▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Chapter 4: The Lion Temple ライオン寺 ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

With the kabuki theater behind us, Masami and I made for the temple. Specifically, The Lion Temple, where Toshie and other assorted dangers awaited. I knew little and less about the shrine layout of this city—I couldn’t even point out the brothels from the samurai mansions. Guess I had to rely on how much fun it sounded like they were having.

*yawn*

That particular sound belonged to my companion, who dragged her feet and made altogether too much noise to be an effective midnight prowler. Staying up past her bedtime did not do well for her temperament, which was uptight to begin with.

“Curtail your pace, Sjato! Would you have me presented as begrimed, sweaty and disarrayed?” Masami halted and produced a handkerchief from her knapsack, which she used to wipe the sweat from her brow. Even this late at night the summer’s heat was stifling. “We’ve slithered past our pursuers as would a serpent; now lets take a moment to recompose ourselves.”

We were snakes all right—the rattling kind from all the noise she was making. Sure there were no lanterns on this particular street, but I knew better than to take any chances. This was the Capital and home to the Emperor himself. The two of us were a ripple in this stagnant pond, and I didn’t care to know what lurked beneath.

“Shut up. We need—” I was about to get venomous when I heard footsteps approaching. Kuso! A thousand different scenarios danced inside my head. The clouds broke for a moment, the nearly-full moon shedding its light into our next opponent.

He was obviously a guardsman, sporting a laminar cuirass—body armor with layered plates—and a helmet that draped down the sides and back of his shoulders. More important was his spear, which he leaned against as if it were a walking stick. He was an older man, with a long, grey moustache that hung from his lips to down past his jawline. As atrocious as his facial hair was, it was his expression that unsettled me the most.

A smile and friendly demeanor.

“Good evening and well met. It is a beautiful night for a summer’s walk, is it not?” The man’s eyes hazed over almost like a drunkard’s. He continued his greeting without waiting for a response. “Are you perhaps a tourist? Oh, I nearly didn’t see the charming little lady there. Who is this young mistress?”

Those hazy eyes weren’t fooling me. I’d have to answer before the kid spoke up and said something foolish. Or worse, something honest.

She’s my sister.”

While the age gap was—well—significant, it wasn’t impossible for Masami and I to be siblings. Especially not if we had a wealthy father with a taste for young wives. It was a very common preference among rich men in any era.

And in any case, it looked as if the guardsman accepted my answer. “Ha-ho! From the silk alone, I think I can wager which one is the father’s favorite!” He laughed heartily at his own joke, which even I had to admit wasn’t half-bad. The shugenja’s red silk kimono cost more ryō than my entire wardrobe—all of which I was currently wearing.

Masami chuckled awkwardly as the tension in the air seemed to subside. ‘Seemed’ being the key word here.

A blissfully cool breeze flew by, but I wasn’t able to enjoy it. I was too busy evaluating the patrolman’s stance. While he appeared to be leaning against his spear, the heels of his feet were flat solid against his sandals. His eyes were willing me to strike out at his weapon, to take advantage of the weakness he displayed openly. I was dealing with an experienced fighter.

This situation only grew more dangerous the longer we waited.

But we didn’t have to wait long before he looked off into distance and started talking again. “...Ganji is that you?” His gaze returned to meet mine, and he nodded into a curt but polite bow. “Sorry, it’s just one of my friends. He said he wasn’t going to be able to take his post. Been awfully sick lately, you see.”

What I see is a typical intimidation tactic. This veteran soldier-turned-watchman was signaling that he had boys watching every move we make. It could be a bluff, or it could be a warning. As I considered my options, the guard asked me one more question. This time with a tone that was a little less than friendly.

“So where are you headed tonight?

I was getting seriously tired of all this talking. The kid and I must have been chatting in that kabuki house for over an hour, and now this socialite wanted in on it too. I had this itch in my right wrist—the familiar twitching sensation I get when I’m in the mood to let my katana out for some fresh air. Fresh blood, too.

