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Haie laid among the tall grass and listened to the sound of the sea. Her sword lay beside her; the blade, looted from the headless corpse of a samurai, wasn't ornate, but it served her purposes.
“Nothing to be done now,” she thought darkly. “My fate may as well be with the sea.”
Despite her doomsaying, her expression was entirely calm. She raised a thumb to the sky, closed her right eye, and blotted out a cloud. “Oh, to be a cloud, free of worry,” she mused.
Nanagi, both her clan and its eponymous village, had been razed to the ground. The resultant smoke could still be seen behind Haie, trailing up toward the sky. She herself had been powerless to stop what had happened; the Nanagi were the weakest branch of the Nanbu clan, they were the lords of only a few fishing villages at the eastern tip of the Shimokita peninsula. They had survived up to now only by groveling to the head of the clan, Ienobu, but, finally, their luck had run out. The Suchio Clan, another branch of the Nanbu, had seen fit to consolidate their power, and they had struck swiftly.
Haie's father, Masanori, had been the first casualty; he had been cut down before the head of the Nanbu clan by a retainer of the Suchio Clan, Takeaki, who served as the head retainer of the head of the Suchio, Hiramoro. From there, Hiramoro had set upon Nanagi and the surrounding villages. Haie had attempted to fight, but she had been forced out into hiding by her younger brother, Norihira. She'd waited out the assault in the nearby foliage, but, before long, she'd lost hope and had left for the coast.
Now, she laid there, waiting for the Suchio forces to find her and run her through. 23 years wasted in the blink of an eye. The sky was almost free of clouds, and seabirds flocked without a care. For days, the weather had remained like this, usually an auspicious sign for the fishermen that she'd grown up around. It was noon now, and the boats should have been in the strait, catching the masu. The thought sours her calm, and she drops her hand with a sigh. Her body still felt oddly at ease, though, and she remained stretched out over the grass. Even the mental image of her father, clad in his most resplendent garb before his final trip to Shōjujidate Castle where the Nanbu ruled, didn't stir her. “Is this what death is really like?” she thought matter-of-factly.
Suddenly, there was the sound of horse's hooves. Haie silently prepared herself for death. As she rose and turned, however, she saw something unexpected. It was no Suchio samurai, but Norihira, only two years her junior, that was galloping toward her with another mount in tow. She grabbed her blade and waved him down.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“Avoiding their forces and trying to get to you,” Norihira replied.
“Ha, better to lay down and die now,” she said. “There's nothing left for us.”
“Have you truly given up?” he asked. “We must sue for an intervention from the head.”
“And have our heads taken by Hiramoro just like father?”
“You can either ride with me or wait here for your death, I'll hear no more of this.”
“I'm still your elder, Norihira. It must be me that goes to the clan head.”
“Then please, Haie, ride with me…”
Despite herself, Haie moved for the horse her brother had commandeered. She climbed atop its saddle and patted it softly. Quickly she maneuvered in front of her younger brother, her hands holding tight to the reins. After ensuring that none of the Suchio were in pursuit, she began to gallop forth toward the road. For two days the siblings rode south, dodging patrols and camping in the wilderness. Both knew the danger of riding so brazenly, their father had taught them as much, but there was no other choice. While Nanbu Ienobu was no friend of the Nanagi, it was his father, Nanbu Iemitsu, that relegated the branch family to its worthless position after all, there was none other they could go to. To beg aid from another branch or even another clan would shame the head of the Nanbu, an act that could prove to be deadly. Thus, it was fully expected for a branch family to only take their requests to the head of the clan. The Nanbu were unique, however, in that Ienobu and his main clan were only nominally in charge of the subset of branch families; they only held power enough to fend off their rivals in the larger clan. Still, Haie was forced to ride for Shōjujidate Castle and grovel before Ienobu in line with tradition.
On the third day, Haie and Norihira made for the hamlet of Ukuroh. The place was hardly a footnote, but this allowed it to escape the notice of any would-be conquerors. As evening fell, both siblings were weary and prepared to find rest wherever it may be.
“Can you make it?” Haie asked.
“I'm fine,” Norihira replied stoically. “Ukuroh must be around here somewhere…”
“If memory serves, it should be through this thicket.”
In a few moments, however, the pair were looking down upon the charred remains of buildings. There were no houses. No lights. Corpses were strewn about, laying just as they had fallen. None carried weapons; their clothing marked them as simple villagers. All around was an eerie chorus of buzzing insects. Norihira's gaze went to the ground and remained there; he could never stomach the sight of gore. Haie, however, climbed down from her horse and began to walk slowly through the remains of the village. She went through the sole street, methodically checking every burnt frame for anything useful. When she approached the final building, a small hut on the edge of the settlement, there was suddenly a great clatter. A figure, covered head-to-toe in soot, charged with blade drawn from beneath a piece of the fallen roof. Instinctively, Haie unsheathed her tachi and took a defensive stance. While she had not been formally trained in any particular style of swordplay, the young woman was nonetheless prepared to strike down anybody who challenged her.
