Chapter 11: The Lion's Hunt

The temple district was blissfully empty. Monks tended to keep honest hours, and even the most devout of Shinto worshippers had to sleep sometime. I wouldn't admit it, but without Masami here to read the signs I never would've found the place. The Lion Temple was ornate from the outside, but not well-maintained and smaller than I expected. It was almost tucked away into its own little corner.

I voiced my thoughts aloud. "Seems a bit shabby compared to the shrines I'm used to seeing."

The shugenja's eyes lit up just as they always did before she explained something. I daresay she enjoyed lecturing me. "Its dilapidation is a sign of its age—this temple could not service a vast crowd like those in most cities. The interior will most assuredly be a holdover from the olden days. Expect a large central shrine with an upstairs loft, granting a clear view of the chamber."

I didn't care much for the olden days, but knowing the layout of the building beforehand might save our lives. Especially if this was a shinobi set up.

Masami continued, with even more enthusiasm. "It is said that in more barbaric times, these sanctuaries served as defensible locations with archers lined upstairs. That was back when Hyuga was little more than a tribe of impoverished fisherman." She nodded to herself before shifting topics. "The sign of the lion occurs late in the fall season, and thus isn't even visible in tonight's sky. Very few would make offerings now, and no ceremonies ought to be scheduled for months yet."

In other words, this was a meeting someone wanted to keep secret. After grasping my katana and my resolve, I slid open the entrance and entered the lion's den.

There were six candles lit in front of the shrine, doing their best to light up the stunted chamber. Since I expected a ninja to be in every shadow, I wished they did a better job. The floor was wooden but waxed, and might have even shined if it wasn't layered in dust. There were no pews or seats of course, but a handful of tatami mats that looked as comfortable as an anvil's face.

The shrine was sparsely decorated aside from a large wooden sculpture of a lion that rested just inside the candlelight's range. The shadows emphasized every cut and curve of the majestic beast, which gave off a proud yet uncertain expression. It looked almost fearful, but of what? I wasn't an art critic so I wasn't sure what to make of it. It didn't surprise me that my companion, however, was.

"This sculpture is exceedingly strange. The Capital shrines do most of their chiselling in brass, gold, jade or ivory. Wood is regarded as inferior and not...befitting the Emperor's taste. What do you think, Akio?"

I was more concerned about the darkness on the upper level, where anyone or anything could hide themselves in. At least we hadn't been struck down by shuriken, poisoned darts, or arrows yet. The kid still wanted an answer. How did I feel about the stupid lion?

"I couldn't care less about the stupid lion."

Why Masami wanted my opinion on the artistic merit of the lion statue was beyond me. That tree log wasn't the only thing that would be carved up into pieces if those guardsman caught us. Think limbless torsos and lots of red paint. I grasped my katana at my side to make sure it was still there, and nearly jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps.

"...it is a rather silly lion, isn't it?"

The wooden stairs creaked at every step. Two figures emerged from upstairs—men, but only one of their footsteps made sound. The one who spoke wore large, black silk robes in a fashion I had never seen before. Atop his head sat a priestly-looking hat with a flat top and a tassel that flowed behind him as he approached. It wasn't until I saw the scepter in his hands that I started to piece together his identity.

And I started to lose a piece of my sanity.

"I'm glad you arrived on such short notice." His tired yet compassionate voice paired with a warm smile. He was somewhere in his twenties, though his deep brown eyes held a burden of a man far older. The aura of nobility, the magnetism he emitted was unmistakable. I knew in my gut who he was before he said it. My knees buckled, my hands pressed flat against the wooden floor beneath me. My head bowed low enough that my eyelashes nearly scraped the dust.

"I am Emperor Satsuma. You may be at ease."

Even with the Emperor's own reassurance, I couldn't keep my body from freezing up. My heart raced like I was in a swordfight I was sure to lose. His Imperial Majesty stood before me, the divine being inspired by the gods—kami—to rule over Hyuga. I felt the weight of all my sins on my shoulders, and I just couldn't raise them.

I glanced over at Masami who—unlike me—didn't have her head anchored to the floor. Instead, the kid had a glowing smile on her face that made me feel even more pathetic. "I'm supposed to be the tough one here, dammit." I'd been too busy cursing at myself to notice a hand until it was placed on my head. A jolt not unlike lightning ran through me.

The single most important, powerful man in Hyuga ran his divine fingers through my hair. And I hadn't washed it in weeks.

"Akio-san, you are from Genfu, are you not?" His question was full of an almost childish curiosity, and even my own name sounds like a stranger's from his graceful voice. My own voice was caught up in my throat. I could only make the slightest of nods.

"That is where the old capital was, where my grandfather and his fathers before him reigned. There was a despicable custom there, centuries old, in which civilians who gazed upon the Emperor had their eyes removed. That fear remains in so many there to this day."

Was this a subconscious fear, instilled even in a street urchin? Could a hundred-year old ritual make my arms shake and my knees quiver? I was a master swordsman and ruthless assassin, yet now felt like a child. But while I was humbled, a calmness enveloped me. A moment of tranquillity no amount of saké could match.

I looked up into his eyes.