CHAPTER X—“A FEW MORE BODIES”

There had been no reason to go to every inn he could find during the first few days of landing. Upon arriving, Shinjiro had checked the ships tickets at the docks and found no evidence of Rōkura’s ship having made port.

Which was a very bad thing.

Since he had arrived first, that meant his own ship had overtaken hers, but with a day’s head start, how could that be possible?

The ship was official late.

Very late.

And now worry was abounding regarding the vessel.

Several sloops had been sent out to search for the vessel, but still they had not returned with word.

In the meantime, the samurai had gone to the imperial court to find work as a samurai—and had been turned away. As a samurai of Daimyo Hino, he could not serve at the pleasure of another lord except for in the emperor’s employ.

Instead, he went to the local guilds and found employ a bodyguard for their daily shipments. They were short on me because of the war, and so Shinjiro was readily hired.

Half the time he stood around on hurting feet as he watched sweaty men load and unload crates of guild supplies. It wasn’t bad work, and the pay was actually pretty good.

The advantages of the city.

It had not been the first time since he was in the Capital, but each time Shinjiro had come, he marveled over the grandness and majesty of it. Even now, he glanced up passed the high-rise machiya houses with their impressive roofs that dwarfed most of the structure in Momori Kazō toward the mountains.

The temples here were numerous, and built with many levels with multiple cascading roofs. Town dwellings scattered their basses in the hills, but from down in the Capital streets of the machiya districts, it was often hard to see the temple’s proper, for the clouds obscured them.

To gain access to these places, one had to traverse the Subarashī Suteppu—steps carved into the base of the mountains that switch backed great distances with torii gates marking the paths.

Shinjiro sighed heavily as the men grunted about, moving crates into the back of the guild house. The mule at the head of one cart eyed him with bored disinterest.

With each passing day, Shinjiro’s impatience grew. I should be looking for Rōkura. But he had no way to do that. He was not wealthy, and he had no access to a ship that he could command.

All that the samurai could do was wait, and hope that she and the snake Hans arrived soon. Every day he went to the port and checked the ships tickets.

It was hot, and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand while the men worked. He noticed some suspicious-looking men coming down the alleyway to his right and he stepped forward, his back straightened while he presented a proper front to any would-be thieves.

They eyed him askance.

Two workers, Shinjiro thought, gruff, their sandals of dark hempen fibers and their trousers ripped and torn, soiled from heavy use. One of the men carried a club in his sash—a common sight in the city.

It was dangerous and the need for self-protection was necessary. But that club could also be used to commit a crime. That was why men like Shinjiro were needed. That, and to ward of rival guild houses.

The men glanced at him again, and one of them flicked his eyes up above Shinjiro toward the tiled roof.

He almost didn’t look, but when he turned his shoulders to see what the man had surreptitiously glanced at, he just narrowly missed the brick that cracked into the street next to him.

Eyes widened, he screamed at the man while simultaneously taking hold of his katana hilt and drawing the blade in a defensive ark.

His sword came into contact with the club and cut a chunk of it away. When Shinjiro came back with is sword in a quick trajectory-changing arc, the man with the club tried to block and failed as his blade cut into his upper forearm.

He cried out as his ally struck out with his own club—where he got it, Shinjiro didn’t know.

Instead of standing still and blocking that strike, Shinjiro sidestepped as far as he could in case the man on the roof tried throwing another brick at him.

While the guild workers screamed and went for reinforcements, Shinjiro whirled, bringing his sword toward his opponent’s back, but the men lurched away, turned and ran after the first man he had cut.

He jumped once more and glanced up toward the roof, but the man who had tried to kill him with a brick had gone.

Shinjiro growled furiously with indignation. Such a cowardly act. “Come back here!” he screamed. “You have no honor!”

Four men piled outside with clubs and blades. “Where are they?” Shogo shouted as he glanced about like he was ready to attack them himself.

“They are gone,” Shinjiro said, and he sheathed his blade by guiding the tip into his scabbard by pressing the blunt back off the blade. “They went that way. And there was one on the roof.” His blade slid into the scabbard smoothly and ended with a satisfying tap as the tsuba, or guard, came into contact with the rim of the sheath.

