Spoiler: show
“Seven samurai killed in cold blood,” Captain Tatsuya rumbled from his elevated platform, “and we have yet to apprehend the Midnight Assassin.” He somehow fixed his glare on each of us at once.
Several heads of dark hair dipped toward the ground; mine wasn’t among them. My head remained near even with the tallest in the meeting hall, which made me stand out, since I’m female. Noticeably so, I like to think...
Being reprimanded isn’t my idea of a good time, but the feel of Captain’s baritone rattled my bones; deep voices really did something for me.
The Captain’s eyes swept the room as he continued, scarred hands folded in his lap. “Midnight has only targeted skilled swordsman. Unarmed civilians are safe. This is the only reprieve we have. Last month’s victim was a member of the Shogun’s Inner Circle.”
Cold worry started brewing in my stomach.
“Shortly after the killing, I received a personal letter from Our Lord.”
I bit my lip. For only two reasons did the Shogun deign to pick up a pen. To compose a glowing testimonial of someone who had served him, or to convey a monsoon of displeasure. No great mystery which was addressed to the Captain.
“My orders are simple,” Captain Tatsuya said with complete calm. “Apprehend the assassin, or face dire consequences.”
My stomach clenched as agitated discontent flooded the meeting hall. I knew I wasn’t the only one to imagine the Captain being forced to cut his belly. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“He can’t do that!” one of the officers in front of me shouted, stepping out of formation, fists clenched. I easily recognized Jiro. He and I didn’t get along, but I wouldn’t wish the position he was in on anyone. “Even the Shogun’s handpicked samurai failed against the assassin.”
Captain’s face was stern like worn rock. “Our Lord is well within his rights. I have failed to bring the culprit to justice. I accept responsibility for this, and I alone will be held accountable. Back in ranks, Jiro. Control yourself,” he ordered, tone unforgiving.
I couldn’t see his face, but Jiro’s shoulder’s shook as he bottled whatever he wanted to say. The back of his neck purpled as he slid back into the fold of blue and white robes.
I counted the heartbeats of silence. I prepared myself for words grim enough to match Captain’s expression. Something apocalyptic. He surprised me as a tiny smile crept onto his grizzled face. “I’m not concerned. I have faith in each of you. You won’t fail me, and you won’t fail the city of Osaka.
“There will be no more failures. No more dead men. We will capture this criminal scum before he strikes once more. It is our duty to protect citizens, whether they are armed or not, whether they are the Shogun’s or not. By this time tomorrow, Midnight will be in chains!”
“Yes, Captain!” I shouted, my voice joining a chorus of my samurai peers. I admit, I swooned, just a little bit. I couldn’t have been the only one.
“The festival is still expecting a heavy turnout, despite the danger,” Captain Tatsuya said. “That means the people have faith in us to protect them, so we must not let him slip through our fingers. Midnight has always struck on the full moon, and tonight will be no different. He’s too arrogant to back away from the challenge. The more famous swordsman are being kept under surveillance. Each of them is a potential target, or could possibly even be Midnight themselves. We will keep a strong presence throughout the city to assure every citizen that they are safe.
“However, we will not all patrol in plain sight; I’ve decided to deploy samurai to pose as couples throughout the city, one pair for each of the seven sectors. You will operate within the search grids, blending with crowds to observe any suspicious activity that might otherwise go unnoticed from our usual perspective.”
Now this is my idea of an undercover op. I could relax, hang on to a cute guy’s arm and bum some food off him before my showdown with Midnight. An evening of flirting, food, and fighting. A holy trinity in my book.
The Captain started listing duos. I imagined myself perched on a roof, full to satisfaction with food, basking in moonlight before leaping down to cut Midnight off as he fled. I wasn’t exactly sure how that would work out, but damned if I couldn’t try and make it happen.
“In sector three...”
That’s my sector. I willed the role to me mine. Mine!
“...Kuwabara Kazumi...”
I smirked upon hearing my name.
“...with Tanaka Jiro.”
My smile withered. I bit my tongue to smother a curse. The evening is officially shot to hell.
Jiro is a real misogynistic bastard, very traditional, even has an arranged marriage. Which of course meant no flirting. He didn’t think women should be carrying swords, just umbrellas and babies. He lived in a world entirely different from mine.
And he would be in charge of the operation. Super not good.
“Stay vigilant and protect one another,” the Captain ordered. “These are Midnight’s final hours of freedom! Now go and prepare!”
“Yes, Captain!”
My colleagues of various age and gender began filing out of the hall. Everyone moved with the unified purpose of catching Midnight. It was always been our obligation to capture him and save lives. But now it hit home for us that the Captain was in danger.
I’m usually the first to get pumped up, but thinking of my assigned partner but a damper on my mood. I could see partners selected for the mission meeting up, some quite enthusiastically. I’m probably staring at what will be couples in a month or two. People who worked together in high intensity situations like this usually end up together. I wonder if the Captain realizes what he’s set into motion...
I sighed. Think positive. I suppose this could be an opportunity to change Jiro’s perspective. Enlighten his views with a fabulous display of my fabulous skills.
I adjusted the sword on my back and sought out Jiro. He was in the center of the room. My feet felt heavy with dread as I walked over.
He stared at me with his arms crossed. When he made no move to meet me halfway, I
knew he was waiting for me to come to him, to present myself to him. Typical. I planted my feet on the wooden floor and mirrored his body language with a scowl.
We engaged in a brief and futile stare down. I’m a master of Zen and patience, so I could outlast this bastard easily. Jiro sighed while I indulged herself in an irritated role of the eyes.
Jiro snorted and walked over to me. Even then, even when he wasn’t getting what he wanted, Jiro carried himself in a way that made me want to trip him and feign innocence.
Though it was kinda cute the way he stood ramrod straight whenever we talked. My height bothered him. The funny thing is, my high ponytail probably still eclipsed him.
“Kuwabara, I have seniority,” Jiro said with no preamble
My eyes rolled, completely of their own accord. “I have not forgotten, as you so enjoy reminding me.”
“Then you should have no qualms following my lead during this operation.”