I gladly gave into the sensation, and had my blade unsheathed before he could lift his polearm off the ground. Since he was an armored opponent, I slashed in an upward arc beneath his exposed underarm. I only managed to make contact with the tip of my blade, but it wasn’t because I misjudged the distance. He had pushed off with his spear to create a life-saving bit of distance between us.

If old warriors were good at anything, it was staying alive. His posture no longer resembled that of a friendly, lazy watchman. His arms were raised yet far from stiff; his spear angled downward like a scorpion’s tail. This wide and powerful stance was no doubt a foot-soldier’s classic dueling stance.

The problem for him was, foot-soldiers didn’t duel very much.

I lunged with a quick step, but only with my front foot. I didn’t cover any real distance but I forced my opponent to react. Knowing his reaction time and tendencies were vital if I was going to close distance safely. He flinched back with a tilt towards his right side. A very natural tendency for any spear-wielder. He wanted to prevent me from coming around his back side.

And then suddenly, he lunged! I had thought his wounded right arm would keep him on the defensive, but I was wrong. I knew exactly what I had to do—and then a face popped into my head. Masami

The opportunity was too good to pass up. As the business-end of the veteran’s weapon made for my innards, I sidestepped around to his weaker side. My katana wanted to go for his neck, but his helmet made even a strike for this angle difficult. So instead I directed my steel towards his already-stained armpit to finish the job.

The blood spurted and the appendage dangled, followed up by an ear-piercing scream. A girl’s scream!

I looked over to see Masami’s face full of terror, with a spearpoint just inches away. Instead of finishing my enemy like I would have—should have—I was drawn back to her side in a heartbeat. Maybe if the guardsman was ten years younger, maybe if his right arm wasn’t already damaged...if things had been any different, then this battle could have ended with a spike through the kid’s head.

To the old soldier’s credit, he hadn’t gone unconscious or screamed at the unappetizing sight of exposed bone and tendons. No, he had already dropped his spear and made for a full-out sprint towards one of the main roads. I was about to dash after him and cut at his heels when a hand latched onto my arm. There wasn’t much strength behind it, but enough to stop me. I made the mistake of turning around and any chance of catching up to him was gone.

My undersized employer’s face featured sadness, fear and worst of all—disappointment. I cursed at letting my enemy get away, but rushed Masami out of there as quickly as I could. Every squad in the city would be on top of us now! The kid just screwed us over big time, so why did I feel like the villain here?

We rushed up and down a few more unlit streets before I was confident that we had made enough distance to take a short break. The temple district was still a ways off, but I had to deal with the insufferable expression on my companion first.

“I know. That spear came close—I’m not used to fighting and defending at the same time. But you’re not injured, are you?” My words came out cold as I tried holding back the irritation from earlier, when she let my enemy get away. Our enemy. Every man in the city with a weapon on his nightstand would be looking for us.

Masami couldn’t look me in the eyes, and opted to reply to her feet instead. Her voice quivered with uncertainty. “T-that’s not it. Did you have to assault him, Sjato? He seemed friendly, like he wanted to help us.”

She had an innate talent for making me feel horrible, to a degree that would make even the foulest of mother-in-laws jealous. I usually wouldn’t bother to explain myself, but I felt like I had to. I owed the kid that much at least.

“Guards don’t patrol unlit streets alone, especially not without lanterns. You only do that when you’re in a manhunt. If he couldn’t delay us long enough, he’d have tailed us until reinforcements came. That’s why he had to die.”

While this conclusion was obvious to someone who spent most of his life evading the long-yet-flexible arm of the law, it wasn’t for a sheltered scholar like Masami. She looked up to me with determination, looking almost courageous. “I’d rather die than have an innocent man killed, for my sake.”

Did I say courageous? I meant stupid

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, Sjato?”

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?

All these taxes and they can’t even bother with bronze.”

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t make an honest living. There’s a lot of downsides to this—no job security, no retirement fund, sleeping outside nine days out of ten, and so on. But at least I didn’t have to pay taxes. Of course, that didn’t stop me from having to listen to every poor bastard at a bar whine about them.

“...it is rather plain, 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.

“Sjato-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.