The workers came back out too, their eyes wide and their chests heaving with evident fear. They were afraid, but realizing that Shinjiro had expertly warded the criminals off, were quite relieved.

“You did very well, Shinjiro-san,” said Shogo with a nod. “Kurso!” he cursed and spat. “Scum!”

“Hai,” said Shinjiro with curt bow of respect. “Arigatou.”

“Hmm,” Shogo growled. Then he glanced back to the men and gestured for them to get back to work. He gave Shinjiro one last glance and a nod before going back inside, thinking that he would have to recommend that samurai get paid more.

Shinjiro breathed a sigh of relief while two of the other guards with clubs remained outside to assist with watching the cargo loaders. He would have to watch the roofs more carefully from now on.

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Rōkura’s skin was still damp from her swim as Hans said placating, “Do not worry yourself over this matter. No one is looking at you. These things happen, Oni-san. It is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, her cheeks still flaming. It had been hours since she wet herself in the company of everyone watching.

As the warmth of her own urine travelled down her legs, everyone had stared, a few of the people pretended to not notice, but still, Rōkura had been so embarrassed she had burst into tears.

All while that smug woman with the scar gave her looks.

“Ugh!” she couldn’t stand it.

Hans chortled.

Oh gods—he’s laughing at me too. She wondered what Ogai-sama would have done? Would he have made fun of her, or would he have done something to shield her from some horrible embarrassment?

Rōkura sighed heavily as she put one leg in front of the other while these newcomers who called themselves the Taisho Six, led them through the forest. They had met some warriors from the outskirts of Chōdaira and were now heading back.

The oni glanced back at the line of survivors. Only a few had been killed by those ninja, as Suki and Banjo called them—thank the gods.

“You did well,” Hans said, as if he had read her mind.

She looked at him.

“When we were attacked. I could not have done better myself—and now…” He sighed contentedly as he interlaced his fingers behind his head. “We are well on our way to the Capital where we belong.”

Rōkura nodded. “Mm.”

Even in her embarrassment, she decided it was all worth it. Aki and her baby boy were still alive, along with her husband, Taro and Banjo. But she was saddened that Thasarian had been killed, his body left behind.

The Taisho Six assured them that warriors would be sent to collect the dead, but Rōkura didn’t believe them for some reason. She couldn’t explain why, but she had the sense something was wrong.

She wanted to tell Hans as much, but she couldn’t while they were so close to these people. Still, they were allowed to keep their weapons. Was it because they didn’t see Rōkura and the others as threats? They seem so powerful.

It was high time, Hans thought, that they arrive where they had planned to be days prior. Ogai-sama would start to wonder what was taking so long. He wanted his revenge as much as Rōkura, but for wholly different reasons.

A niggle of guilt assailed him. Ogai-sama had left the particulars to Hans to sort out the way he saw fit. And he had seen fit to cloak the next series of assassinations as part of her own revenge, rather than reveal the killings as being part of Ogai’s needs. It’s not lying. She did agree to serve his ends if he helped her with her own revenge. It’s a business deal, and this is part of it.

Still, Hans didn’t much like it for some reason. Normally he didn’t have a problem lying, but… He liked Rōkura. She had great potential, she was willing to get her hands dirty, and even still she had a sympathetic heart to the plights of others.

It was a thing Hans saw as tiresome and annoying, and yet, he wished he were more suited to idealism instead of the cold realities of the world. It was that wish that kept a tiny light burning deep inside his soul that made him admire Rōkura as a person.

Feeling shamed at how he had handled things, Banjo walked, his shoulders slumped. He had tried to lead the group to safety, had tried to keep them together, but under the onslaught of attack, he had cowered like the rest of them more often than not.

Did Rōkura see him as that way now? I shouldn’t even be thinking of her. I have no right to wonder what she thinks of me. Looking down at his feet and feeling sorry for himself and angry at his behavior last night, he trudged on while Taro ground his teeth.

Thasarian and Taro had plans to go to the Capital and become great adventurers. Sure, they would probably get some low level work at least, but eventually, they would make their mark. Taro knew it.

And now he was dead. What was he going to do now?

Trudging on, Aki and her husband Shin had nothing but respect for Rōkura and her little golden-haired friend Hans. At first, Aki had been skeptical and fearful of the horned girl. She looks like a demon after all. But after she had helped them all get out of the wreckage of the boat, Aki was unable to see her in the same way, and neither was her husband.