I felt an intense dislike (I don’t believe in hate) for the way he looked at me. He truly lacked appreciation for what I was capable of. Actually, it was worse than that; most people didn’t know what I could do, what I have learned in my lifetime.
Jiro thought ill of me because of my skills.
Before I joined the police force, Jiro suspected little ol’ me of being involved with the assassin. I can’t blame him too severely for being suspicious, I guess. I did roll into Osaka about the time the killings started. And I did the usual, most natural thing that occurs to me when I reach a new population: seek a dojo and challenge its best students. After I found a place that made great dumplings, of course.
I guess my besting the best pupils rubbed some people the wrong way and someone wanted revenge, so they reported me. I don’t know why, I didn’t even kill anyone. You couldn’t toss a rock into one of those schools without hitting a noble, so it must have been a pride thing.
Whoever complained had enough political clout to get the police involved. Jiro was the one to check out my story. I humored him at first, but I got annoyed with being interrogated and giving alibis and maybe I got a little snippy.
Things sorta went downhill from there and Jiro hauled me in. I went willingly. No matter how much fun it would have been to put up a fight, knocking him unconscious would have been more trouble than it was worth.
Once we were at the station, I broke off from Jiro and loudly demanded to know who was in charge. Someone pointed out Captain Tatsuya to me. I marched over to him and demanded to be made a police officer.
I opened a can of boasts the likes of which Osaka had never seen. I went on about my martial skill and keen mind. That capturing Midnight wouldn’t be in question after I joined, just when and how many broken bones he had.
I’m certain that was the most surprised he’d been in a long while, because I haven’t seen his eyebrows jump like that since.
In the hushed silence that ensued, he looked at me for a while, then, without removing his eyes from mine, demanded Jiro’s report of my whereabouts. Jiro delivered it.
Captain Tatsuya nodded and ordered I be handed a uniform.
Jiro still hasn’t let the whole thing go. Maybe it’s because I embarrassed him in front of the Captain and the others. Maybe he really thought I was involved. I’m not.
Though I am related to an assassin... but not this one. And Jiro doesn’t know anything about that. No one in Osaka does.
Jiro’s suspicions had only been silenced by Captain Tatsuya. He told Jiro to drop the matter, and Jiro never said a word of it again. But he made his disapproval of me quite clear with his narrowed eyes and condescending tone.
I don’t know if we’ll both survive being partners. And I wasn’t worried about Midnight.
I ran a hand through my hair. “I might. How do you know I shouldn’t take the lead?”
Jiro looked at me disbelievingly. “You are no more suited to take the lead than you are to be uphold the law. Kuwabara, you are the single most awkward girl on the face of the planet.”
“Ah, but that’s why you love me.”
Jiro gave a long-suffering sigh. “This ruse would be more convincing if there were a real girl accompanying me.”
“Well this,” I said, running my hands from my chest to my hips, “is what you got.”
Jiro grimaced sourly. “You are utterly distasteful.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I looked around the emptying hall and sighed. “Fine, whatever makes you feel like a big, strong man.”
His jaw tightened. “I do see a benefit to this arrangement. This way I will be able to keep an eye on you personally. You had better not give me any reason to think you would sabotage this operation.”
He stared at me. I stared back. Aggressive eye contact isn’t something I’m afraid of, and looking away would be like admitting Jiro was right.
After a moment, I nodded. “You want to keep me in arms reach. Got it.”
His hands tightened. I wonder if his butt would clench next. “You don’t take anything
seriously, do you?”
“I take enough things seriously. Threats just don’t happen to be one of them.”
My blase answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Jiro trembled. His anger blistered on my skin and seeped into my veins. It swept through my arms, crept up my neck, burrowed into my skull.
“Don’t get in my way, Kuwabara,” Jiro said, his voice quiet but harsh. “Don’t slow me down. You may not care what’s at stake here, but it matters to my family.”
The emotion I felt was not my own. It whispered in my ear with a slithering voice to reach for my sword and do something violent. I fought it off, strangled the anger with calmness until the heat of it faded and the voice was quiet. I brushed the dried husk of a feeling off. It left me
with a pain between the eyes.
Outwardly, I only closed my eyes for a peaceful moment. My face gave away no hint of the internal struggle. I hid it almost perfectly.
I’d had practice.
But I understood, in a way I didn’t before, what he was feeling, and how the situation was affecting him. The anger and worry swirling inside of him.
Jiro didn’t want to see his father die. Who would?
If he left with this level of animosity, he would have time to stew in it. Anger would make him sloppy, reckless, and if he did something stupid because of it, something that caused Midnight to escape, he’d never forgive himself. He might even think about joining his father.
I put on a confident smirk and crossed my arms. “Relax. Being tense and biting my head off isn’t going to magically solve this problem.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Jiro said, glowering, but at least it was only partially directed at me. “You don’t have the stake in this that I do.”
I nodded. “I can’t argue with that. But don’t doubt for a second that we both want the same thing. I’m on your side, Jiro. I mean, look at this cute, innocent face. Definitely incapable treachery.”
The tightness around his eyes lessened. “I have to be the one to bring him in,” Jiro said. “Otherwise, even if we catch him, my father may still have to resign.”
Now we can’t have that. I’m rather fond of Captain Tatsuya. “Then it’s a good thing you’re with me. I’m clearly an invaluable, irreplaceable asset. You’d be crazy not to utilize me.”
The tension eased out of shoulders and his mouth twitched. Jiro snorted. “You’re a violent girl with a stick.”
I cleared my throat, affronted. Tugging on the sword strapped to my back, I corrected him. “This is a wooden katana.”
“Kuwabara... what’s wrong with you? How can you be so calm about this?”
I shrugged. “I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”
He gave me a dubious stare. “You have?”
“Yep!” It was only a partial lie. I had at least been around while dangerous people had been brought in. Or, failing that, at least when their bodies were recovered.
I threw one arm around his shoulders and gave him a thumbs up with the other. “We got this.”
Jiro growled and shook me off. “Improper conduct, Kuwabara. Unbefitting of an officer.”
A laugh bubbled from my throat. “You’re not going to be a very affectionate date.”