You are The Sword Who Cuts The Heavens—the man in my dreams. Now rise. You need never bow to me again, Sjato-san.” At the end of his words, my body stopped shaking. My nerves no longer rattled inside me. I slowly stood, with uncertain footing at first. I nearly toppled over, but I didn’t.

Satsuma was nearly a full head shorter than I, and he no longer looked as intimidating from up here. My body stopped shaking in apprehension. I didn’t know about dreams or cutting heavens, but I knew I had gotten my resolve back. Resolve enough to carry on a conversation with His Imperial Majesty, anyway.

But just as I was ready to reply, Satsuma’s attention turned towards my companion. Was she in his dreams as well? Talk about an annoying nightmare.

“Hashimoto-san. Thank you for being here. It pains me to burden a young shugenja with this responsibility, but you are among the few who are not yet...inducted into the military.” The grimace on his face was a certain sign of pain, which caused my mind to go into spirals about what this ‘responsibility’ might be.

With my wits returned to me, I finally noticed the second man who nearly melded into the darkness. I realized it wasn’t a man at all, but a woman—the midnight blue shinobi garb tightened around curves only a kunoichi could have. The mask hid all but her eyes, though my gaze lingered around her hips.

I was searching for a weapon, though I was content to look for other reasons as well.

I ended up getting her attention, but she simply crossed her arms and shot me a nasty look in return. Not very talkative, though most ninja weren’t.

Masami said something in a whisper that I didn’t catch. I did hear the Emperor’s reply, however. “Yes, that’s an interesting answer.” The divine gentleman turned and started pacing closer to the wooden statue. His hands reached out to the lion’s mane, which he traced as gently as he had with mine. “I believe the body’s pain comes from living with our spirit. Like a mouse who rattles too hard against its cage. Speaking of...”

His eyes returned to mine. “And you, Sjato-san. What would you do if you had no fear?”

I’d face down the shadows of my past.”

I’ve made a lot of enemies in my life. Those who didn’t hunt me during the day haunted me during the night as I lay sleepless. How many restless evenings were filled by their words, their cries and their screams? If I had no fear, I could face those horrors down and sleep soundly again. I could be at peace for the first time in a lifetime.

As it stands, that sort of tranquillity would have to wait until my heart stops beating.

The Emperor nodded, as if he could ever understand what I’ve gone through. But the earnest expression on his face shattered my cynicism into pieces. Could it be that he sincerely cared? “The shadows of our pasts...they do their best to dim the light of our futures, don’t they?”

Satsuma pressed his fingers against a spot where the lion was cracked, a blemish slight enough that no casual observer would notice. “I crafted this statue myself. Woodcrafting is a means of escape for me. The lion is my affinity, if the sayings hold any purchase. I had it submitted into a contest last year. Anonymously of course.”

He chuckled at the memory. “The er...nobility here don’t hold wood sculpting in high regard. But these hands...” He opened his palms, which were more calloused than any nobleman’s ought to be. Especially considering that they belonged to the Emperor himself. “...could never create something elegant and beautiful. Anger, lust, fear. I can capture those well.”

I was struggling to capture the purpose of this secret meeting, but thankfully the priestly ruler finally got to the matter at hand. “Sorry. I have gotten off track, and we don’t have the candlewax to waste on metaphors. I have had recurring visions at night. Nightmares in the pattern of six. I have reason to trust these visions, and I have kept them secret to all save the three of you.”

He smiled to his ninja, who nodded respectfully. As for me, my wrist started itching. So the kid and I went through this entire ordeal just because he was having bad dreams?! I cracked my wrist to release some of the tension I felt, as was a habit of mine. The ninja responded with another one of her glares, dissuading me from making any more sudden movements.

The elegant words turned from soft to sharp, in a powerful tone more accustomed to an authoritative figure. “They depict the spirits that will trigger events leading to the downfall of Hyuga.”

Masami gasped in a dramatic fashion—I was too dazed from what I was hearing to react. So I just continued listening to this, even if I didn’t know what this was.

