Chapter XI—An Oni’s Hate and Hope

As they left the inn, worry in their hearts, Hans said, “I have no doubt that we are being watched, Rōkura-san.”

The very idea angered Rōkura. “Even now?”

“Just so. Finish your breakfast.”

“I can’t eat right now.”

“You will need your strength.”

“Ugh!”

“Go on, Oni-san. For me?”

“Fine,” Rōkura said grudgingly.

Had they not been the hostages of Shōzu, and had the others not been in danger, perhaps Rōkura would have seen Chōdaira in a different light. Even now the inn common room was full of guests, mostly local people, though there were a few foreigners.

Everyone minded their own business, chatted quietly or laughed occasionally. It was not an unhappy environment. Rōkura practically scowled since they had arrived left the castle for the first time in the middle of the day yesterday, and now she was wondering if, should she keep it up, her face would remain permanently altered.

She noticed snakefly in her morning porridge. With my luck, probably. With a heavy sigh she pushed her bowl away and said that she was done.

“Very well,” Hans said, glancing about. He went to the innkeeper and paid for their breakfast. “At least we still have access to coin in this city.”

“Nothing looks bright to me right now, Hans.”

“You know…” he mused.

“No,” she said. “Do not even think it, Hans.”

Laughing nervously, he shrugged, putting his palms up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” she growled.

“Never, Oni-san.” All right—I was thinking it. Hans smiled.

Rōkura scowled. Hans, if you didn’t have those beautiful blue eyes and those childish looks, I would smack your face.

He turned and regarded the wire and the lanterns being hung up by a girl about Rōkura’s age while another member of the innkeeper’s family set up a sword in the window.

As the innkeeper came to their table to wipe it down, Hans asked, “Is something happening here? It seems somewhat festive.”

“Hai,” he said with a friendly nod. He was thin, wiry and bald, and like him, his son and daughter were similarly built. “It is the Summer Harvest. In Chōdaira we call it Natsu no Shūkaku.”

“Ah,” Hans said affably like a foreigner on vacation. “It is very interesting.”

The innkeeper nodded. “Soon,” he said pointing, “you will see.”

“And the sword?”

The bald man laughed. “You will see.”

“All right,” Hans said with a smile. “Keep me in suspense.”

The innkeeper seemed to like that and Rōkura rolled her eyes as he muttered something else to Hans with a big smile on his face.

She sighed heavily.

“Now you’re starting to sound like me, Oni-san.”

“Hmph.”

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go. I am certain we will be ‘found’ before long. Maybe we can scout this city out—get a lay of this land between then and now.”

She nodded. “Mm.”

When they stepped out of the side door, the sun hit Rōkura and the warmth felt good. Oddly, the air was quite cool.

They entered an alley with overhanging roofs. Birds nested in the eaves and their droppings lined the street near the drains. There were only a few people back here, mostly old ladies and small children, but upon seeing a hot-pink-skinned woman with horns, quickly retreated indoors.

Hans ignored them, looking only with his sly and watchful eyes. This is no way to be unobtrusive. He then led Rōkura to the left, leading to one of the side streets. He wanted to keep out of sight of the main roads as much as possible.

If they were being followed, maybe they could make things just a little more difficult for their watchers. The thought put a smirk on his youthful face. I always did love twisting people’s patience into a knot.

Rōkura realized some men had come around the corner. When she noticed they had weapons, her mouth dropped as she glanced about, her incredulity, had it been a numbered stat, would have been quite high. “Really?! No way.”

“Hmm?” Hans turned and saw four men standing in the alley. His eyes didn’t even widen a fraction with surprise. There was no surprise. He felt them coming from two streets down. The street fighters wore sackcloth pants and sandals with bandanas around their foreheads colored in red and black. They had sticks and knives. “Oh dear.” He touched his classes. “I see…”

Just as the words came out of his mouth, three more of the bandits slipped off the roof above, used the wall in the narrow alley to break the speed of their descent to the paving stones. As they moved, their feet slapped and smacked the hard surfaces. They landed in succinct fashion, arrogant grins on their faces. Some of them looked quite strong.

“’No way’” Hans drawled, “are not words you should keep familiarity with, Oni-san.” He nearly laughed, but held his amusement in check.

She sighed, feeling annoyed and stupid. This is embarrassing. “Bad luck?”

The blue-eyed supporter shrugged. “It is a rather random encounter, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded. “Mm.” Why couldn’t they at least be more impressive? She didn’t know why, but Rōkura felt stupid. Quietly she added, “I’ll handle it, then.”

Unable to keep from smiling, Hans said, “All right. I’ll relax and watch.”

“Hey!” Rōkura called, feeling annoyed and frustrated. “Turn around and go back to whatever rat-infested hole you crawled out of!”

The lead man came forward two paces and pointed an aggressive finger. “The Sentōki Fists won’t be told what to do from some painted gaijin whore from the Capital!” He wore a tunic with the arms ripped off, a black sash synched tightly around his waist.

“What did you just call me?” she spat through her teeth.

“Ha-ha! You heard, little girl.”

“Easy, Oni-san,” said Hans with a smirk. “No need to kill them all.”

“Give up,” another of the fighters said. His trousers were wrapped with cloth strips to support his limbs and hands, much like Rōkura’s own feet. “No use dying for a bit of coin.”