Instead of responding, he inspected my clothing. Despite the jokes I want to make at his expense, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t thinking what most guys would be.
“You will have to wear feminine garbs in order to be remotely convincing. Do you at least have something suitable?”
I shrugged. “I should be okay. As long as you don’t show up with something jewel encrusted, I’ll barely look like crap.”
“I’ll try to restrain my glorious radiance to a dim flare,” he said dryly. “I’ll pick you up in three hours. That will give us time to show up casually like any couple would. Then we can drift through the streets to begin our search.”
“Fine,” I said, mentally flipping through robes I could conceal weaponry in. I stopped and blinked when his words caught up with me. “Wait, pick me up, as in at my place?” I asked.
Jiro nodded.
“Screw that, we both live in sector three, right? We’ll just meet halfway.”
He snorted, turning to leave. “Nonsense. What kind of man fails to escort his date? An irregularity like that would blow our cover. From the moment you step through the front door, you’re my responsibility.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, crossing my arms.
Jiro’s departing words were, “That’s an order, Kuwabara.”
Bastard. I thumbed my nose up and gave his back the best pig-face I could manage.
I felt eyes on me and noticed the few others remaining in the assembly hall staring at me like I had two heads. I cleared my throat and scurried out of the building.
First thing I have to do is bathe. I need to smell as prim and pampered as possible. And I do so enjoy a good soak. The thought of doing so before a fight seems almost ritualistic to me.
I’ll probably wear my hair differently. I keep it in a ponytail for the sake of practicality compromising with aesthetic appeal. I prefer my hair long, but well out reach of anyone I’m fighting. Maybe I’ll wear it in a bun. But it always ends up lopsided if I don’t have any help.
“It’s about time you came out, bitch. How long were you planning to keep us waiting?”
I recognized the self-entitlement laden in those words and I have no appreciation for it. I turned my head.
Three boys with wooden swords fastened to their waists. Their stances were aggressive. They smelled clean but spoiled. Hands soft like dough.
I recognized them. Students belonging to one of the posh sword schools I embarrassed. I don’t know their names. They don’t really matter.
“You guys again?” I glance up at the position of the sun. It was setting. “Wow, is it time for your daily emasculation already?”
The boy that had so graciously called me out of name sneered. “We’re going to pay you back. You made it so our senior couldn’t show his face at the dojo.”
I tilted my head. “I broke his ribs, I didn’t scar his face. Unless...” I scratched my cheek. “Wait, which school are you guys from? I might be thinking of someone of else.”
The one on the right took a step forward that I suppose was meant to be threatening. “You arrogant wench!”
Rude.
“Perhaps a trip to the dojo will refresh your memory.” He jerked his head in a direction opposite my destination. “We’re going to defeat and humble you before of our master.”
I can’t help but think of a lioness being yipped at by three puppies. Poodles. With bows. I stifled a laugh and shook my head. “I don’t have a lot of time to waste, so we’ll fight here.”
“If you wish to be beaten in the street, fine.”
The exceptionally rude boy took another step. “I want first crack at her.”
Like I was going to waste that kind of time. “Nah, all three of you, let’s go, right now.”
“You really think you can take all of us at once?”
“Yes,” I answered, straight-faced. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
They looked at each other and nodded. “We accept.” Confident.
But foolhardy.
“Good.” I nodded at a spot on the ground.
The leader, or at least the most obnoxious among them, scowled and tossed a small sack onto the ground. It clanked with the sound of metal brushing metal.
There were three coins in it. There had better be, or I was gonna go fishing in their clothes after I won.
I crouched, my right hand curling like a tiger’s claw. My left became a fist, knuckles skyward. “Well?” I asked.
The boy in the middle went for his training sword.
I sprang forward, on him in two strides. His draw was clumsy, slow. My hand clamped his, nails digging, keeping him from pulling the sword. I punched him in the stomach, under his crossed arm. Air wheezed through his gaping mouth.
I replaced my fist with a swift knee. I could have crushed his testicles, but that would have been excessive. No point ending a noble bloodline in a spar.
I hooked my ankle behind his right leg and pushed him back. He was weightless from pain, which made him easy to maneuver. I pivoted, my hand still on his sword arm. We spun in a circle, like dance partners. I used my grip on his own to aim the tip of his sword, and his body weight to drive it into rude boy’s sternum.
I slid my grip to his wrist, my nails raking across his skin. His limp hand fell from the hilt, and my left hand claimed its place. I spun, drawing his sword away from him, and kicked his chest. He crashed into his equally breathless friend. They went down.
I drew my own sword from my back as I faced the last.
Ugh, wielding two full length swords. I feel so tacky.
The third student of whatever school had finally drawn his sword. He shook like a leaf and kept glancing at his fallen brother disciples.
I gave him a plaintive smile, flashing my teeth.
He screamed and lunged with a high strike.
I intercepted with the left sword, the centers of both wooden blades striking. I raised my arm and turned my wrist, sliding the sword along the other as my right sword struck on the opposite side near the handle, tearing it from his fumbling grip.
I raised my arm and brought it down toward his face. I stopped an inch short of shattering his nose. His eyes crossed to stare at the smooth, charcoal colored pine. He squeaked and fell on his butt, staring up at me with naked fear. The boy was beaten.
But he knew that before he attacked.
Broken bones are the best teachers there are. If you can’t learn from them, you can’t learn from anything.
I swung my sword down. It cracked against his arm and something caved.
He opened his mouth to scream, but I shut it with a kick. He was unconscious before the spray of blood hit the ground.
Nodding, I looked at the other two. They groaned, writhing on the ground, but not getting up.
I dropped the sham of a wooden sword, letting it clatter on the ground. Then I refastened my own to my back.
I picked up the coin sack waiting for me and peeked inside. Three golden coins. Perfect.
Strolling over to the fallen boys, I began my lecture.
“See, your first mistake was agreeing to fight me with this much open space,” I said, wagging my finger. “In a dojo, I wouldn’t be as free to maneuver. I’d be easier to cage.”