They had a place waiting for them in the Capital with her sister and mother. Aki had brought the subject up with Shin and talked to him about inviting the two of them to stay with them until they got their legs under them.

Of course he said yes.

That made Aki smile, and she was bursting to tell Rōkura, but that could wait for later. She didn’t want celebrate or offer Rōkura a and her friend a place to stay while some of the others still lacked those things.

It would be indecent of her.

The birds chirped and the sun came out, its rays shining through the trees and the heat increasing. It was summertime after all and the buzzing of cicadas filled the trees.

Rōkura was happy that he Mizu armor didn’t cover very much of her skin. It had taken some small amounts of damage, mostly when that woman Ryuunosuke had stabbed her at Fujiwarai’s estate.

Shaking her head, she realized she hadn’t had the opportunity to kill that woman yet. But where had she gone, and what was she doing now? Something else that bothered her came up.

“Hans.”

“Mm?”

“Who am I?”

He glanced at her through his glasses. “Who are you?”

“I barely remember anything,” she said. “I don’t even know what makes me… me.”

“Ah,” he said, lifting his chin with a smile. “Forget it.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, Rōkura-san,” he said. “You have a new life, on a new world. You should put your past behind you.”

That annoyed her, because what he was saying was that she should also forget her revenge. He seemed to realize this and his eyes took on a worried look.

“I mean…” he amended. “What I mean to say is, Rōkura, is that who you were before is inconsequential to who you are now. “You must are here, and even after you attain your revenge, you will continue to live. You will not be joining your parents.”

She thought as much, and nodded. “But still—I can’t be curious Hans?”

He sighed. “Oh, all right. You already know most of it. You were the daughter of Sujin and Masako—royalty of the oni land Anjō Ōkoku. You were—I would say, a typical teenage princess of the land.”

With a lurch of her heart, she remembered the glint of gold and the floor inside of the shrine on the summit where she and her parents were murdered. She had no image in her mind of what the object had been—and somehow she had taken it upon herself to burn her parent’s bodies while even in her Oni Rage state.

Rōkura suspected now that the golden glint had indeed been that of a crown, like in the vision Hans had showed her at the Fujiwarai estate.

She looked at him quickly, her hope rising. “Can you tell me my family name?”

“No,” he said plainly and without forethought.

“I know you can.”

“Can, yes. Will—no.” He stopped and the people behind them had to step around them as they continued walking in the caravan. “Rōkura-san. I want you to have your revenge. Ogai-sama wants you to have your revenge. Past that…”

“What?”

“Past that, you must put your past behind you,” he said, pushing up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“The likelihood of Ogai-sama sending you back to your original world is very scant—and for good reason.”

She narrowed her eyes, feeling a slight prick of betrayal. But from whom—Hans, or Ogai?

Feeling sympathetic, Hans tried to explain to her as best as he could. “As a servant of Ogai-sama now, you must not dwell in the past, especially not in the past on another world. We are here right now—and we have work to do.”

She sighed, feeling frustrated and sad. She ground her teeth to keep from crying, knowing that without her Mind Block, she would be on the ground bawling her eyes out right now. Flaring her nostrils, she said, “You keep mentioning ‘work,’ Hans.”

The golden-haired little man shrugged. “Do you believe that after you attain your revenge, after you perform a few tasks for Ogai-sama that you will just… what?—remain here? Retire in a nice little cottage on a hill, Rōkura?”

“Well, no, but—“

“You are a servant of Ogai-sama. He is our lord and master now, Rōkura-san. This is our life.”

The oni had to take a moment to absorb that. She hadn’t really thought about it that way before. In fact, because Rōkura had been so preoccupied with revenge, she hadn’t give nit any thought at all.

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“And if I decide I don’t want that?”

The look that passed over Hans face… like a shadow inferring fear and danger—it made Rōkura fearful. He shook his head, hoping this line of questioning wasn’t something she took seriously.

“Ogai-sama has risen you from the dead, Oni-san. He has given you powers, and at no small expense to himself. You cannot simply decide you no longer what to abide by your end of the contract.”

“I don’t remember a contract.”

