Shinhou waved away the cloud of smoke that had begun to float his way from Emie’s pipe. As the smoke entered his nostrils he coughed a few times, weakly at first, which turned into loud hacking. Shinhou could feel the disapproval coming from her direction. Emie turned away from him slowly and puffed a long cloud out the open window.

“Maybe it’s the seals,” she commented off handedly.

Shinhou could still feel the marks along his spine and the front of his torso that Abbott Deep Ocean had burned into his skin after he was expelled from the monastery. It was one thing to have the leader of his branch — the only father he had ever known — remove his ability to use kai and throw him out from his home. It was something else to have a reminder of that marked on his body permanently, in multiple places. He touched the mark on the space between his eyes.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Shinhou found himself automatically defending the Order. “Though many legends about the Order are exaggerated, some of them are not. They cannot afford to allow those who have left to exercise their techniques freely.”

Emie lowered her pipe and turned back to him. She looked interested for the first time that evening. “Techniques?”

Shinhou almost began to explain before he stopped himself. Of course they were not supposed to mention that any particular techniques even existed. If the stories were true, some were killed for speaking too freely, despite ostensible religious objections to such things. He shook his head. That was the power that women had. Shinhou found it odd that though the popular plays spoke about what women were willing to do for love, there was little mention about what men were willing to do for it. Shinhou pulled his inner robe from the table and wrapped it loosely around his torso. He then stood up, and quickly tied the belt. “Doesn’t matter now.”

One thing Emie must have been good at was detecting when clients did not want to elaborate further on a topic. Shinhou had heard women in her line of work getting in trouble for pressing a conversation too far. And so true to her professionalism, she dropped the subject.

“When will I see you again?” she asked absentmindedly.

“I won’t be back for a long time. Until then I suppose you’ll have to find another companion.”

“You know I hate when you speak like that,” she said, puffing a cloud of smoke out the window again.

Though she said that, the tone of her voice had changed significantly from before. Their relationship had never been this cold. Usually they were entangled in each others’ arms, talking about the other girls in the establishment, the brothers from his monastery, or the affairs of the empire — which in the turmoil of those days led to endless conversation. Shinhou was smart enough to be suspicious about their relationship early on. Of course it was common for naive men to believe working girls really liked them. But over the years Shinhou was sure that Emie’s enjoyment of his company was at least partially genuine. It was at least enough for the both of them to keep up a cordial atmosphere during his visits. That atmosphere seemed like a distant memory now.

Shinhou coughed. “I will be going on a long journey. To where I’m not sure, but it will take some time,” he repeated.

Shinhou turned his head until Emie was fully out of view, gazing at the pink clouds in the evening sky through a window in an adjacent wall. He should have known that visiting Emie would not make him feel better. Shinhou never made much coin; even a high ranking clergyman did not make much without taking bribes. He concluded long ago that Emie was never with him for the money — she probably made much more than he did. He guessed she had put up with him for so long because she had an inexplicable attraction to his job, despite his constant indulging in her services. Though Shinhou did not recall her asking him about the religious aspects of his work, he did find her leafing through his scripture collection several mornings when she must have assumed he was asleep.

Shinhou watched the clouds of smoke drifting out the window as if they were the last wisps of their connection fading away. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, though. After a while," said Shinhou as he quickly secured his outer robe.

“Probably,” Emie replied.

Shinhou nodded once and headed for the door. He stopped and turned toward her, wanting to see her face one last time. He was disappointed.

Outside, the sun had already set for some time, and the path was less crowded than before. Shinhou guessed it was the thirteenth hour, when most people were finishing their evening meals. The thought of dinner made Shinhou’s stomach growl, but he did not possess a single bronze coin to his name. Thankfully Emie had given him a few cakes that she made herself, which would have to satisfy him until he could scrounge up enough money for anything else. He walked back up the small road toward the arterial road that led to the docks. But before he could turn onto the main road, a man carrying two chui hammers stepped in his way. He was heavyset, wearing a loose inner robe only, with his hair tied in a large and sloppy bun at the top of his head.

“You went to see Emie, didn’t you?” the man demanded.

Shinhou blinked a few times, first surprised at this encounter and then trying to think of how to reply. Years of clerical life had trained him to respond to aggression in a controlled manner. He could feel himself wanting to break free from that control — maybe the main benefit he could glean from leaving the Order — but decided it was probably not worth it.

Shinhou held his hand vertically in front. “May you have immeasurable light and immeasurable life—.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Lecherous monk! Do you have no shame?” the man demanded. “Breaking your vows by fucking ladies of the night! With the donations of the poor and desperate!”