I stopped at the heap of moaning wannabe samurai. I crouched down, resting my chin in one hand and dangling the sack with the other. “Your second mistake was agreeing to fight me three on one. You three aren’t trained to fight as a coordinated unit, so you end up getting in each others’ way. You would have been better off fighting me one at a time, saving your strongest fighter for last while he observed my technique for exploitable weaknesses.
“And your third mistake was the biggest: seeking me out. You’re not better than the best in your dojo, and I beat the best. Only an idiot looks for an opponent they know is superior, unless they’re desperate. And there was nothing at stake here, nothing for you to gain.”
My face screwed up in thought. “Wait. I guess your third was chronologically your first. Which makes your second third, and your third... first?” I gave my head a shake. “Uh, anyway, you know what I meant.”
The blustering boy with the bloody wrist said something I didn’t catch.
I knelt closer. “What?”
He gasped and painstakingly said, “Pride, wench. Our pride is on the line.”
“Huh. Okay. Don’t you guys look like proud, dignified, young noblemen? Well, I must be going,” I said, standing. “If you feel like losing some more money, you know where to find me.”
I hummed and began tossing the sack in the air. It felt like breakfast lunch and dinner for a week. Stands were setting up in preparation for the festival and mouth-watering smells were already trying to entice me. I was tempted to get something now, but I didn’t want to spoil my appetite for what I could get Jiro to buy me.
I wonder when they’ll recover and try to challenge me again; they probably wouldn’t learn their lesson this time. Maybe I should double my fee. I wouldn’t charge those three idiots if they were poor orphans trying to learn how to defend themselves from the gaggle of people who would take advantage of them. But they were each from wealthy families. They had comfortable beds to keep them warm.
I like to think of my price as a tax for pride. Beating the best and charging for inevitable challenges was usually made my living in each new place I visited.
And I relished feeling like baddest around town. It was new to me since I was traveling on my own now. Though I probably couldn’t take on everyone in the city at once. Probably.
I took a small detour from my apartment, cutting away from sweet, promising smells to the outskirts of the city. Buildings started to become less fresh until they became worn, sour shades of brown and grey. Sector seven, where the poorest in Osaka gathered.
Once, the buildings had been the start of a small town. But over time, as the town expanded into a city, the buildings were abandoned. The shacks were decrepit but standing. And poor shelter was usually better than no shelter, unless it was coming down on your head.
The people of sector seven stared; men with worn working hands, women, a few with swollen bellies, and wide eyed toddlers. The sight of most other officers would have sent them ducking their heads. Sector seven was one of the first places to look for thieves and scoundrels attempting to blend in, and lives were usually turned upside down. But they know I don’t come by to cause trouble for any of them.
My destination was the shack furthest from civilization and closest to wilderness.
I walked up the three stairs, each step creaking louder than the last. I didn’t dare trust the guardrail. There wasn’t a door, just a red curtain with yellow weaving that looked like waves of water. I knocked on the frame, careful not to pummel the aged wood into splinters.
“Old lady, you in there?” I shouted.
No response. I brushed past the curtain. I didn’t see her anywhere, and the bed of straw and fabric was empty. She must be out foraging for berries.
Part of the roof was missing, and rays of dying sun poked through what was left of it. I’ll have to come by and attempt to repair it before winter. I had to crouch under a collapsed support beam that stretched from the caved-in side of the house, and the debris that cluttered around it.
Near the bed was a bowl with knitting needles and balls of yarn varying in colors that probably didn’t go together. I don’t know what you can make that’s pink and brown.
I tossed two of the coins into the ceramic bowl. The sound they made flushed me with a warm feeling. I turned to leave.
And came face to face with a ghost.
I’m not proud of the sound that came out of my mouth. Probably sounded like, “Kya!”
“Ah!” she screamed, throwing her hands up. The basket she held careened through the air in a perfect arc to land on my head.
I snatched the basket off. I glanced inside. There were blueberries, wildflowers and...
Dear God I hope that isn’t poison ivy.
I let out a nervous giggle. “You scared me, Ume.”
“Oh, so sorry, Kazuma.” She bowed her head of grey several times and smiled at me with teeth tinted yellow. She started picking up what had fallen from the basket. I, uh, I held the basket for her. Tentatively.
I guess I’m Kazuma today. That’s a guy’s name, but alright. “I left some money for you in the usual place.”
She looked back and forth, her eyes settled on the far wall. She blinked owlishly “The chimney?” she asked.
“Uh, in the bowl, Ume. With the yarn.”
Her smile stretched her wrinkles wide enough I worried she’d hurt herself. “Such a sweet girl!”
She patted my head. I took it, folding my grimace into what I’m sure was a deformed smile. Small mercy that it was the hand she’d used for berries.
“You’re so good to your elders, Kazuma.”
Someone had to be. Ume didn’t have anyone to take care of her. I’ve heard rumors that she was the original owner of the house and lost her family in a tragic accident. She refused to leave even as the house crumbled around her.
Once, some thugs caught wind of my charitable nature, and decided it would be an easy score. They conned the old lady into giving up her money. It was a week before she told me about it in a shambled narrative that took some time to piece together.
I tracked them down. They payed back what they had stolen.
With considerable interest.
I can’t right every wrong. Hell, I didn’t even have enough for everyone in sector seven. But what difference I can make, I will.
“I made you something, Kazuma,” Ume said, shuffling over to her bed.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense. A good girl like you deserves a present.” She pulled something away from a large whicker basket. It was a scarf, pink squares and brown squares. I stand corrected about the colors, because the scarf actually looked really nice.
She shuffled over to me, offering it. “It’s going to get cold soon.”
A smiled touched my lips as I accepted it. “Thanks, Ume. Be sure to make one for yourse-”
Ume pulled out a matching scarf with a reverse color pattern. She wrapped in around her neck. “What were you saying?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. I mean, forget it. I mean!” I shut my trap and breathed a sigh. “I have to go, Ume. Pretty busy night. Take care of yourself.”
She waved. “You too, dear.”
I headed to the room I was renting. I’m certain the itching on my head was just in my imagination, as was the itch that soon followed on my hands. But my legs were convinced otherwise and speed up into a brisk jog.