“The spiritual balance in this world is more sensitive than you can imagine. Demonic forces do exist, and I have seen it corrupt men before my very eyes. I have had visions of your spirits as well. You have already broken through your cages and have the bruises to show for it. In every act of fearlessness you take your spirit grows larger.”

Emperor Satsuma paused before asking, “Have you felt this inside of you

I’m...not too connected with my spirit.”

My spirit and I were never very close. You heard stories of guidance and good conscience from ethereal animal beings all the time, but I’d always dismissed them as folktales. I certainly didn’t need anyone else—animal or otherwise—giving me a hard time. I liked to think I did a good enough job of that on my own.

The Emperor nodded as if he already knew what my answer was. “And what about you, Hashimoto-san? How has your spirit been as of late?”

The shugenja’s reluctance to reply caught me a bit off-guard. I had expected her typical enthusiasm, but this response was anything but. “The red panda and I once thrived as one, Your Majesty. Yet ever since I’ve taken to my studies at the Academy...I haven’t been able to...that is to say I...I...” Her words trailed off as a sad silence took over.

Masami was the most spiritually well-educated kid I knew. Seeing her get so disheartened made even a heartless man like me start to sympathize. But I had made it this far without imaginary pets, and so could she. A red panda though...those cat-bears were certainly cute. They made for expensive furs, too. Fit the kid perfectly.

The young ruler nodded once again, as if he had expected that answer as well. “It will return to you, trust in what I have seen. Attunement will come. Now let me tell you of the spirits in my nightmares. Your...targets.”

My wrist itched again. My ears picked up and my eyes widened. All this talk of spirits and bad dreams and hobbyist woodcarving—finally we were discussing something I could understand! His Imperial Majesty wanted me to kill people for him. Should’ve said that at the start to save us both the hassle.

First I must warn you. My visions are not always accurate...I once had a daydream of you two, beneath the shadow of a duck’s wings. You were riding towards me upon a gigantic koi fish, of all things! Ha-ha! What silliness!”

Masami and I exchanged glances. There may have been something to these dreams after all. The Emperor cleared his throat, then proclaimed the following:

㊀ “A spirit of greed. Her being taints those who are pure with her poison. I saw a nest of snakes. She must not be allowed to live.”

㊁ “The spirit of the mountain. This one will cause mudslides and earthquakes against my forces when the time comes. I saw an old mountain entangled with vines and undergrowth. It makes a beautiful painting.”

㊂ “A spirit of opportunity. He will stop at nothing for power. I saw boats and mass bloodshed. An isolated village full of desperate children. Where noble souls are endangered. I wake up feeling as if sea-salt is being rubbed into my blood.”

㊃ “A spirit of manipulation. A truly vile creature who cannot be killed by normal means. I’m afraid that it will find you before you find it.”

㊄ “A spirit of honor. Show him that pride can cripple a man from the inside. I recognize the man, a general under my command, Shatao. He is head of the barracks in the mountain pass. Tread carefully with this one.”

㊅ “And finally, a spirit still yet pure. Of warring bloodlines of two clans. If they are united they will grow too powerful...you will have to swing your sword in a different way to finish this.”

I had to hand it to the Emperor. Of all the assassination contracts I had taken on, these made the least amount of sense. For starters, some of those targets didn’t even sound human. Last I checked, my katana could only cut through flesh and bone—not magical monsters from another plane of existence!

Even that aside, I couldn’t help but frown. After a complication that occurred around five years back, I made it my motto not to have multiple employers at once. I doubted that Masami would cause any problems, but you could never be too sure in my line of work. Biting off more than you could chew was a good way to suffocate.

But I guess I could make an exception for the ruler and most powerful man in Hyuga. My less-than-pleased look prompted Emperor Satsuma to ask for questions. “I’ll provide whatever additional information I can, Sjato-san.”

Why don’t you let your dogs—I mean, your soldiers—take care of this?”

If these spirits endangered the future of the country, why not send your entire military might at them? I like to consider myself more capable than most, and Masami is certainly special—but we’re only two people. Why would the Emperor risk everything on us when he has an army of samurai who’d fall on their swords if he asked them to?

Even if those dogs were more bark than bite, a pack would tear his enemies to pieces.