“Die you Nanbu dog!” the figure cried in a husky, feminine voice.
In the split-second she had, Haie stepped aside from the attacker's blade, the edge missing her by a hair's breadth. She then slammed the hilt of her blade into the woman’s stomach, stunning her and allowing Haie to wrestle her to the ground.
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“Get off of me!” the woman yelled. “I'll avenge all of those you killed!”
Haie kept the woman pinned to the ground; she knocked the other's sword aside. To her surprise, the woman wasn't a villager, but a samurai. She seemed to be no more than eighteen or nineteen, but both her kosode and her hakama marked her as more than a commoner. Haie didn’t recognize the mon that emblazoned the woman's clothing, however; it appeared to be a serow. This thought was quickly replaced when the woman twisted and delivered a swift kick to Haie's midsection. As she sprawled, the unknown samurai lunged forth with a tanto aimed at her adversary’s throat. Haie manages to deflect the blade with her own inches before it kills her. The samurai's eyes are filled with fury, and she uses her free hand to try and wrestle Haie's tachi from her. Norihira, finally aware of the commotion, came running; he tackled the woman to the ground, an act that made Haie's blood boil.
“Use your sword, you fool!” she yelled.
“I'm not killing her!” he replied as he tried to keep the woman pinned.
Haie was not as merciful as her younger brother; she put her blade in her left hand and pushed her brother aside. In a flash of movement, her knee was pressed down on the woman’s chest, and her blade was at the woman’s neck. After apparently realizing the futility of her situation, the woman stopped struggling. Her eyes meet Haie's, the fire in them still blazing.
“Kill me then!” she cried. “I'll die with the rest of those you massacred!”
As Haie went to fulfill the woman's wish, Norihira grabbed at the wrist holding the tachi.
“We weren't responsible for this…” he said.
Haie wrenched her blade free of her brother's grasp. Instead of killing the woman, however, she merely held the sword to her throat.
“Lies!” the samurai cried. “Only Nanbu samurai take tribute here, and your mon gives you away.”
“We are from a branch of the Nanbu,” Norihira explained. “Neither of us know what has transpired here.”
“Their blood is still on your hands, Nanbu.”
Haie pressed the edge of the tachi's blade closer and drew a thin ribbon of blood. “We have ventured here to escape the bloodshed of our clan, not to claim the heads of what few villagers remain. Confuse us with the bastard sons of our clan again, however, and I won't hesitate to take yours.”
They locked eyes until Norihira interrupted: “Tell us your name,” he said.
“I am Seifū Tazuko,” she said and pushed the sword away.
“Seifū?” Norihira asked. “What are you doing so far from Dewa?”
“The Akita drove me into exile here…”
Haie sheathed her tachi in her obi and stepped back, but her eyes remained on Tazuko. “What for?” she asked coldly. “Or was it simply bad luck?”
Tazuko pushed herself to her feet and glared at Haie. “I was exiled for trying to kill Mogami Akinori. Bringing down the head of the Mogami would have granted the Seifū the respect we've long deserved and ensured a war between the Mogami and the Akita. The Akita caught wind of my scheme, however, and forced me into exile before I could follow through.”
As Haie examines Tazuko in a new light, Norihira speaks: “That still doesn't explain what you're doing here, though.”
“I headed east into Morioka to gather other rōnin for an attempt to win back my place among the Seifū, but I was injured in a scuffle with Nanbu samurai. This village took me in as I healed, but they were massacred on the orders of the Nanbu. I was hidden away by the family housing me, and I survived because of it.”
“The Nanbu truly did this?” Norihira asked.
He was taken aback by the idea and remained still for a moment, but his sister began walking, her back turned to the other two.
“I wouldn't put it past Ienobu,” she said. “Father kept him as far away as he could for a reason.”
Tazuko picked up her tachi, sheathed it, and fell in step behind Haie. “What branch of the Nanbu do you hail from?”
“The Nanagi,” Norihira explained as he walked. “Our father was the head of the clan.”
“Not much left of it now…” Haie said grimly.
“Our clan was… ambushed by the Suchio, another branch; they left us without a home.”
“Then we are wanderers alike,” Tazuko said.
“Indeed,” Norihira said with a nod. “I'm Norihira and this is Haie, my older sister.”
Haie didn’t look back, however, and she instead turned into the remains of Ukuroh’s only inn. Silently, she kicked off her geta and brushed off the soot and debris from the floor, clearing off a space for them all to sit. Norihira watched patiently; his sister had been like this for some time, sullen and brooding. The temperament had settled in just before their father had died, when the Nanagi's dire fortunes had become plain to see. Norihira himself had always maintained the role of the optimist compared to his sister, but the difference between them had become even more starkly apparent as they'd rode to Ukuroh. They had become nigh irreconcilable, a fact that had been reinforced by Haie's choice to try and execute Tazuko.