Time to get ready for my date with the assassin.
Boy was Jiro gonna feel like a third wheel.
Several heads of dark hair dipped toward the ground; mine wasn’t among them. My head remained near even with the tallest in the meeting hall, which made me stand out, since I’m female. Noticeably so, I like to think...
Being reprimanded isn’t my idea of a good time, but the feel of Captain’s baritone rattled my bones; deep voices really did something for me.
The Captain’s eyes swept the room as he continued, scarred hands folded in his lap. “Midnight has only targeted skilled swordsman. Unarmed civilians are safe. This is the only reprieve we have. Last month’s victim was a member of the Shogun’s Inner Circle.”
Cold worry started brewing in my stomach.
“Shortly after the killing, I received a personal letter from Our Lord.”
I bit my lip. For only two reasons did the Shogun deign to pick up a pen. To compose a glowing testimonial of someone who had served him, or to convey a monsoon of displeasure. No great mystery which was addressed to the Captain.
“My orders are simple,” Captain Tatsuya said with complete calm. “Apprehend the assassin, or face dire consequences.”
My stomach clenched as agitated discontent flooded the meeting hall. I knew I wasn’t the only one to imagine the Captain being forced to cut his belly. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“He can’t do that!” one of the officers in front of me shouted, stepping out of formation, fists clenched. I easily recognized Jiro. He and I didn’t get along, but I wouldn’t wish the position he was in on anyone. “Even the Shogun’s handpicked samurai failed against the assassin.”
Captain’s face was stern like worn rock. “Our Lord is well within his rights. I have failed to bring the culprit to justice. I accept responsibility for this, and I alone will be held accountable. Back in ranks, Jiro. Control yourself,” he ordered, tone unforgiving.
I couldn’t see his face, but Jiro’s shoulder’s shook as he bottled whatever he wanted to say. The back of his neck purpled as he slid back into the fold of blue and white robes.
I counted the heartbeats of silence. I prepared myself for words grim enough to match Captain’s expression. Something apocalyptic. He surprised me as a tiny smile crept onto his grizzled face. “I’m not concerned. I have faith in each of you. You won’t fail me, and you won’t fail the city of Osaka.
“There will be no more failures. No more dead men. We will capture this criminal scum before he strikes once more. It is our duty to protect citizens, whether they are armed or not, whether they are the Shogun’s or not. By this time tomorrow, Midnight will be in chains!”
“Yes, Captain!” I shouted, my voice joining a chorus of my samurai peers. I admit, I swooned, just a little bit. I couldn’t have been the only one.
“The festival is still expecting a heavy turnout, despite the danger,” Captain Tatsuya said. “That means the people have faith in us to protect them, so we must not let him slip through our fingers. Midnight has always struck on the full moon, and tonight will be no different. He’s too arrogant to back away from the challenge. The more famous swordsman are being kept under surveillance. Each of them is a potential target, or could possibly even be Midnight themselves. We will keep a strong presence throughout the city to assure every citizen that they are safe.
“However, we will not all patrol in plain sight; I’ve decided to deploy samurai to pose as couples throughout the city, one pair for each of the seven sectors. You will operate within the search grids, blending with crowds to observe any suspicious activity that might otherwise go unnoticed from our usual perspective.”
Now this is my idea of an undercover op. I could relax, hang on to a cute guy’s arm and bum some food off him before my showdown with Midnight. An evening of flirting, food, and fighting. A holy trinity in my book.
The Captain started listing duos. I imagined myself perched on a roof, full to satisfaction with food, basking in moonlight before leaping down to cut Midnight off as he fled. I wasn’t exactly sure how that would work out, but damned if I couldn’t try and make it happen.
“In sector three...”
That’s my sector. I willed the role to me mine. Mine!
“...Kuwabara Kazumi...”
I smirked upon hearing my name.
“...with Tanaka Jiro.”
My smile withered. I bit my tongue to smother a curse. The evening is officially shot to hell.
Jiro is a real misogynistic bastard, very traditional, even has an arranged marriage. Which of course meant no flirting. He didn’t think women should be carrying swords, just umbrellas and babies. He lived in a world entirely different from mine.
And he would be in charge of the operation. Super not good.
“Stay vigilant and protect one another,” the Captain ordered. “These are Midnight’s final hours of freedom! Now go and prepare!”
“Yes, Captain!”
My colleagues of various age and gender began filing out of the hall. Everyone moved with the unified purpose of catching Midnight. It was always been our obligation to capture him and save lives. But now it hit home for us that the Captain was in danger.
I’m usually the first to get pumped up, but thinking of my assigned partner but a damper on my mood. I could see partners selected for the mission meeting up, some quite enthusiastically. I’m probably staring at what will be couples in a month or two. People who worked together in high intensity situations like this usually end up together. I wonder if the Captain realizes what he’s set into motion...
I sighed. Think positive. I suppose this could be an opportunity to change Jiro’s perspective. Enlighten his views with a fabulous display of my fabulous skills.
I adjusted the sword on my back and sought out Jiro. He was in the center of the room. My feet felt heavy with dread as I walked over.
He stared at me with his arms crossed. When he made no move to meet me halfway, I
knew he was waiting for me to come to him, to present myself to him. Typical. I planted my feet on the wooden floor and mirrored his body language with a scowl.
We engaged in a brief and futile stare down. I’m a master of Zen and patience, so I could outlast this bastard easily. Jiro sighed while I indulged herself in an irritated role of the eyes.
Jiro snorted and walked over to me. Even then, even when he wasn’t getting what he wanted, Jiro carried himself in a way that made me want to trip him and feign innocence.
Though it was kinda cute the way he stood ramrod straight whenever we talked. My height bothered him. The funny thing is, my high ponytail probably still eclipsed him.
“Kuwabara, I have seniority,” Jiro said with no preamble
My eyes rolled, completely of their own accord. “I have not forgotten, as you so enjoy reminding me.”
“Then you should have no qualms following my lead during this operation.”
I felt an intense dislike (I don’t believe in hate) for the way he looked at me. He truly lacked appreciation for what I was capable of. Actually, it was worse than that; most people didn’t know what I could do, what I have learned in my lifetime.
