheek and flashed a flirtatious smile. “We can have some fun.” She walked off.

There goes my only “friend” in this place.

I didn’t bother to watch her leave. Her job didn’t involve wasting time on broke patrons. Though I had enjoyed her company, after more than a decade of patronizing low-class establishments throughout most of the sixty-six provinces, I wasn’t foolish enough to think she had any real feelings for me. I was just part of her job.

I went back to vacantly staring at my bag. The small stone icon of the Buddha stared back, his mirth-filled countenance mocking me.

Drinking and gambling are the best ways to squander your wealth, he seemed to say to me.

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered. “The last thing I need is a sermon from you.”

I took the small statue and stuffed him inside my robes. I didn’t want to see his smug grin anymore.

After more than a decade of trying to discover who had betrayed my family to their deaths, I had finally amassed sufficient funds to put into effect a plan to bribe imperial officials to tell me what I needed to know. Someone in Kyoto had the information I needed, and bribery was the only way I could ever discover it.

But I had drunk and gambled away the money that was my only hope of achieving my goal.

Why? Why did I do this?

Finding no answers in the bottom of the bag, my gaze wandered aimlessly around the room as I struggled to come to terms with my ill-fortune.

“Some rotten luck there, Yoshi.” An unctuous voice snapped me out of my reverie. “Too bad.”

I straightened up and turned around. Stone, the proprietor of this fine establishment, smiled as he leaned against one of the pine columns supporting the roof. His sympathy was as false as his smile.

I scowled at him. His smile slipped, and his eyes slid away, refusing to meet my gaze.

Out of long habit, I checked him for weapons. On his belt, he wore a tachi, the long sword favored by the bushi, the hereditary warrior class. It had a gilded hilt in the shape of a dragon, a ridiculously impractical ornamentation that would twist in his hand were he unwise enough to wield it in a fight.

On him, it was an affectation. He had no need to wear weapons. Others did his fighting for him.

After a moment, he straightened up and faced me again, his eyes glittering with avarice. “We’ll be keeping your naginata to cover that loan we gave you last night. I love quality weapons, so I’ll be sure to take good care of it.”

“You’ll be doing what?”

The remaining fuzziness in my thoughts faded like mist on a sunny morning. The pounding in my head redoubled. Fragmentary memories suddenly returned. There had been a lack of funds at one point in the evening…

How drunk was I last night?

“You pledged your weapon against the loan I gave you last night. I have the chit right here.” Stone waved a piece of paper in my face.

“Let me see that.” I snatched it from his hand.

I scanned the document. My eyes widened at the amount of the loan, but the seal at the bottom was unmistakably mine. Alarmed at the thought Stone might have already taken my weapon, I peered over his shoulder.

Relief washed over me. My naginata still stood in the weapons rack by the front door.

“I don’t remember you actually providing me nearly this much money. Nor does the agreement say anything about a naginata.” I opened my hand and let the document fall.

Stone bent over and plucked the agreement off the floor before someone stepped on it. “Well, we didn’t put the bit about the naginata in specifically. It was understood. I wouldn’t loan that much money to a wandering bushi without collateral. I am sure Peach Blossom will back me up on this.”

The naginata was a family heirloom passed down to me from my great-grandfather. Its haft came almost to my ear. Attached to the end was a deadly curved blade as long as my forearm. It was my most valued possession and the finest weapon I had ever used. It was inconceivable I would have pledged it against a loan, no matter how drunk I was.

Yoshi, you’ve been played like an ignorant bumpkin.

I remembered a few more things and started laughing at my ridiculous predicament.

Stone puffed up in outrage. With a final chuckle, I shook my head and said, “I’m sure Peach Blossom will say whatever you want. No doubt you also have any number of other people who would swear to it as well, whether or not they were actually here last night. But I remember tearing up any agreements mentioning ‘naginata’ before I put my seal on that one.”

I straightened to my full height and continued in a harder voice. “I’m not some stupid country yokel you can gull with that ploy, Stone. I admit I agreed to the loan. Somehow, I will pay you back, but you’re not getting the naginata.”

He took a step back at the anger in my words. In a shrill voice, he said, “I’m not letting you leave with that weapon.”

I laughed again. “How do you plan to stop me?” I asked. I shoved him to one side and made my way past.

A wall appeared between me and the door. No, not a wall, just one of the largest men I’d ever seen. I’m a bit above average height, but this fellow towered a full head over me. He must have weighed twice what I did.

