《WAKIAGARU》Chapter Seven—The Feather and the Sword
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The White Feather
Around the next bend they should be able to see light, as the sewer drain would come to an end outside of the city walls. When Haku turned the corner she found the two ninja ahead of her standing still, their stances indicating that they were ready for a fight.
The White Feather had already drawn her katana as the backlit forms of several enemy ninja guarding the exit came into view.
She made a sound of exasperation. “Tch!”
Haku turned, searching for a different exit. Her ninja followed as they made their way back into the darkened corridors. Again they came up short as the dark forms of enemy ninja became visible ahead.
Shuriken caromed away from her as she deflected them with her blade. Her ninja returned in kind, their shuriken disappearing into the darkness. Some hit their targets as others struck the stone walls with a metallic clattering.
Now there was only one path open to them, to their left. Haku lead the way, her five ninja tailing her as she swooped down the corridor, her blade upraised, ready to defend against incoming projectiles.
Feet pattering furiously against the stones, they came to an open quarter, a junction that split off in every direction. But she and her stealth warriors quickly found themselves surrounded.
Three of them came in for the attack, her ninja drawing their wakizashi blades. Haku’s attackers wasted no time, lunging for a direct strike!
Her blade met her attacker’s as she side-stepped, countering with a lethal slash to the enemy ninja’s neck. He went down in a spray of blood as three more from the shadows came at her.
Had they truly been trying to kill her, this attack would be different. She knew then that they were flushing her out like hunters.
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She glanced back to find one of her ninja already down in a pool of blood. She deflected three more shuriken as an attacker came in at her right. She jumped back, narrowly missing the sharp edge of his wakizashi blade, but because of her arcane knowledge in the secret martial arts, she glided far away from him.
There was one escape. Above her. A ladder that had long been broken. It didn’t reach down far enough for the ninja to utilize. She glanced up at the light coming down from the street above.
Abandoning her warriors, she jumped, gliding for the last rung. She clasped it with a single hand, her blade still in her other as more shuriken came at her.
She deflected them, her enemies hissing in frustration.
She jerked her body up, climbing with one hand, ready to deflect more projectiles. None came. Her enemies were occupied with her remaining four ninja as she used her shoulder to push open the perforated sewer cap.
She found herself in an empty street. If she ran now, she could make it past the wall, get out with the message Ujio had given her, intended to warn Emperor Kurosawa’s—
“You’ve done well getting this far.”
She turned.
“But this is as far as you go White Feather.”
He hadn’t been there before…
Before her stood a man of medium height, utterly at east, his left hand resting over the smooth sheath of his katana, his thumb caressing the material there. He had a katana and a wakizashi, the daishō pairing. The mark of a swordsman.
What was most surprising about this warrior was that he almost looked like a vagrant. His kimono was black, but she could see that it had been used hard, and not recently. Underneath was the armor of a samurai, yet the armor was not in full set, having only the chest and lower leggings that guarded the wearer’s shins.
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“Who are you?” she asked, unable to make out his features for the white mask that he wore.
“I’m not surprised that you don’t recognize me,” he said. “I care little for fame, but you will have heard of me as the Sword of a Thousand Suns.”
Her eyes widened in recognition of the title just as he unsheathed his katana. The blade was still blood-stained from its recent use. “You mean the Sword of a Thousand Bloody Red Suns!” she corrected, feeling an instant sense of revulsion.
And there was something else there. Fear.
“Tch!”
“Perhaps if your blade didn’t taste the blood of others so frequently, you would not have gained such a moniker.”
“What others think of me is of no consequence, White Feather.”
“You know me?”
“Of course, I know,” he said hotly. “You’re the best blade in Mikuma, a sorceress, some call you, for your ability to fly on the wind. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to judge others.”
“The difference between you and I,” Haku said, “is that I fly on the wind, while you find yourself in a sword dual every other fortnight.”
The masked swordsman sniffed. “Hardly.”
“It doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed, hardening her resolve. She would have to fight this warrior to get out of the city. “You fall here, today.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“Enough talk!”
He laughed and she couldn’t help but feel profoundly insulted.
“Are you offended?”
“I am accustomed…” she said, “…to slightly more cordiality—even from my enemies.”
He shrugged. “Do I look like a man concerned with cordiality?”
“I said enough. Let us cross blades, swordsman.”
“It will be my pleasure to be the man who defeats the White Feather.”
She wanted to fight, but now she couldn’t help but ask, “Is that why you fight me? For fame? I thought you didn’t care for such things.”
“Honor,” he said, “not fame. I fight for honor.”
“Honor,” she sniffed. “There is little honor without recognition of said honor.” She smirked having bested them in their verbal dual.
The Sword of a Thousand Suns said nothing.
When he moved, she was hardly unready, but the force of his attack caught her off guard.
Their blades met. Barely. A loud clash of their steel resounded through the alley. The force of his blow sent her back, but through the powers of her martial arts, she glided as if falling into water.
Her white boots came down softly over the paving stones, her heart still beating fast from her surprise and shock.
Had I been a hair’s breadth slower, I’d be in two pieces now, she thought, unable not to admire the sheer speed and force of this warrior’s attack.
“Do you understand now, White Feather?”
Indeed, she did, though she said nothing as she steeled herself for their dual.
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