Now, the de facto head of the Nanagi sat down cross-legged on the floor. Norihira took his place next to her, and Tazuko slowly joined them. The three sat in silence for a moment; Ukuroh’s desolation weighed heavily on them, and the chorus of insects continued. Finally, Tazuko spoke:
“So what is your plan then? To seek an audience with Nanbu Ienobu himself?” She eyed the siblings skeptically. “What makes you think that the head of the Nanbu will hear your pleas?”
Haie's eyes narrowed, and she stared past Tazuko. "Ienobu is prideful, he won't let a challenge to his authority go unchecked. He may rule in name only, but such naked ambition by the Suchio will force him to act.”
Norihira nodded. “Tradition mandates he must hear our grievances, it's the only path for retribution.”
“Retribution?” Tazuko scoffed. “This Nanbu Ienobu will use your clan's fate for his own gain and then discard you.”
“We have no choice.” Norihira's voice had turned cold. “They slaughtered our father, razed our home… this is the way it must be done.”
“And what retribution can the Nanbu provide? They are dogs, not afraid to slaughter women and children in the name of their ambition.”
Haie's hand moved to the hilt of her tachi. “You know nothing of things here,” she whispered venomously. “Go back to Dewa and die.”
Tazuko reached for her tachi as well, and both slowly rose to their feet. Norihira remained sitting, his despondent gaze on an upturned iron pot, until he finally spoke:
“There's no sense in shedding blood here; our grievances lie beyond Ukuroh.”
The torched inn shivered with the wind. Haie and Tazuko remained standing, their hands on the hilts of their swords. They glared at one another with hatred in their eyes. Norihira remained still, his gaze not on either woman. An uneasy silence hung in the air until Tazuko finally spoke.
“Your brother is right,” she said, her eyes never leaving Haie. “Killing you now is pointless.”
She swept her hand away from her obi with a flourish and sat back down. For a moment, Haie remained still, her hand hovering above her tachi's hilt and her eyes trained on Tazuko. Eventually, however, she relented and sat down, a scowl still on her face.
“We ride for Shōjujidate Castle at dawn,” she said defiantly.
Tazuko’s expression became one of bewilderment. She looked first to Norihira, and then, when he remained stoic, she shifted her gaze to Haie.
“You're still determined to be their pawns?” she asked. “All in the name of retribution?”
Haie returned her look.“I don't intend to be their sacrifice or their pawn. Ienobu is just as much to blame for the eradication of our clan as Suchio Hiramoro, and I won't let either of them get away with it.”
For the first time, Norihira is visibly emotional; surprise is evident in his features. “You plan to kill Ienobu as well? What good will his death bring?”
“His death is its own reward!” she shouted, her hands balling into white-knuckled fists. “We were left to starve while he hoarded his wealth; a man like that has forfeited his right to live!”
Norihira’s surprise turned to anger. “What nonsense is this?” he shouted. “The Suchio killed father, they're the only ones who should pay!”
Hair scoffed and turned away. “Why must you always be so weak-willed…”
“I'm trying to avenge our father, not embark on a crusade!”
“You’re blinded by your loyalty…” Her voice was quiet, but it shook with anger; her fingernails dug into her palms. “What has Ienobu ever done for you? He never went hungry for you, he never bled for you, and he never died for you, so why do you choose him over those that have?”
“Because there is no choice! Ienobu is entitled to life just as we are, killing him will breed strife a thousand-fold worse!”
“It is all his doing!” she shouted. “He sowed that which we must reap!”
“You would sacrifice our future for your justice?”
“I will-”
“Enough!” Tazuko slammed her fist onto the remnants of a beam. “This will get us nowhere! We can argue until the sun goes black, but we'd only be letting opportunity wriggle out of our grasp!”
“What opportunity do you speak of?” Haie asked.
“Chance has given us an avenue to the lord of Morioka, Nanbu Ienobu. No matter our decision, I'd recommend we take advantage.
“Then we ride for Shōjujidate Castle come morning. We will serve beneath Ienobu for the moment which necessitates his survival at any rate…”
Tazuko nodded. “Then that's our plan.”
Norihira weighed the idea for a moment, but, after a sigh, nodded in agreement. “Fine, as long as Ienobu lives, I will stay by your side, Haie.”
Haie nodded at her brother, and Tazuko thrust out her hand palm down.
“We make a pact then,” she said. “Do we vow to travel together and watch each other's backs?”
Haie and Norihira nod their heads and place their hands atop hers.
“Then let no harm come to us!”
The three throw their hands up, and the bond is forged.