“My compatriot, Yamada, objects to you leaving with the weapon,” Stone said from behind me.

I’d seen Yamada around during my three-day binge. A former champion sumo wrestler, he had been banned from competition after he “accidentally” killed two opponents in exhibition matches. Even before his ban, he had a reputation for cruelty. I had a mental picture of him picking me up and snapping me in two over his knee like kindling for a fire.

Throwing his arm over my shoulder, Stone said, “I understand your feelings, Yoshi. It’s hard to let go of your possessions sometimes. Think of it this way—the Buddha tells us that by renouncing these tawdry material things, we reduce our karmic burden and amass virtue. I’m just trying to help you achieve enlightenment.”

I stood for a moment, irresolute.

If Yamada gets his hands on me, I’m finished. How am I supposed to beat this behemoth without a weapon?

I surreptitiously slipped the stone Buddha from my robe and put it in my right hand. I wrapped my fingers around it, forming a fist. It fit perfectly. By itself, a stone-backed punch might not be enough to tilt the odds in my favor, but I didn’t care. It was bad enough I had failed to restore my honor and avenge my family. If I allowed these scoundrels to make off with the naginata after I had gambled away all my money, my disgrace would be complete. I would rather die than suffer so.

In a loud voice, I said, “Stone, get that over-sized ape out of the way so I can go.”

The crowd hushed at my words. People backed away to give Yamada and me room. Some of the onlookers began wagering on the fight.

Yamada puffed out his chest, threw back his shoulders, and laughed. “A scrawny monkey like you is going to fight me?”

I stepped forward and drove my fist twice into his gut. That brought his amusement to a quick finish, and he doubled over with a whoof. Planting both feet solidly on the ground and pivoting from the hips, I punched with every bit of power I had. My uppercut struck Yamada just forward of his left ear, slightly above the jaw. A perfect shot. My weapons masters had taught me to hit that spot to knock a man out. Yamada’s head snapped in a quarter circle, the blow forcing him upright again.

I backed away, satisfied at the way I had put an end to his mocking laughter. I waited for him to fall over unconscious. Instead, he shook his head sharply, then charged.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Shimatta! Now, what am I going to do?

With a shout of alarm, I leapt out of his way, but his swinging knuckles grazed my right temple. Even that light blow had enough force to throw me back against one of the pine columns. My head rang with the shock of the strike. White spots danced before my eyes.

Keep moving! Don’t let him hit you again.

I blinked my eyes rapidly and scuttled around the column, placing it between Yamada and me. My vision slowly cleared. As the two of us circled the post, I had a sudden ridiculous image of us as oversized fighting crickets vying for position.

Distracted by that errant thought, I stumbled over the cricket table. While I fought to regain my balance, Yamada rushed me again. The floor shook with the pounding of his feet. Instinctively, I kicked the table, sending it flying towards his groin. The table flew between his legs, interrupting his charge.

As he struggled to stay upright, I stepped forward and struck again for his jaw. His flailing about threw off my aim, and I hit the middle of his forehead instead. Pain lanced through my hand and fingers. It felt like I had hammered my fist against a granite cliff. I stepped back and checked my fingers. Miraculously, nothing appeared broken.

“Your head must be solid bone,” I complained.

Yamada growled deep in his throat, scooped up the cricket table, and hurled it at me. I warded it off with my left hand, but the impact numbed my arm from elbow to fingertips.

He struck at my head. I leaned back to evade the blow. The momentum of his wild swing twisted him around, partially exposing his back.

I slammed my right fist into his back, just above the kidneys. Other than a quick grunt of pain, he showed no sign of my attacks.

He whirled back around, trying to clip me with his elbow. I jumped backwards to avoid his blow and rammed into the wall behind me. “What are you, a dancing girl?” Yamada shouted. “Stand still and fight!”

He hurtled forward again.

I dove to my left, landing face-first on the floor. There was a tremendous crash behind me.

A quick look revealed Yamada’s charge had carried him into the wall, the violence of his movement driving his head through the thin wooden planking. The shattered panel held him for the moment, but he was already beginning to tear himself free.

As a young man, I had received extensive training in the art of war. My instructors emphasized that it was vital for a bushi to continuously evaluate the situation during battle. A warrior who fails to adapt his tactics to changing circumstances will lose. Yamada had taken my best punches and was unaffected. On the other hand, though he had barely hit me, I could hardly lift my left arm, and I couldn’t even open my right fist. Time was ripe to adopt a new strategy.