Jiro thought ill of me because of my skills.
Before I joined the police force, Jiro suspected little ol’ me of being involved with the assassin. I can’t blame him too severely for being suspicious, I guess. I did roll into Osaka about the time the killings started. And I did the usual, most natural thing that occurs to me when I reach a new population: seek a dojo and challenge its best students. After I found a place that made great dumplings, of course.
I guess my besting the best pupils rubbed some people the wrong way and someone wanted revenge, so they reported me. I don’t know why, I didn’t even kill anyone. You couldn’t toss a rock into one of those schools without hitting a noble, so it must have been a pride thing.
Whoever complained had enough political clout to get the police involved. Jiro was the one to check out my story. I humored him at first, but I got annoyed with being interrogated and giving alibis and maybe I got a little snippy.
Things sorta went downhill from there and Jiro hauled me in. I went willingly. No matter how much fun it would have been to put up a fight, knocking him unconscious would have been more trouble than it was worth.
Once we were at the station, I broke off from Jiro and loudly demanded to know who was in charge. Someone pointed out Captain Tatsuya to me. I marched over to him and demanded to be made a police officer.
I opened a can of boasts the likes of which Osaka had never seen. I went on about my martial skill and keen mind. That capturing Midnight wouldn’t be in question after I joined, just when and how many broken bones he had.
I’m certain that was the most surprised he’d been in a long while, because I haven’t seen his eyebrows jump like that since.
In the hushed silence that ensued, he looked at me for a while, then, without removing his eyes from mine, demanded Jiro’s report of my whereabouts. Jiro delivered it.
Captain Tatsuya nodded and ordered I be handed a uniform.
Jiro still hasn’t let the whole thing go. Maybe it’s because I embarrassed him in front of the Captain and the others. Maybe he really thought I was involved. I’m not.
Though I am related to an assassin... but not this one. And Jiro doesn’t know anything about that. No one in Osaka does.
Jiro’s suspicions had only been silenced by Captain Tatsuya. He told Jiro to drop the matter, and Jiro never said a word of it again. But he made his disapproval of me quite clear with his narrowed eyes and condescending tone.
I don’t know if we’ll both survive being partners. And I wasn’t worried about Midnight.
I ran a hand through my hair. “I might. How do you know I shouldn’t take the lead?”
Jiro looked at me disbelievingly. “You are no more suited to take the lead than you are to be uphold the law. Kuwabara, you are the single most awkward girl on the face of the planet.”
“Ah, but that’s why you love me.”
Jiro gave a long-suffering sigh. “This ruse would be more convincing if there were a real girl accompanying me.”
“Well this,” I said, running my hands from my chest to my hips, “is what you got.”
Jiro grimaced sourly. “You are utterly distasteful.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I looked around the emptying hall and sighed. “Fine, whatever makes you feel like a big, strong man.”
His jaw tightened. “I do see a benefit to this arrangement. This way I will be able to keep an eye on you personally. You had better not give me any reason to think you would sabotage this operation.”
He stared at me. I stared back. Aggressive eye contact isn’t something I’m afraid of, and looking away would be like admitting Jiro was right.
After a moment, I nodded. “You want to keep me in arms reach. Got it.”
His hands tightened. I wonder if his butt would clench next. “You don’t take anything
seriously, do you?”
“I take enough things seriously. Threats just don’t happen to be one of them.”
My blase answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Jiro trembled. His anger blistered on my skin and seeped into my veins. It swept through my arms, crept up my neck, burrowed into my skull.
“Don’t get in my way, Kuwabara,” Jiro said, his voice quiet but harsh. “Don’t slow me down. You may not care what’s at stake here, but it matters to my family.”
The emotion I felt was not my own. It whispered in my ear with a slithering voice to reach for my sword and do something violent. I fought it off, strangled the anger with calmness until the heat of it faded and the voice was quiet. I brushed the dried husk of a feeling off. It left me
with a pain between the eyes.
Outwardly, I only closed my eyes for a peaceful moment. My face gave away no hint of the internal struggle. I hid it almost perfectly.
I’d had practice.
But I understood, in a way I didn’t before, what he was feeling, and how the situation was affecting him. The anger and worry swirling inside of him.
Jiro didn’t want to see his father die. Who would?
If he left with this level of animosity, he would have time to stew in it. Anger would make him sloppy, reckless, and if he did something stupid because of it, something that caused Midnight to escape, he’d never forgive himself. He might even think about joining his father.
I put on a confident smirk and crossed my arms. “Relax. Being tense and biting my head off isn’t going to magically solve this problem.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Jiro said, glowering, but at least it was only partially directed at me. “You don’t have the stake in this that I do.”
I nodded. “I can’t argue with that. But don’t doubt for a second that we both want the same thing. I’m on your side, Jiro. I mean, look at this cute, innocent face. Definitely incapable treachery.”
The tightness around his eyes lessened. “I have to be the one to bring him in,” Jiro said. “Otherwise, even if we catch him, my father may still have to resign.”
Now we can’t have that. I’m rather fond of Captain Tatsuya. “Then it’s a good thing you’re with me. I’m clearly an invaluable, irreplaceable asset. You’d be crazy not to utilize me.”
The tension eased out of shoulders and his mouth twitched. Jiro snorted. “You’re a violent girl with a stick.”
I cleared my throat, affronted. Tugging on the sword strapped to my back, I corrected him. “This is a wooden katana.”
“Kuwabara... what’s wrong with you? How can you be so calm about this?”
I shrugged. “I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.”
He gave me a dubious stare. “You have?”
“Yep!” It was only a partial lie. I had at least been around while dangerous people had been brought in. Or, failing that, at least when their bodies were recovered.
I threw one arm around his shoulders and gave him a thumbs up with the other. “We got this.”
Jiro growled and shook me off. “Improper conduct, Kuwabara. Unbefitting of an officer.”
A laugh bubbled from my throat. “You’re not going to be a very affectionate date.”
Instead of responding, he inspected my clothing. Despite the jokes I want to make at his expense, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t thinking what most guys would be.