Hans glanced up ahead as the others continued passing them. He didn’t much like conversing with her like this with others able to hear, but then… what did they know about gods and resurrection—of Isekai?

Nothing.

“Did you shake his hand?” he asked. Then he snatched her wrist. “Have you forgotten this?”

She glanced down at the white marbling under her hot-pink skin. It coiled up her arm like a serpent and coalesced around her shoulder. “No—I was…”

“Not thinking—that’s what.”

She blinked, feeling uncertain and precarious in this conversation. “You cannot go back on your agreement, Rōkura-san.”

That’s all he said, and yet Rōkura sensed there was more to that sentence than he was letting on. The severity of its delivery hit her to her core, though.

Suddenly Hans sharp and sly gaze softened. “Rōkura…” he said soothingly. Then he smiled. “Ogai-sama has gifted you with another chance at life! Do not waste it.” A hot tear did come to her eye then, and he reached up at plucked it with his forefinger. “Do not cry.”

She nodded. “All right. You are right, Hans. Gomen.”

He sighed heavily. “It is all right, Oni-san. This is a natural progression, I think. Anyone in your situation would have these thoughts, these questions and doubts. But we must look forward—not back.” Still holding her wrist, he slid his hand into hers and squeezed. “All right?”

Rōkura smiled, and with a firm resolve to follow Hans suggestion, she said, “Hai!”

“Good.”

As she turned to cut toward the front of the group, the smile on Hans’ face dimmed into a scowl. That had been close. These kinds of questions, he knew, led to dark places, places that led to death.

And worse.

He felt awful.

Putting it behind him, he glanced about the canopy above, listened to the birds and the cicadas. It was a beautiful day now that the rains were gone. Someone brushed up past him and excused himself.

Increasing his stride, he went to the front of the group where he found Rōkura and Banjo in conversation. The young man wanted to speak to her about his feelings, and to apologize for his failings.

But of course, Rōkura brushed it away.

He was wrong to feel that way.

“Arigatou,” he said with a bow and a smile, feeling better at her reassurances. Swallowing, he stayed at her side as her small companion who, though he looked far younger than Banjo, liked to call him “boy.”

The sound of waterfalls became clear to them all and the smell of fresh spring water invigorated them all, filling them with excitement and energy, and not just energy from their own bodily reserves, but with Gaia energy from the world itself.

This was a place of energy, of natural magic, and as the trees parted, the blue waterfalls came into view, the white clouds of midday reflecting in the gentle rivers that converged to create one body of water, shallow and serene with a clear and clean bed of river rocks at the bottom.

But what made Rōkura gasp was the statue, carved into the face of the cliff where the two falls fell from over the shoulders, hit the statues massive hands, and was propelled into the air, causing a sprinkle like a subtle rain to fall all around the base of the cliffs.

The woman with the scar called Yuki Arinatto turned with a knowing smile on her face and gestured to the falls and the statue. “This is the statue of Nomikinan.”

“It’s…” breathed Banjo.

“Quite wonderful,” Hans completed for him. “Truly a majesty to behold.”

The others fanned out into a line of appreciative watcher who marveled at the falls and the statue. Rōkura though the statue liked like a religious emperor, perhaps? What she didn’t know was that she was correct.

Nomikinan had been an emperor of the monks, but Yuki had not inferred that information since she believed that most of the already knew of its existence. She was unaware of Rōkura’s recent past, or that of Hans’ mandate to serve her.

The Taisho Six member was also unaware of the dishonorable motives behind why she and the other members of her famed group had been sent to assist the group and bring them back.

“So,” Hans said, getting down to business. “What is next, Yuki-san?”

“I am to bring you to Daimyo Shōzu. He is the commander of the emperor’s army in Chōdaira.”

“Is Chōdaira far?” he asked.

Yuki gestured to the falls. “Just out of site along the river.”

He sighed, feeling like this was a waste of time. Why did a commander of the emperor’s army need to see them? They were nobodies—at least, he hoped that’s what they appeared as. “Very well,” he said, impatient to get things going. If we can do this as quickly as possible, we can go to the banks to withdraw some coin.

Turning the Rōkura he said quietly, “From here we can arrange a carriage to the Capital.”

