Chapter 4: True Mistakes

"It was nearly a century old...a hundred summers of life, ended like this." The disgust in her voice was hardly hidden, and wrought with sadness. "May its spirit swim on in the afterlife." Even a rugged ronin like me could feel bad over a fattened carp, it turned out. My eyes stared over Masami, who looked quite different in the sun's waning light.

Long black strands of hair draped down to her stomach; bangs cloaking her forehead right down to the eyebrows. Her skin was white as porcelain, though not flawless—the summer sun was relentless to those with a delicate complexion. She wasn't particularly fat nor skinny, but she had a babyish face with those chubby cheeks of hers to blame.

As for her physique, there wasn't much of one. Whereas most Hyugan women were just over five feet in height, Masami was fortunate to be over four. Add that to a non-existent bust and the kid certainly had more room to grow. The red kimono she favored wearing was darker than most of the summer fashions though styled in the ever-popular pink sakura leaves. Appearance-wise it was certainly pretty—especially with the white lily clipped behind her ear.

However...it was too flashy and too long lengthwise for my liking. If you wanted to keep a low-profile and not attract attention, you didn't wear silk that fishwives would hock their husbands for. You also didn't want to trip over the lower lining if they decided to chase on after you for it. Those women were nasty, and not just with their mouths.

"Cease your staring this instant! I'll not hear another word about my attire, either." Masami stared at me defiantly, knowing just how contentious this particular subject matter was. I had wanted her out of that outfit from day one, and I didn't mean that in a dirty way either. She gave my robes the staredown in return, and I only just now remembered what I had on.

"Wherever did you come across such an atypical haori? I do hope you realize what the meaning of 'hypocritical' means, my Apricot Ronin." She was talking about my orange kimono jacket—a gift from the Oyamas and a reminder of that bizarre affair. Now would be a good time to talk to Masami about it...but I wasn't sure if I wanted to worry her.

"There's no need to concern yourself. It looks as if the koi is ready to eat." A group of ninjas led by a foreign-looking woman...there was no benefit to worrying the kid over such things. I may be new at this bodyguarding business, but I take my job seriously. You can call it 'duty' and dress it up with honorifics, but the fact of the matter is—I'm a professional.

"Fine! Excuse me for caring!" Masami's mood went sour and I whispered a silent apology. This was far from the first time this had happened. I've kept the details about my past hidden from my traveling companion, and that didn't mesh well with her inquisitive mind. But my task here wasn't to be her friend, but her protector. I often have to remind myself of that.

The smell of good food never lets a foul mood linger long, and Masami's fit seemed to subside. "Let's carry on with dinner then, I believe I will retire early tonight."

It was a plan of action I intended to follow, though it turned out a blissful night's sleep was too much to ask.