Nevermind that he had only ever used money that he earned from official ceremonies for his private matters, or that most regular citizens could only afford to pay him in food because they had no money, or that he was sure whatever Emie had charged him was much below what she should have. Shinhou decided in that moment that he had had enough of the general citizenry, and was not going to be taking this abuse any longer.

“So how is it that you wish to resolve this then?” asked Shinhou, planting the butt end of his spade on the ground.

The man pointed one hammer toward him. “One of us will die tonight. And the winner, will have Emie’s affection.”

Even Shinhou knew that Emie’s affections were probably long gone sometime in her youth, and that they were no longer something that could be won over. But his time with people had also taught him that people needed goals — however misplaced — or many would cease to continue living, whether mentally or physically. There was no way to dissuade this man from his. Shinhou removed his hat, revealing the character for “seal” burned into his Hall of Impression point between his eyes. The man seemed to step back involuntarily, raising his hammers up in a guard. Shinhou could imagine that the mark was intimidating, even if ironically it meant he was stripped of all his strength. Or was all his strength gone? It’s not as if he had a chance to test that yet. Shinhou made as if to channel kai to his Celestial Gathering point, but felt the pang of pain as his body seemed to reject the channel. No, it was definitely gone. He held his spade with the head pointing toward the man.

“Come on then!” Shinhou called out.

The man shook off his dazed expression and held both hammers high, running toward Shinhou. He brought both weapons down on top of Shinhou’s head before quickly switching direction and swiping at him from both sides. Shinhou, who had already preemptively crouched for the overhead attack, managed to drop low to the ground, the two hammers making a deafening clanging sound as they made contact with each other overhead.

Shinhou dropped his spade when he realized he could not match the man’s speed, but he caught a kick in the torso that sent him flying backward across the stone path. Before he could completely get back on his feet the man slammed both hammers down on top of him, further apart to prevent Shinhou from escaping. But Shinhou managed to eject himself forward after planting his hands behind him, quickly rolling underneath the man's legs. He stood up on the other side and slammed his fist on the man's Celestial Gathering point, causing the man to involuntarily drop the hammer in his right hand.

Shinhou picked up the hammer and raised it up, just in time to check the man's attack after he swung around and slammed his hammer against the one Shinhou was holding.

“He's fast. Too fast,” thought Shinhou.

The man wound up again and swiped at Shinhou from below, which Shinhou barely blocked with a point down block by gripping the hammer handle hard with both hands. They continued to exchange blows with the hammers with Shinhou barely keeping up.

The man suddenly backed up and pointed the hammer at Shinhou. He had a confused look on his face. “Are you not Shinhou the monk?”

“I am he,” said Shinhou. “Is something the matter?”

“You are not using any kai techniques. And you are marked like some sort of prisoner or criminal. Did you just escape from the imperial prison? Are you impersonating Shinhou the monk to leave the city?”

“I was expelled from the Order.”

“Expelled? No one's ever been expelled from the Order.”

It was true enough that such incidents were rare. Rare enough that a layperson would not recognize just how serious the marks on Shinhou’s body were.

“I'm not sure I would have any reason to lie if it would get you to leave me in peace. I am Shinhou the monk.”

The man began twirling the hammer. “I've heard about your legendary techniques. Why not use them? You insult me by holding back. I trained for a long time to be able to fight you, you know.”

Shinhou was sure if he really used his techniques the man would be dead, though that thought disturbed him as soon as it came into his head He had never killed anyone, in keeping with his vows. Even as much as the man annoyed him, that was one vow he intended to keep.

“So are we done?” asked Shinhou.

“Will you come here again?” the man asked, seeming to lose interest in the fight.

“I am leaving the island.”

“So you are a criminal posing as Shinhou the monk.”

“I seem unable to persuade you otherwise. So you shall believe whatever story best fits your narrative. The truth is though that I am tired of this place and I want to leave. You are preventing me from doing so. So will you let me go?”

“Will you come to the Blue Flowers again?”

“No.”

The man dropped the hammer head to the ground, placing both his hands on the other end and leaning on the weapon. “Good. Whether you are Shinhou the monk or not, something about you rubs me the wrong way. If I see you here again, one of us is not leaving alive.”

Though that comment made him want to swipe his hammer against the man’s skull, between the hunger and his eagerness to get to the docks while people were yet awake, Shinhou felt this fight was not worth it anymore. He dropped the hammer he was holding and walked slowly to where his spade lay. “If that is what you wish, we can deal with it then.” He did not feel like repeating that he was really not coming back. The man seemed satisfied enough with Shinhou's answer and took the second hammer from the ground. He then walked down the path toward the Tower of the Blue Flowers without looking back. Shinhou picked up his hat and placed it on his head before retrieving his spade. He then turned up onto the road that led to the docks.