Listening in to their conversation, Banjo felt somewhat crestfallen that this probably meant the end of their acquaintance, and yet he would have liked to travel with Rōkura and Hans.

He should have done more.

“My task is done,” Yuki said, and she glanced off toward the other two Taisho Six members who were stalking away. “Suko will take care of you from here.” She gestured to the other woman who hadn’t spoken very much since meeting them.

She nodded to Hand and Rōkura, then turned to her men. “We are going.”

“Very well,” Hans said.

Yuki followed after her famed allies.

“Are they truly famous?” asked Rōkura.

“The Taisho Six?” Suko said. She was shorter than Rōkura and her bangs were cut squarely to frame her dark eyes. Her eyebrows were completely hidden. At her side she wore a sword. She glanced back at the Taisho Six members, then nodded. “Mm. I am surprised you have not heard of them.”

Hans smiled. “She is a gaijin—as am I.”

“I see that.”

“All right!” she called, startling Rōkura with her sudden shout to her men. “We’re leaving. Make sure they all follow.” She turned to them. “Stay close.”

“Right,” Hans said, dragging out the word.

As Suko walked away toward her men, Hans looked to Rōkura. “Do you feel it, Oni-san?”

She nodded. “Like we’re being corralled.”

“Indeed,” he said musingly. “We are either in the company of some exceedingly rude warriors, or something is going to happen.”

“Then why did those Taisho warriors leave?”

“Hmm,” thought Hans. He wasn’t certain. “Perhaps they have another task to get to.” There was a pause between them. “Be on your guard,” he said through the side of his mouth as he put his hand on his hip and turned away from her.

With a nod, Rōkura agreed.

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As a group, they were taken to the military encampment outside of the city. From there, Rōkura could see the buildings clustered around the hills, at the top, a massive castle perched, overlooking everything.

The only higher structures were the tall spires with cascading roofs build upon other mountains surrounding the city of Chōdaira. It was, at least to her eyes, a lovely city that made her smile.

The structures were short, spread out over the hills and the landscape of rivers, forests and meadows.

“Quite a wonderful view,” Hans had said.

From the encampment the survivors were taken in carriages and through the city gate upon the roads and up the hills until they reached the castle.

“Whatever could the daimyo want with us, Suko-san?” Hans had asked.

She hesitated for a split second before answering as she sat in the rocking carriage with them. “The daimyo wished to offer is sincerest apologies for the wreck of your ship.”

“You know about that?” asked Rōkura.

Suko nodded gravely. “Hai.”

Hans looked at her, wondering what she was hiding…

“The war,” she said awkwardly. “We have many spies and scouts in the surrounding countryside. We were aware of the ship’s sinking soon after the late arrival was announced in the Capital. From there a bird was sent to the army, and we went to investigate. That is why we found you.”

“I see,” said Hans, though he wasn’t buying this explanation. Still though, he was curious what this was really about. There was no way they knew Rōkura and Hans were servants of Ogai-sama, and no signs that these people were Hokorash followers had revealed themselves. “Can we expect that the goings-on will be—not to seem disrespectful to your lord—but, well quick? We have pressing matters in the Capital, you see.”

“Do not worry,” Suko said.

As Suko looked out of the carriage window, Rōkura regarded her. She’s taciturn. But as a warrior of the army, perhaps the woman simply did not speak overly much. At least, that’s what Rōkura thought.

While she watched the buildings pass by them, the carriage trundling along and shaking rhythmically, Suko tried to maintain a calm and unsuspicious exterior. The one called Hans already suspects something is wrong.

But they remained quiet. Short of attacking Suko inside the carriage and bursting forth to escape, leaving their other companions behind at the mercy of their captors, they had no options.

She recognized the structures preceding the vast quantity of steps leading up to Awara Castle. “We are there.”

Hans glanced through the carriage window, but he couldn’t see very much to indicate what Suko had just told them. Neither could Rōkura—and neither of them sensed any magical auras nearby.

Still, the look Hans cast toward Rōkura said all she needed to know, and echoed his previous words spoke when they had first seen the statue of Nomikinan. Swallowing, her heart beat more rapidly within her chest.

If the daimyo tried to do anything to them, Rōkura would kill him.

She has a very determined look on her face. Hans continued to discern her thoughts as if he could bore them out of Rōkura’s forehead. As he sat across from her in the carriage, the little space they had made his actions awkward.

