Chapter 3: The Shugenja

The trouble with sliding doors made of washi paper was that you couldn't slam them open to convey anger. I held in my frustrations and gently eased the door aside. After that meaningless waste of time downstairs, I was long overdue for some rest and relaxation. The kid was just where I thought she'd be—flat on the floor with a pile of scrolls. What a bookworm.

The kid had a name, and an expensive one at that: Masami Hashimoto. Hashimoto—they're one of the most powerful families in Hyuga. To get that wealthy meant they must have cornered a very lucrative area of the market, though for the life of me I couldn't figure out what. Masami was either oblivious or just didn't care, and concerned herself more about ancient text that looked like fancy squiggles to me.

"I had thought this place an affluent establishment, before all that ruckus from downstairs transpired. Have you any idea how difficult it is to translate these scrolls with such a clamor about?"

I waved aside the complaint and flopped on the floor. Compared to the hardened dirt my back was accustomed to sleeping upon, this mat made from rice straw was absolute bliss. I let out a breath as I enjoyed the sensation.

"Baka...there's futons in the other room, you know..." Masami muttered while squinting at a partially faded scribble. I arched my head over for a visual confirmation. It was only early in the evening, but as soon as my backside touched that cotton-padded mattress I'd be out like a candle in a windstorm.

I heard a stomach growl, and for once it wasn't my own. The kid hadn't eaten yet.

"Even scholars need to eat, kiddo."

Even the elegant sort who spent all day sitting around had to eat from time to time. Usually the problem was that they ate too damn much, and bloated up like the Oyamas. I hate to see a couple from my old stomping ground let themselves go—but some common folk couldn't just enjoy luxury, they had to engorge it.

"Not hungry." The human embodiment of a stubborn mule remarked coldly, but I knew better than to take anything she said in that tone at face value. That being said...I was hired to be her bodyguard, not her babysitter. So what I was about to do wasn't so much from the goodness of my heart as it was from personal self-interest. The self-interest of not having to deal with a whiny, agitated child all night.

I rolled my sleeves up and made my way outside. The Sleeping Duck was renowned for its majestic ponds, stocked with an array of beautiful fish for the wealthy to marvel and toss food at. They would then pay top-market prices for the privilege of being served those same fish. To me, that sounded sorta stupid.

"Think I'll take out the middleman!" My fingers cut through the cool pond water like a hawk's talons, clutching themselves around a particularly fattened koi. This carp was white with beautiful red blotches, but more importantly slow and easy to grab. Plucking that bad boy out of the water took more than a little shoulder strength—it had to be twenty pounds!

I was now dealing with a flopping, giant animal that was fighting for its life! How did I kill this thing?

As much as I hated to admit it, this wouldn't be the first time I've used my katana for this purpose. A noble samurai would scorn me, but he'd be the first asking for seconds once I grilled this carp. That summed up samurai and their bushidō code quite well, actually.

I was fairly certain I had hit the koi's brain with my initial stab, but I wedged it around inside there just to make sure. After that was done and I proceeded to bleed out its main artery with a secondary cut, right where the neck meets the bottom. Blood squirted out in a stream as I pulled the head back, the still-beating heart forcing the red liquid out in spurts.

This whole ordeal might've caused a weaker man to lose his appetite. As for me, I was coming down with a bad case of the munchies. While I had done my best to make sure no one was around, there were always prying eyes in places like these. Or even worse, ninjas drinking tea. I made sure to hurry my catch back to the room before being seen.

"B-Baka! How could you?!"

After all that hard work acquiring dinner, this was the thanks I got.

Anger erupted from Masami in a shriek, her eyes started watering as a tiny fist flew in my direction. I was so surprised at this reaction that I didn't get the chance to dodge, especially not with a giant fish in my hands. The kid could really use some work on her left hook, but I'd save my criticisms for later.

"Stop acting like a child."

What did it mean to be a child? I didn't actually know, so this was only a guess on my part. When I was young us orphans had to keep one eye open as we slept for fear that the older boys would catch us unawares. Losing the handful of coins you had was bad, but it could always be worse. I didn't need to tell you where the older girls were.

You grow up fast when you're poor.

"Look at these scales! Have you any concept of how many summers this majestic creature has had?" Masami grabbed the fish from my clutches and nearly fell over from its weight. She then proceeded to pet the thing, or at least that was what it looked like to me. It was just a fish, but the kid was starting to get me curious.

"Two or three maybe? They fatten these koi up with leftovers and serve them when the season's right. Not a bad cycle." That was my conclusion in any case. If I owned the Sleeping Duck I'd turn these pretty looking ponds into a fish farm. But then again I'm a bit more practical than most of these wealthy-types.

Masami held a hand up and whispered a short prayer that I didn't catch. She laid the fish gently atop a blank, rolled-out scroll and began writing strange symbols around it. At least she had the decency to tell me what she was up to.

"As you've deemed it before, I am about to do another of my shugenja 'tricks'. And you're wrong about the age." Masami grumbled as she diligently wrote calligraphy in an odd formation. This was only the second time I've witnessed her use her power, so I stared intently as if I could puzzle any of it out.

The writing stopped, and again the shugenja placed her palms together in prayer. The characters turned from black to a bright red, and the sound of sizzling reached my ears. The unmistakable smell of cooking fish drifted up my nose, and I let out a breath of air I didn't realize I was holding back. I was just glad that we were finally going to be able to eat the darn thing.