“You will have to wear feminine garbs in order to be remotely convincing. Do you at least have something suitable?”
I shrugged. “I should be okay. As long as you don’t show up with something jewel encrusted, I’ll barely look like crap.”
“I’ll try to restrain my glorious radiance to a dim flare,” he said dryly. “I’ll pick you up in three hours. That will give us time to show up casually like any couple would. Then we can drift through the streets to begin our search.”
“Fine,” I said, mentally flipping through robes I could conceal weaponry in. I stopped and blinked when his words caught up with me. “Wait, pick me up, as in at my place?” I asked.
Jiro nodded.
“Screw that, we both live in sector three, right? We’ll just meet halfway.”
He snorted, turning to leave. “Nonsense. What kind of man fails to escort his date? An irregularity like that would blow our cover. From the moment you step through the front door, you’re my responsibility.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, crossing my arms.
Jiro’s departing words were, “That’s an order, Kuwabara.”
Bastard. I thumbed my nose up and gave his back the best pig-face I could manage.
I felt eyes on me and noticed the few others remaining in the assembly hall staring at me like I had two heads. I cleared my throat and scurried out of the building.
First thing I have to do is bathe. I need to smell as prim and pampered as possible. And I do so enjoy a good soak. The thought of doing so before a fight seems almost ritualistic to me.
I’ll probably wear my hair differently. I keep it in a ponytail for the sake of practicality compromising with aesthetic appeal. I prefer my hair long, but well out reach of anyone I’m fighting. Maybe I’ll wear it in a bun. But it always ends up lopsided if I don’t have any help.
“It’s about time you came out, bitch. How long were you planning to keep us waiting?”
I recognized the self-entitlement laden in those words and I have no appreciation for it. I turned my head.
Three boys with wooden swords fastened to their waists. Their stances were aggressive. They smelled clean but spoiled. Hands soft like dough.
I recognized them. Students belonging to one of the posh sword schools I embarrassed. I don’t know their names. They don’t really matter.
“You guys again?” I glance up at the position of the sun. It was setting. “Wow, is it time for your daily emasculation already?”
The boy that had so graciously called me out of name sneered. “We’re going to pay you back. You made it so our senior couldn’t show his face at the dojo.”
I tilted my head. “I broke his ribs, I didn’t scar his face. Unless...” I scratched my cheek. “Wait, which school are you guys from? I might be thinking of someone of else.”
The one on the right took a step forward that I suppose was meant to be threatening. “You arrogant wench!”
Rude.
“Perhaps a trip to the dojo will refresh your memory.” He jerked his head in a direction opposite my destination. “We’re going to defeat and humble you before of our master.”
I can’t help but think of a lioness being yipped at by three puppies. Poodles. With bows. I stifled a laugh and shook my head. “I don’t have a lot of time to waste, so we’ll fight here.”
“If you wish to be beaten in the street, fine.”
The exceptionally rude boy took another step. “I want first crack at her.”
Like I was going to waste that kind of time. “Nah, all three of you, let’s go, right now.”
“You really think you can take all of us at once?”
“Yes,” I answered, straight-faced. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
They looked at each other and nodded. “We accept.” Confident.
But foolhardy.
“Good.” I nodded at a spot on the ground.
The leader, or at least the most obnoxious among them, scowled and tossed a small sack onto the ground. It clanked with the sound of metal brushing metal.
There were three coins in it. There had better be, or I was gonna go fishing in their clothes after I won.
I crouched, my right hand curling like a tiger’s claw. My left became a fist, knuckles skyward. “Well?” I asked.
The boy in the middle went for his training sword.
I sprang forward, on him in two strides. His draw was clumsy, slow. My hand clamped his, nails digging, keeping him from pulling the sword. I punched him in the stomach, under his crossed arm. Air wheezed through his gaping mouth.
I replaced my fist with a swift knee. I could have crushed his testicles, but that would have been excessive. No point ending a noble bloodline in a spar.
I hooked my ankle behind his right leg and pushed him back. He was weightless from pain, which made him easy to maneuver. I pivoted, my hand still on his sword arm. We spun in a circle, like dance partners. I used my grip on his own to aim the tip of his sword, and his body weight to drive it into rude boy’s sternum.
I slid my grip to his wrist, my nails raking across his skin. His limp hand fell from the hilt, and my left hand claimed its place. I spun, drawing his sword away from him, and kicked his chest. He crashed into his equally breathless friend. They went down.
I drew my own sword from my back as I faced the last.
Ugh, wielding two full length swords. I feel so tacky.
The third student of whatever school had finally drawn his sword. He shook like a leaf and kept glancing at his fallen brother disciples.
I gave him a plaintive smile, flashing my teeth.
He screamed and lunged with a high strike.
I intercepted with the left sword, the centers of both wooden blades striking. I raised my arm and turned my wrist, sliding the sword along the other as my right sword struck on the opposite side near the handle, tearing it from his fumbling grip.
I raised my arm and brought it down toward his face. I stopped an inch short of shattering his nose. His eyes crossed to stare at the smooth, charcoal colored pine. He squeaked and fell on his butt, staring up at me with naked fear. The boy was beaten.
But he knew that before he attacked.
Broken bones are the best teachers there are. If you can’t learn from them, you can’t learn from anything.
I swung my sword down. It cracked against his arm and something caved.
He opened his mouth to scream, but I shut it with a kick. He was unconscious before the spray of blood hit the ground.
Nodding, I looked at the other two. They groaned, writhing on the ground, but not getting up.
I dropped the sham of a wooden sword, letting it clatter on the ground. Then I refastened my own to my back.
I picked up the coin sack waiting for me and peeked inside. Three golden coins. Perfect.
Strolling over to the fallen boys, I began my lecture.
“See, your first mistake was agreeing to fight me with this much open space,” I said, wagging my finger. “In a dojo, I wouldn’t be as free to maneuver. I’d be easier to cage.”