Rōkura looked at Suko, trying and failing to know what this woman was hiding. Suko ignored her completely, her eyes never even going up to glance at her horns. There were no lingering stares. But then… neither did the Taisho Six look at me that way, except for that one moment Yuki made a sound when she saw me for the first time.

Did that mean there were other oni in and near the Capital? In Chōdaira, perhaps?

The carriage stopped and Suko opened the door, then held it open as Rōkura and Hans stepped out. The other carriages were trundling up the stone street noisily along with their escort of soldiers.

“Welcome to Awara Castle,” Suko said. She gestured to the summit.

Rōkura had to tilt her neck back. The stairs leading up were carved perfectly into the mountainside, and leading up to the defensive structure were lantern posts with flags that whipped in the wind, black with a white flower.

There was something stark and grey about this whole place, despite the blue sky and the white clouds—the majestic falls. “It’s… eerie,” Rōkura said.

“A feeling I share with you, Oni-san.”

“Come,” Suko said as her samurai coalesced around them. “We will go to the castle to meet my lord.”

At this time Suko was well aware of why lord Shōzu chose to do this within the castle. The trap would be more secure there.

Rōkura hesitated.

“Well,” Hans said with a smile. “There’s no reason why we should terry out here. Please, Suko-san. Lead the way.”

Suko nodded.

Surprised, Rōkura gave him a look, but Hans’ smile continued despite her question. What are you up to now?

Turning to follow Suko up the stairs, Hans thought that, even if they tried something, Rōkura would have no trouble ripping them to pieces if the need arose. And while she does that, I can simply slip away in my feline form until Rōkura needs me.

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Samurai in dark maroon armor, almost a black, were lined up outside of the massive doors. They were opened by a team of men with a loud thud that reverberated through the stones under Rōkura’s feet.

The castle was massive, looming over them like a shadow, its tile roofs and eaves outstretching the structure enough to make the rooms within shaded throughout most of the day, surely.

Suko led them into a large antechamber with polished floors and thick pillars. More of the black flags with the flowers hung in rows and were interspersed with white-paper lanterns.

A statue of a massive lion-like fish with legs and claws and fins like wings, loomed above them with an evil stair, its mustachios wild and curling. The statue of bronze or copper, Rōkura wasn’t certain which, separated the room into four quarters before another set of massive doors.

They were opened and Suko admitted them in.

Rokura and Hans stepped forward.

All was silent.

But a man sat a throne at the far end, his robes pristine and white, his under sleeves black. He said nothing, only sat as they crossed the desolate throne chamber. Rōkura felt reassured that she had her sword at her hip.

Still, the twenty or so samurai bringing up the rear concerned her. She didn’t like them where she couldn’t see.

Hans was not a cat, but like a feline, he had excellent vision, and what he saw concerned him. The grin on the man’s face, was the epitome of self-satisfaction and arrogance. I know the type well.

When Rōkura came close enough to the dais to address the man in the throne, she bowed shortly. “Lord Shōzu.”

His nod in acknowledgement of her was barely more than a dip of his chin. But internally, his thoughts raced. So this is the powerful oni I was told about. She seems tepid and uncertain of herself.

Rōkura swallowed, wondering what this Chōdairen daimyo wanted. Then suddenly another man appeared from behind the throne, as if he had been hiding back there the while time. She frowned.

Hans raised an eyebrow at the arrival of the newcomer. “Daimyo Shōzu,” Hans said, his tone all business. “I am grateful to be summoned to your prestigious castle.” He gestured to Rōkura. “We both are. I trust all is well with you and the fine people of your realm.”

“Quite,” he said, and he stood, his smile not faltering as he put his hands behind his back, his loose drooping sleeves almost touching the tiles as he strode down the steps.

Hans watched him as he circled around him, looking down at him—not only because Hans was rather short, but also because of his arrogant posture. Oh yes—I know your type all too well, I’m afraid.

Shōzu was uninterested in the companion and found himself quickly moving toward the oni. He took her in—he took her all in. Such a beautiful woman, curvaceous, yet not overly so. Firm and soft in all the right places, and… those glowing eyes.

My heart is beating for this blossomed girl.