I ran.

Awkwardly grabbing up my bag in my left hand, I bolted outside, slowing only long enough to snatch my naginata from the weapons stand as I passed. Much as I hated abandoning my tachi and kodachi, I dared not risk stopping to retrieve them. While they were decent, serviceable weapons, I could always get a new set later. The naginata, on the other hand, was irreplaceable.

Behind me, Stone yelled, “Two, no three tael of gold to anyone who brings me that naginata.”

Stone really wanted that weapon. Three tael of gold was two years’ wages for a laborer. For that amount, I would chase me too. The other patrons rushed after me with a roar. The press of bodies at the entrance knocked the weapons stand over. Tachi and tantou spilled across the veranda and out into the road. Gamblers shoved each other as they struggled to retrieve their weaponry. Yamada burst through the door, scattering the players like a fox scattering geese.

I ran for the bridge into the city. Behind me, I heard Yamada roar, “I’m going to kill you, runt!”

I had no idea what I was going to do when I got to the capital, but I was determined to make it there. No doubt I could lose myself among its 100,000 inhabitants. Somewhere among the warren of back alleys where the poor of the capital lived, I could find a place to hide.

Stone moved out into the road, shouting, “Stop!”

A mounted patrol of eight bushi, warriors from the city, approached across the bridge ahead of me. They pulled up when they saw me and the mob in pursuit.

Stone called to them, “That man stole a valuable naginata. There’s a reward of three tael of gold for its return!”

The riders milled about in confusion, trying to make out what he was saying over the noise of the crowd.

Even if I got past the mounted men and into the capital, I couldn’t hope to outrun them on the roads. I briefly wished I had replaced my warhorse after an enemy soldier killed him in my last campaign—a reliable horse would have been a gift from the gods right then. But a good horse is costly, and boarding it in Kyoto would have just been a drain on my precious funds.

I might be able to lose them in the foothills between here and Lake Awaumi.

An intricate network of small, interlocking rice paddies ran from the capital to the foothills. Raised berms with narrow footpaths along the top divided the fields and held the water in.

The paddies were already flooded knee-deep in preparation for the coming rice-planting season. Horses couldn’t wade through the paddies fast enough to catch me. Nor could mounted bushi traverse the narrow paths. If I wanted to escape, heading east away from the capital to the foothills was my only option.

I headed out into the fields, gamblers at my heels. The patrol leader shouted to his companion bushi to split up and head me off. Yamada’s angry roars echoed above all the other sounds.

I raced along the twisting paths atop the berms. A quick peek over my shoulder showed some of my pursuers had slipped and fallen into the mud. Yamada had already slowed and was stumbling along at a mere walk. A man of his bulk wasn’t built for running.

I had a comfortable lead, so I slowed to fast trot. The gap between me and my pursuers widened as they staggered on, gasping for breath.

I snorted. City dwellers.

Just then, I tripped over a root in the path and flew headlong into the muddy water.

Struggling to my knees, I clambered quickly back up onto the trail and broke into a shambling run. My sodden, muddy clothes flopped about, binding my limbs as I tried to flee.

The spill heartened those chasing, and they redoubled their efforts to catch me. The gap between me and those following narrowed. As they stalked me, they spread out over the maze of trails through the fields, some following my path, others running to one side or the other to flank me. The tracks wandered about, so I had to continually shift direction to keep heading toward Lake Awaumi.

With a shock, I saw there were two young men standing in front of me at the junction of three trails. They seemed smugly pleased with themselves.

Their attitude irritated me. I could barely stumble along, and they had outrun me. The two weren’t even breathing hard. I brandished my naginata.

“Do you really want to fight me?” I panted, putting as much menace into my voice as my breathlessness would allow.

They backed up a step, suddenly unsure. “That’s a big naginata,” one said.

“Yes, but three tael of gold!”

“We can’t spend it if we’re dead!”

I didn’t have time to wait for the young fools to make a decision. On the other hand, I preferred not to kill them.

Reversing my weapon, I slammed the weighted end of the haft into the chest of the youth on the left. He flailed his arms in a futile attempt to maintain his balance, then fell backwards into the flooded field, losing his grip on his weapon. It spun through the air and landed with a plop into the mud in the middle of the paddy.

The second fellow drew his tachi and swung at me.

