The problem with the palace was its labyrinthine structure. Apparently, the need for such a design came about twenty-seven years ago, just before Ryoma’s time. An insurrection occurred during that time led by the Sakamoto clan. They were allegedly incensed about either an increase in tariffs or the conscription of their sons to the Imperial army. Ryoma never really did understand the true reason (perhaps it was a collaboration of the two slights against the clan), but in any case, the family revolted all the same. In a coalition with the Takamaki clan, a lesser family seeking to ascend the political ladder, the Sakamoto clan stormed the palace gates.
As Ryoma had heard it, the Imperial guard in those days weren’t exactly the pinnacle of soldiers; rather, in the more peaceful times that Japan had seen over a handful of decades up to that point, the Imperial guard had become languid and without the necessary vigor to cull the intruders. The Takamaki warriors secured the gates while those belonging to the Sakamoto charged through to the palace’s interior. At that time, the path to the throne room was a straight shot, and so, the invaders easily advanced upon Emperor Hiro’s father. Without an adequate resistance force, the rebels quickly took control of the throne room and dispatched of the emperor.
It took several days for the shogun’s forces to arrive in the capital. When they did, however, they were more than capable of overcoming the combined might of the Takamaki and Sakamoto. The two clans were swiftly demoted, stripped of what little lands and titles they clung to. In the wake of the tragedy, the shogun suggested that the palace’s layout was partially to blame for the ease of the coup. Henceforth, he decreed, the palace was demolished and a marvelous maze was erected in its place.
And now, Ryoma roamed the maze, hunting for its end. Of course, he had traversed the correct path of hidden corridors dozens of times before, but under the guise of night, familiar corners seemingly gave way to bizarre anomalies. He couldn’t as easily discern the functioning passages from hallways sprawling in circles, entrances that ushered their guests to nowhere, and trap doors that descended ever further from his objective. Without a torch (he had moved too briskly and, in truth, recklessly to procure a torch), he felt less and less confident in his advance. He would need to halt every few paces just to slow his breathing and remember his exact position in the palace.
What made the journey worse was the understanding that he probably wasn’t alone. Seeing the demons crawl their way through the gates caused Ryoma to shudder, not just then but even now. He had no way of knowing how long this invasion had been taking place. His heart initially wished to place the blame on his own ineptitude, but his mind reminded him that he had no way of preparing for this type of stealth-laden ambush. He needed his rest, same as everyone else, after all, and so, he trusted the gates with someone else in the watch. It wasn’t his fault that they were simply overtaken, just as it wasn’t his fault the previous emperor had been slain. To think that he could be blamed for this incident was on par in lunacy with thinking he was responsible for the well-being of someone who had died before he was born. He simply had to accept the current situation and continue moving forward.
Then, Ryoma heard a noise. More specifically, he believed the noise to be light footsteps. Instantly, his mind returned to the oni he had already encountered. Their smaller stature meant that their footfalls would be softer against the ground than someone of his own standing. In fact, he knew this to be true due to his encounter with the imp walking toward Goro’s quarters. Even in the dead of night, the sound of its tiny feet making their way across the courtyard barely made an impact in Ryoma’s ear. He was sure of the impending danger now lurking in the palace. But where, exactly?
Ryoma all too suddenly became hyper-fixated on the warren that he, the lone field rabbit, found himself lost in. While he knew the way to the throne room, more or less, he realized that the demons didn’t; they would instead be aimlessly wandering the labyrinth. That meant they could appear behind any corner or false nook, ready to strike. If one that had come before him found itself in a trick room, then it would naturally return to whence it came, and Ryoma would be right in its path. An even worse thought was how it might be behind him, having discovered his own footsteps and mimicking them, ready to strike him in the back.
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The darkness began suffocating Ryoma, His breathing grew denser which only served to more easily give away his location to the oni pacing the corridors. He tried to contain it, but the anxiety of the situation broke through his rational thinking. By that point, he knew that any demon worth its salt would descend on him at any moment. Instead of fruitlessly attempting to calm himself, Ryoma decided to assume a warrior’s stance and prepare for a fight. He unsheathed his blade and continued down the hallway, cautiously inching forward and staring through the midnight black as though he were locked into a duel with a fellow samurai.
Louder grew the footsteps, indicating to Ryoma that he was unfortunately headed in the direction of the beast. However, as he closed the distance, he noticed a distinct disruption in the pattern of thumps. His heart dropped as he realized there was more than one set of feet clopping and cutting through the inky dark. Although he couldn’t quite tell how many there were, he assumed at least three demons were trotting along.
Despite a renewed sense of dread, Ryoma thought of Goro at the gate. He was currently facing greater odds and, though admittedly not hiding his own fear very well, was standing up to the challenge at hand with the dignity befitting a true samurai. Ryoma didn’t always look up to Goro, but here and now, there was a lesson to be learned about honor and duty. It was now Ryoma’s turn to be brave and face the odds, no matter how overwhelming, head-on!
Ryoma eventually found his way to an adjacent hallway closed off by a shoji. Coincidentally, the footsteps stopped at the same time. He reasoned that the demons were just beyond the precipice of his sight. He exhaled rather calmly given the situation and raised his katana.
“Take this!” Ryoma yelled as he carved clean through the shoji in one fell swoop of the sword. He heard metal clang against metal and a shriek of terror. Confused, he recoiled from the opening, anticipating some sort of trick. Instead, he was met with a slight moaning. Puzzled further, he stepped toward the opening once more. Then, a voice shakily asked, “W-who go-goes there?” Ryoma recognized the voice instantly.
“Empress Haru!” Ryoma exclaimed. He opened what was left of the shogi and instantly bowed, clasping a fist with his open hand in front of himself. Another voice said, “Wait a moment. Is that you, samurai?” He looked up to see who had addressed him and noticed not just the empress, but also two of her ladies-in-waiting, one in front of Her Highness and one behind. The palace woman nearest him was wringing her wrist; Ryoma traced her gaze to a kwaiken, a sleeve knife, laying on the ground.
“I’m so sorry!” Ryoma said, dropped to his hands and knees, and pressed his forehead to the ground. “I thought you were an intruder! Please forgive my ignorance!” Empress Haru regained her composure and walked over to Ryoma, kneeling down on one knee and placing a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t the time for apologies.” She said. “We must hurry!” Ryoma picked his head up from the floor and said, “I agree. Have you heard from your husband, your Highness?”
Empress Haru lowered and shook her head and said. “Not since an hour or so ago.” Though Ryoma couldn’t see due to the darkness, she began to blush as she admitted, “His stomach became upset, so he and his guards were away from our bedchamber. In place of him returning, some evil, vile thing was at our door. My ladies-in-waiting and I ran to get away and ended up here.”
Ryoma nodded and said, “I understand. Please, allow me to escort you from the palace. I’m afraid it’s not safe.” He reached out a hand for her to take, but she refused. “No,” she said, “my palace women are capable fighters, you see. They’ll escort me to Goro in the courtyard and he’ll see to my well-being. What I need from you is to find and protect my husband.” Despite the shade of night, Ryoma could tell she was tearing up. “Please,” she said, “save my Hiro, Ryoma.” He nodded once more.
Returning the lady-in-waiting’s kwaiken to her, Ryoma placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Protect Her Highness with your life.” She nodded, and so Ryoma stood to the side to allow them to pass. Empress Haru smiled faintly and then the trio began their own trek through the labyrinth. Ryoma waited until he couldn’t see them anymore, and then turned back to the looming corridor.