Moving around her, he looked at her, inspected her as he circled. Rōkura couldn’t help but make an alarmed face while this pervert, completely comfortable in his action, looked at her like a piece of bloody meat to be devoured.

“Ahem,” Hans noised.

But Shōzu only flicked his gaze toward her child companion. As he circled the girl, he said, “What is your name?”

Half tempted to tell him he could call her “oni,” Rōkura hesitated. “My name is…”

Shōzu stopped, looked her straight in the eyes from his elevated height. His hair was straight, silky and long. It hung perfectly around his shoulders.

He waited.

Rōkura swallowed. “My name is Rōkura.”

His smile turned into a grin, and Rōkura was half tempted to allow a disgusted face to come over her features, though she thought better of it, though she did flinch slightly when he touched a lose strand of her hair.

He’s perusing me like I’m a girl he intends to add to his harem!

A hot anger came over her, and he seemed to notice, because he liked it, clearly. Shōzu then glanced up above Rōkura—up high and to the left.

“Look,” he said softly.

She turned, saw the upper level of the throne room, and what she saw sent chills up her spine. Dozens of samurai stalking forward, and in their ranks… there were ninja, their bodies covered all in black, their faces hidden.

“Hans…” Rōkura said in warning. She looked to her supporter, but his affable smile hadn’t waned in the slightest, and he didn’t turn his head to look.

“I am aware, Oni-san.”

There was a moment of silence as Rōkura considered their position. Flanked by at least twenty samurai, and on the upper levels as many or more, and ninjas as well! This is really bad.

“She is indeed the one?” Shōzu asked, his eyes flicking to Suko.

Rōkura whirled as the woman, with her hands behind her back and her legs spread, nodded deeply. “Hai, Shōzu-sama.”

Hans cleared his throat again. “Tell me, Shōzu-sama,” he said, enunciating the honorific. “What can we do for you? Why have you summoned us here?”

Shōzu brought his hands forward, pulled up the hem of his robes as he quickly ascended the dais where he sat on his throne. “I am your host, disrespectful little boy. You do not lead this conversation!”

Lifting an eyebrow, Hans decided he wouldn’t mind snapping this arrogant fool’s neck. For now, it was best to play nice. “Gomenasai, Shōzu-sama.”

There was some noise at the entrance of the throne chamber, new footsteps, fast, disjointed, hastened. Rōkura didn’t turn to look. Through through the score of samurai standing behind her, she wouldn’t be able to see anyway.

“I have summoned you here…” Shōzu finally said as he grasped the intricately wrought armrests with his hands, “to do a task for me.”

“What task?” Rōkura.

Shōzu smiled. “I wish for you to kill someone for me, Oni. My scout Suko tells me you are quite powerful. You will do this.”

She felt outraged that anyone would tell her she must kill for them. Rōkura narrowed her luminescent eyes. “No.”

Shōzu smiled like a skeleton, and because of the gauntness of his cheeks, he resembled one. “You will—and you, her companion yes?”

“That is correct,” Hans said.

“Then you will assist her.”

Hans glanced at Rōkura, and she shook her head. Well, this was not exactly what he was expecting when they were brought here. With a smile he said, “We politely decline.”

“Very well,” Shōzu said. Then he lifted a hand and beckoned for something.

Rōkura and Hans turned as the samurai parted. When she saw who was being dragged forward on his knees, his mouth gaged and rough hands underneath his arms, Rōkura gasped. “Banjo?”

He mumbled though his gag and was subsequently punished for it. The whump of the punch in his stomach was no warning—it was heavy and hard and he bowled over and wheezed desperately.

Banjo tried to suck in some hair, but his stomach wouldn’t allow it as the horrible pain blossomed out, he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to the gods this would end soon. I’m—I’m not made for this!

Rōkura whirled on Shōzu, her nostrils flaring and her eyes blazing. “What are you doing?”

Shōzu gestured back to Banjo.

She looked, and one of the ninja put a short blade to his throat. Oh no—kami-sama, not this. “I’ll do it.”

“Will you?” asked Shōzu.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Shōzu said. Then to the ninja he added, almost offhandedly. “Kill him.”

“Wait!” shrieked Rōkura.

Hans shouted, “What?!”