The length of my naginata ensured his blade never got close, but his panicked attacks left him off-balance. He stumbled forward, and I swung the naginata just above the ground, sweeping his legs out from underneath him.

He tumbled face-first into the flooded field, spluttering with anger as he surfaced.

I resumed my stumbling run.

Directly ahead, a broad dirt road cut across the fields. Mounted bushi converged from both directions, but they were still a goodly distance away. A shout went up as they spotted me, and they urged their horses to even greater efforts, pounding down the road at a gallop.

Despite my exhaustion, I forced myself to sprint for the road. I had to get across before the horsemen caught up with me. However, it wasn’t going to be enough.

Two of the riders trotted up before I could cross. They waited, sitting astride their mounts with yumi held loosely in their hands, arrows nocked but bows not yet drawn. I slowed my pace and allowed my shoulders to droop, seeming resigned to my capture. A few steps from the horses, I straightened, jumped into the air, waved my arms, brandished the naginata in the animal’s faces, and shouted at the top of my lungs.

The mounts spooked, the one on the left spinning about as his rider struggled to bring him under control. I hit the stallion on the right square in the center of his forehead with the weighted haft of the naginata.

He screamed in surprise and pain and flailed at me with his front legs. His bushi rider was suddenly very busy trying to keep from being thrown and trampled by his maddened mount.

The frenzy of the first mount further spooked the second mount, who also started rearing, his eyes wide with panic. I jumped towards him again, screaming, and he broke free of his rider’s control and raced off down the road.

I dashed into the paddies on the far side. A brief glance over my shoulder showed two more bushi riding up. They unslung their yumi. Not waiting to see more, I summoned every last bit of my remaining strength and put on a short burst of speed. My lungs burned, and I was on the verge of collapse. I heard a humming sound and felt something plucking at my sleeve. An arrow struck the dirt just ahead of me. Fear gave me a final surge of energy, and I stumbled forward for about half the length of a paddy.

No more arrows flew at me. When I checked behind me again, the bushi had lowered their weapons. I was out of the range of the archers. I slowed my pace and lurched ahead, barely able to keep on my feet.

After an eternity, I reached the base of the foothills. The dense undergrowth hid me from my pursuers, and the shade from the trees felt like the balm of Kannon, the Bodhisattva of mercy and healing.

With imminent danger past, exhaustion fell over me like a blanket. I sank to the ground and rolled onto my back, unable to muster even the energy to stand. My chest heaved with effort as I gasped for breath.

Approaching voices spurred me back into motion. I staggered my way through the undergrowth as I climbed away from the sounds of pursuit. I was too fatigued to think of anything but putting one foot in front of the other. After traveling uphill for quite a distance, I finally stopped to catch my breath.

Years before, I had known this area well. I was born and raised in the capital, and these foothills had been my playground as a child. Surei—a neighbor girl a year younger than me—and I spent many days exploring these hills.

As I scanned the terrain, I noted a familiar rock formation nearby. From atop it, one could see the entire Kyoto basin. It had been many years since Surei and I had come here, but I found the old game trail that led to the overlook. I climbed above the rocky promontory to a sheltered clearing behind it. As children, Surei and I would often retire to this clearing so I could instruct her in the art of fighting with the tachi and yumi away from disapproving eyes. Noblewomen were not supposed to study the bushi arts.

I could see her in my mind’s eye. Her long, thick hair tied back and full of grass and twigs. The male clothing failed to hide her budding breasts and swelling hips. Her intense focus as she struggled to learn the weapons I taught her. I was older, taller, and stronger. She rarely beat me. But it never stopped her from working to perfect her form or looking for openings in my defense. As children, she had been my best friend. As we grew older, our friendship had blossomed into love. When I had left the capital, I intended to ask my father to let me marry her.

I stopped and stared at the rocks. That had been more than twelve years before. I never came back. What had happened to her? I was afraid to find out.

Surei, it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

I walked to the edge of the clearing and jumped down onto the rocky outcrop. From there, it was a short climb to the end of a protruding boulder looming over the hillside beneath it.

I crawled out on my hands and knees to avoid making a silhouette against the sky. No point in letting any followers discover my position. From my vantage point, I could observe everything happening below.

Dispirited groups of men drifted back across the rice paddies towards the capital. The mounted bushi still traveled the roads to the south, but even if they left the main routes and moved up into the heights, their horses would have a hard time on the steep terrain. They posed no threat.