“If only they could.” Satsuma sighed, staring into the candles with a frown. “My hands are tied more than you could know. Every move I make is scrutinized; I am distrusted by the other nobles at court and even my own generals. They would believe that any use of my Shinto agents serves to directly undermine them. They sicken me, to be honest.” The Emperor shook his head, frustrated at affairs that I couldn’t and didn’t care to understand.

“You must remember I’ve had a crash course in politics in the last two years. I’m not the cleverest of tongue. If news of my visions got out I would be further discredited.”

I shot Masami a glance while the Emperor petted his lion again. She was captivated in every movement the graceful ruler made, staring with open eyes and listening with an open mind. I had seen that look on girls before—and I hoped that she’d wise up before getting herself hurt. Though I suppose that even the most talented of bodyguards couldn’t protect against a broken heart.

“As you know, I took upon my father’s position only two years ago. I am titled the ‘Young Lion’ in public, but I know of the names my political opponents call me in private. Even as they try to snip my claws, you two shall be my thunder and growl. You will keep the evil at bay where I cannot.” His confidence seemed to echo against the walls of the destitute chamber, spreading to each of us like a disease. I was feeling more than a little delusional by this point.

The confidence turned into a foreboding prophecy—the sort of prediction that always came true in stories. “There are about to be great changes in this Empire. My wedding is scheduled for the end of the harvest, when the sign of the Lion is highest in the sky. From then the scales will pour over into our favor, but only for a year’s time. This mission must be fulfilled during this period...otherwise, Hyuga is doomed.”

The awkward silence that followed caused a question to spark in my mind. I was ashamed by it in two ways: that I thought of it in the first place, and that I didn’t think of it sooner.

Every fiber in my being burned to ask the pivotal question. It didn’t matter if this man ruled Hyuga, dreamed of spirits and courted with foreign princesses. Sjato doesn’t work for charity. “We’re getting paid, right? I mean...traveling expenses and such.”

Roaming all around the country to hunt these spiritual villains was, among other things, a logistical nightmare. Food and lodging, bribes for bandit gangs, guides through inhospitable terrain, decent saké to keep myself sane—the list went on and on. The Emperor may not be able to offer us samurai support, but the aid that jingles in your pockets was fine by me.

The ruler scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, and nearly knocked his headpiece off. I think I can count myself among the few able to unsettle His Imperial Majesty and keep my neck on afterwards. “I had nearly forgotten! Though as it stands, my stipend is monitored like a hawk does a mouse. I can only give you this necklace, which you may be able to sell for a sizable sum.”

He removed a sparkling, ivory necklace encrusted with jewels that he had hidden beneath the folds of his priestly kimono. I could tell in an instant that its value was immense. This caused the shinobi to break her long-held silence. “Satsu—My Imperial Majesty! That was your mother’s, and you shouldn’t hand it to this outlaw!”

The voice was familiar. The ninja’s fist shook in my direction with barely-restrained rage. I was prepared to dodge a right hook when Satsuma put an end to it with a harsh voice. “Sjato-san is no outlaw. This trinket will serve them more than it ever could around my neck. And besides...”

He walked up to Masami, who was paralyzed from the proximity she now shared with the almighty ruler. Redness lit up her cheeks as the Emperor motioned his hands behind her neck to fit the pendant around.

“...it looks far better on you than me, Masami-chan. It matches the lily in your hair.” He parted the girl’s hair back to its original form, his eyes smiling warmly down to hers. The moment they were sharing made me sick to my stomach, for a few reasons. But it was the shinobi who got a sudden cough that broke the tension.

After the necklace was securely fashioned, the Emperor turned towards me and spoke with a frightful sense of finality. And while it was directed at me, it felt as if his words were meant for someone much greater.

“I must return now, and feign ignorance as I entertain the fools of my court. Orchestrating this meeting has been no easy task, but it was something that had to be done. Know that my visions are not always accurate—the future is never written in stone. As I leave I have but one asset left to lend you.” He looked at the masked woman in shinobi garb.

“My most trusted advisor and greatest friend, Toshie.”

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