I stopped at the heap of moaning wannabe samurai. I crouched down, resting my chin in one hand and dangling the sack with the other. “Your second mistake was agreeing to fight me three on one. You three aren’t trained to fight as a coordinated unit, so you end up getting in each others’ way. You would have been better off fighting me one at a time, saving your strongest fighter for last while he observed my technique for exploitable weaknesses.
“And your third mistake was the biggest: seeking me out. You’re not better than the best in your dojo, and I beat the best. Only an idiot looks for an opponent they know is superior, unless they’re desperate. And there was nothing at stake here, nothing for you to gain.”
My face screwed up in thought. “Wait. I guess your third was chronologically your first. Which makes your second third, and your third... first?” I gave my head a shake. “Uh, anyway, you know what I meant.”
The blustering boy with the bloody wrist said something I didn’t catch.
I knelt closer. “What?”
He gasped and painstakingly said, “Pride, wench. Our pride is on the line.”
“Huh. Okay. Don’t you guys look like proud, dignified, young noblemen? Well, I must be going,” I said, standing. “If you feel like losing some more money, you know where to find me.”
I hummed and began tossing the sack in the air. It felt like breakfast lunch and dinner for a week. Stands were setting up in preparation for the festival and mouth-watering smells were already trying to entice me. I was tempted to get something now, but I didn’t want to spoil my appetite for what I could get Jiro to buy me.
I wonder when they’ll recover and try to challenge me again; they probably wouldn’t learn their lesson this time. Maybe I should double my fee. I wouldn’t charge those three idiots if they were poor orphans trying to learn how to defend themselves from the gaggle of people who would take advantage of them. But they were each from wealthy families. They had comfortable beds to keep them warm.
I like to think of my price as a tax for pride. Beating the best and charging for inevitable challenges was usually made my living in each new place I visited.
And I relished feeling like baddest around town. It was new to me since I was traveling on my own now. Though I probably couldn’t take on everyone in the city at once. Probably.
I took a small detour from my apartment, cutting away from sweet, promising smells to the outskirts of the city. Buildings started to become less fresh until they became worn, sour shades of brown and grey. Sector seven, where the poorest in Osaka gathered.
Once, the buildings had been the start of a small town. But over time, as the town expanded into a city, the buildings were abandoned. The shacks were decrepit but standing. And poor shelter was usually better than no shelter, unless it was coming down on your head.
The people of sector seven stared; men with worn working hands, women, a few with swollen bellies, and wide eyed toddlers. The sight of most other officers would have sent them ducking their heads. Sector seven was one of the first places to look for thieves and scoundrels attempting to blend in, and lives were usually turned upside down. But they know I don’t come by to cause trouble for any of them.
My destination was the shack furthest from civilization and closest to wilderness.
I walked up the three stairs, each step creaking louder than the last. I didn’t dare trust the guardrail. There wasn’t a door, just a red curtain with yellow weaving that looked like waves of water. I knocked on the frame, careful not to pummel the aged wood into splinters.
“Old lady, you in there?” I shouted.
No response. I brushed past the curtain. I didn’t see her anywhere, and the bed of straw and fabric was empty. She must be out foraging for berries.
Part of the roof was missing, and rays of dying sun poked through what was left of it. I’ll have to come by and attempt to repair it before winter. I had to crouch under a collapsed support beam that stretched from the caved-in side of the house, and the debris that cluttered around it.
Near the bed was a bowl with knitting needles and balls of yarn varying in colors that probably didn’t go together. I don’t know what you can make that’s pink and brown.
I tossed two of the coins into the ceramic bowl. The sound they made flushed me with a warm feeling. I turned to leave.
And came face to face with a ghost.
I’m not proud of the sound that came out of my mouth. Probably sounded like, “Kya!”
“Ah!” she screamed, throwing her hands up. The basket she held careened through the air in a perfect arc to land on my head.
I snatched the basket off. I glanced inside. There were blueberries, wildflowers and...
Dear God I hope that isn’t poison ivy.
I let out a nervous giggle. “You scared me, Ume.”
“Oh, so sorry, Kazuma.” She bowed her head of grey several times and smiled at me with teeth tinted yellow. She started picking up what had fallen from the basket. I, uh, I held the basket for her. Tentatively.
I guess I’m Kazuma today. That’s a guy’s name, but alright. “I left some money for you in the usual place.”
She looked back and forth, her eyes settled on the far wall. She blinked owlishly “The chimney?” she asked.
“Uh, in the bowl, Ume. With the yarn.”
Her smile stretched her wrinkles wide enough I worried she’d hurt herself. “Such a sweet girl!”
She patted my head. I took it, folding my grimace into what I’m sure was a deformed smile. Small mercy that it was the hand she’d used for berries.
“You’re so good to your elders, Kazuma.”
Someone had to be. Ume didn’t have anyone to take care of her. I’ve heard rumors that she was the original owner of the house and lost her family in a tragic accident. She refused to leave even as the house crumbled around her.
Once, some thugs caught wind of my charitable nature, and decided it would be an easy score. They conned the old lady into giving up her money. It was a week before she told me about it in a shambled narrative that took some time to piece together.
I tracked them down. They payed back what they had stolen.
With considerable interest.
I can’t right every wrong. Hell, I didn’t even have enough for everyone in sector seven. But what difference I can make, I will.
“I made you something, Kazuma,” Ume said, shuffling over to her bed.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense. A good girl like you deserves a present.” She pulled something away from a large whicker basket. It was a scarf, pink squares and brown squares. I stand corrected about the colors, because the scarf actually looked really nice.
She shuffled over to me, offering it. “It’s going to get cold soon.”
A smiled touched my lips as I accepted it. “Thanks, Ume. Be sure to make one for yourse-”
Ume pulled out a matching scarf with a reverse color pattern. She wrapped in around her neck. “What were you saying?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. I mean, forget it. I mean!” I shut my trap and breathed a sigh. “I have to go, Ume. Pretty busy night. Take care of yourself.”
She waved. “You too, dear.”
I headed to the room I was renting. I’m certain the itching on my head was just in my imagination, as was the itch that soon followed on my hands. But my legs were convinced otherwise and speed up into a brisk jog.
Time to get ready for my date with the assassin.
Boy was Jiro gonna feel like a third wheel.