The sound of the knife getting dragged across Banjo’s through, and the sound of the blood spilling across the polished floors, the smell, the—the wonderful smell, was at once intoxicating, and revolting, as it was the blood of a friend.

Hot teats instantly came to her eyes and she watched Banjo struggle and chock on his wound before dying in the pool of his own blood. Rōkura covered her mouth, sniffing through her tears as her heart beat so hard she felt dizzy.

She snapped her gaze to this evil man on the throne. “Why. Did you do that?!” she hissed through her teeth.

“To show you,” Shōzu said, “what it means—and will continue to mean, should you cross me.”

“There was no need to kill him!” Hans said desperately. “You had… You had no need.” His world spun for a moment as he had to digest what had just happened. Hans did not expect this to be playing out before his eyes.

As it was, he had half a mind to tell Rōkura to kill them all, but she wouldn’t—for the sake of the hostages.

“Perhaps not,” said Shōzu. “but should you fail me—or betray me, I will kill every one of your companions similarly. Do you understand.”

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out of her swollen throat. Banjo—dead. And in front of her. Like that. It’s not fair. He didn’t deserve to die like that.

“Do you hear me?!”

Rōkura in deference, terrified that Shōzu would order more deaths as easily as he had killed Banjo, like he was nothing more than a gnat in his throne room.

Blinking, Suko had to recollect herself. She was not accustomed to watching executions, and she was not accustomed to the throne chambers of the daimyo. His killing of the prisoner had startled and surprised her deeply.

With her heart beating fast, she took a step back, but she ran into one of the hard-faced samurai behind her, his face covered in a snarling yōkai mask. She swallowed, stood still.

“Good,” said Shōzu. “Now I will allow you to collect yourselves before I give you the details of your task. Think carefully, if you wish to attempt betraying my trust—and remember, should you choose to do that, all of your companions’ fates will mirror the same end as your friend.” He waved dismissively. “Now… take them from my sight.”

Rōkura practically choked as she was racked by sobs, the hands around her forearms like steel vices.

“Unhand me, you fools!” snarled Hans, but they didn’t listen.

It wasn’t but a few moments later when they were taken out of the throne chambers and back through the the antechamber.

Their guards marched them out of the castle and tossed them onto the tiles surrounding the castle.

Rōkura couldn’t get up as she moved about on her hands and knees, her vision blurring. She couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t speak.

She cried.

Heated anger rising within him, Hans watched as Rokura suffered on the tiles, the woman called Suko watching them for a moment, a strange look in her eyes before she turned and stalked back into the castle.

Suko went back into the castle, leaving the oni and her child companion on the tiles outside. When the massive doors closed with an echoing boom, she nearly flinched. As soon as she was alone, she checked her hands.

Suko was shaking like a leaf.

I wasn’t expecting any of this…

Hans approached Rōkura and put an arm around her shoulders. “I am, so sorry, Oni-san.” He patted her back soothingly. “Shhh. It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

“They killed him! And for no reason, Hans.”

“I know.”

“Why?” She sobbed, snot running down her front lip. “Why, Hans?!”

She cried hard.

Too hard.

Hans thought that, even with her Mind Block, part of her emotional display had to do with the loss of her parents as well. He felt…

Grinding his teeth, he said, “There is no reason why.”

What Hans dared not say, not ever, was that Banjo’s death was probably a result of Rōkura’s Persistent Bad Luck—a bad mood taking Shōzu at just the right moment, Banjo standing at the wrong spot when the guards chose one of them to execute. Perhaps her luck had struck at a different time.

What Hans didn’t know, was that Suko had found Rōkura in the forest quite by accident, even while she had been raging, sending out her aura for any and all to feel from far and beyond.

“I want them dead,” Rōkura snarled as she glanced up through her tears, red-hot anger filling her being to her inner core like molten steel. “Hans, I want to kill them all!” She wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into her own flesh, to fill her mouth with hot blood and go into her Rage state.

Rōkura wanted to murder them all right now—right here inside the castle!

“Good,” Hans said firmly as he put his hands on her shoulders and glared directly into her rage-filled eyes, “because we’re going to kill them all, Oni-san.”

That was what he felt.

He felt sorry for Rōkura.

A few more bodies won’t hinder our plans in the slightest.