I scanned the slopes below me for other signs of activity and listened for nearby sounds of movement.

It appeared no one had followed me past the edge of the rice paddies.

Sighing with relief, I turned my gaze back to my original destination—the city of Kyoto.

The capital lay before me like a fantastically detailed model. I studied the perfect grid of streets with broad Suzaku Avenue in the center, dividing the city into eastern and western halves. At the northern end of Suzaku was the Daidairi containing the imperial palace and the government buildings. The enormous ruined gate of Rashoumon stood at Suzuka Avenue’s southern end.

I carefully counted the avenues from the palace. My family’s estate had been situated north of Fifth Avenue and two blocks west of Suzaku. I peered through the haze, but I couldn’t precisely locate the estate from my location.

My father and brothers were dead, and no one knew I was alive. I wondered who owned the estate now. One of my nephews, most likely, the son of one of my elder brothers. They had been too young to ride with us when we went to battle, but some of them would be grown up by now.

Briefly, I considered visiting the family estate but almost immediately rejected the idea. If I turned up now, people would wonder how I had survived the massacre. In fact, I might even be accused of cowardice and desertion. I couldn’t risk bringing further shame upon the family.

But next door … Surei’s family estate. Would Surei be there? As I planned my journey to the capital, the question of Surei’s fate haunted me. The idea was to arrive comfortably supplied with money. A man of some means. A man bent on rectifying a wrong. But now… I turned my eyes from the city.

The outside of Stone’s gambling house was alive with activity. I smiled as I imagined his fury as my pursuers returned empty-handed. My eyes fell on the bridge just past the saké house leading to the east gate of the city. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

Like a tongue perversely poking at an aching tooth, my thoughts returned to my predicament. Three days previously, my prospects had seemed so bright. I had the east bridge of the capital in sight when the smell of cooking food had drawn my attention to Stone’s place. I went in to get a quick bite to eat and a little something to drink. There was a friendly dice game in the back, so I bet a small amount of my hoarded cash. Bribes are expensive, and no one will look up information for you without a sizable payment. I wanted to have a cushion in case things cost more than I expected.

For a while, I had good luck, so I kept playing. Everyone knows it’s foolish to quit while you’re winning. Then I began losing, but I kept playing because it is a fact when you’re losing, your luck has to turn sometime. I was sure to start winning again.

But, I didn’t win, and soon, I didn’t have enough money left to cover the needed bribes. I had no choice but to keep playing to try and recoup my losses.

Gambling is thirsty work, and I had been drinking steadily. It became clear the dice were against me, so I decided to try something different.

That was when I saw the cricket fights. A lot of the rest was a blur. Somehow, three days flew by, and all my money was gone. I had gambled away my hope of proving what actually happened to my family. It was pure ill-fortune.

I rolled onto my stomach and pounded the ground with my fist.

How could I be so stupid! What evil destiny lured me into this foolishness?

Some years before, an old Chinese sage had told my fortune. “You have exceptional destiny. You will receive great treasure. Most important men in kingdom will seek you out. Six copper yuan, please.”

Exceptional destiny! Exceptionally miserable destiny, perhaps.

Despair hit me. My head was pounding. Regrettably, I hadn’t thought to grab a jug of saké on my way out the door. I really needed a drink.

Saké kept away the nightmares of watching my father and brothers die. It kept me from brooding about how I was probably going to die unheralded and unmourned in some petty war between greedy nobles. It kept cold nights at bay and could even fill my belly when I had no food. Yes, some saké would have been very pleasant right about then.

An itching sensation reminded me of the dried mud from my fall. I looked down at myself. My robes were wholly caked in dirt. My arm felt like an army of ants was marching down it. I crawled back to the trees, stood up, and brushed off as much filth as I could.

I’m covered in muck, and I don’t have any saké. I don’t have any money so I can’t get any saké, but I can do something about the mud.

While exploring the other side of the foothills along the shore of Lake Awaumi, Surei and I had once found an unused onsen, a natural hot spring. I was sure I could locate it again. If I couldn’t drink myself into forgetfulness, a long soak in a hot spring was a reasonable alternative.

Something about that onsen nagged at me, though. There had to be a reason such a beautiful onsen remained unused. Unable to recall the reason, I dismissed it from my thoughts. After all, Surei and I hadn’t encountered any trouble when we went there years before.

It’s probably nothing, and besides, the onsen is the only place around where I can clean up safely.

I set off to find it.