“That’s right,” their leader said with a nod of his chin.

Rōkura turned her shoulders and put up her hands.

“Ha!” the leader scoffed as the loose strands of his air fell about his shoulders. “Not going to use your sword?”

“I won’t need my sword.”

“Something tells me Kirai wouldn’t be pleased with this gristle.”

Rōkura didn’t really know why Hans spoke of her sword that way, but she intended to ask him later.

“Hmph,” the lead thug sniffed. “All right, I can be sporting.” He tossed his club. “No weapons!” he called, and his men dumped their clubs and sheathed their knives. “I’m still going to knock those stupid fake horns off your head!”

He lunged forward.

A an arrogant little smirk found its way to Rōkura’s lips, her worries for the others completely forgotten in this moment.

The thug came into her space and took a swing at her.

She side stepped the blow and smacked his arm away, then put a flurry of fists into the side of his torso.

With a grunt and a wince, he stumbled back, surprised at the speed and the sudden ferocity of her punches. He sniffed, thumbing his nose as he danced on his feet.

Hans backed up as the others closed in around him. He put up a hand. “Now way, boys, and you’ll all get a turn.”

They laughed like gravel and broken glass.

When their leader came forward again with a faint, Rōkura fell for it—and even still, she managed to block the shin that came up toward her head, shrugging it off with an arc of her arm.

Then with her superior power to this low level fool, she pushed her opened hand against his chest and forced him down to the cobblestones with a loud grunt.

One tried to come up behind her, but she saw that coming from a league off and grabbed his arm from over her shoulder and flipped him over her shoulder atop his boss. They both cried out, but the boss screamed like he was retching out his guts, his skin reddening and the veins in his neck popping.

With two of them down, their leader one of them, they went into a wild frenzy. Hans dodged their blows, remaining out of the fight while Rōkura continued dealing with them one by one.

The man she had flipped over her shoulder squirmed, so he lifted her leg and put her heel into his stomach.

“Gah!”

Two of the street fighters rushed her, but the oni turned her shoulders and dancing between then. Then she lashed out with her hands, taking both of their heads and slamming them together—the sound of the impact one that would normally make her wince.

They fell in a flail of limbs and groans.

Without waiting for the last two to react to her, she grabbed one of the by the neck and tossed him atop the heap she was building. They gasped and wheezed. Despite the ease by which she took these men down, and the silly-looking nature of it all as she, being much smaller in stature, lifting and tossing them about, Rōkura was fired with rush of energy and excitement.

She wasn’t aware, but Hans spotted the delighted grin on her face, proud that she was enjoying the fight—albeit, only being light horseplay by her higher level standards.

The last two looked on at their allies.

She beckoned them forward. “Come.”

They turned and ran, attempting to get passed Hans. “Nope,” he said, putting out his foot. Rōkura lurched forward and took the man by both his ankles, sun on her heels as the man scream. “UhhhaaaaAAAAHHHH!!!”

She let go and he fell into a hip of limbs and grunts.

The final man looked at her with wide eyes and shrieked. He ran at the wall, jumped and used it to propel himself high into the air.

She wasn’t going to let him get away.

The oni jumped, the force by which she lifted herself off the street sent her into a spin as she grabbed him by the jaw. If he wanted to go to the roof—he could go to the roof!

With her powerful strength, she thrust him away like a piece of refuse and he flailed toward the tiles, landing heavily and cracking many of them. They broke and fell to the street as she landed softly into a crouch.

The man she had tossed onto the roof groaned, moving to crawl up, but his speed was slow and languid and revealing of moderate injuries.

Hans clapped, laughing amidst the groaning and whining men in the pile while Rōkura dusted off her hands.

“Where’s the last one?”

“Eh—oh? I think he ran—“

His club smacked Rōkura on the side of the head hard enough to make her hair tussle as it bounced off and clattered loudly on the stones.

If bolts of magical energy could erupt from her eyes, they would have been at that moment, as she growled through her teeth like a war dog. Rōkura turned her head to the last of the street fighters and his eyes widened in horror.

“Sir,” said Hans in a demeanor of complete calm and perfect civility. “If you have a coin’s worth of wisdom, it should be telling you to run.”

The thug eyed Hans.

The little golden-haired tilted his head.

The street fighter’s eyes slid back to Rōkura like dying fish on hot rocks.

Then he shrieked and ran.

“Good man,” said Hans with a nod. Then he sighed contentedly. “A survivor to tell the tale, dear Oni-san?”

She wiped her her palm under her eyes. “That hurt!”

“Oh, now you’re just fine,” he said in a placating manner.

“Hmph!” she sniffed.

“Ohhhh,” moaned their boss underneath the others. “Kamiiii-sam-a…” he fell unconscious and Rōkura gave him a final kick in the rips that made his limp arms convulse.

“Well,” said Hans. “We best be off to—“

“To where?” asked a voice.

Hans and Rōkura both whirled to meet that voice. They found Suko and ten samurai, watching as the street fighters squirmed and moaned in their pathetic attempts to get away as quickly as they could.

She had seen most of their fight when first entering the alley not just a few moments ago, and she was impressed. Suko could not have fought these men off on her own, which spoke to the level of this oni warrior and her companion, who had expertly avoided the blows of the now-wounded street thugs.

“You fall into a lot of bad luck.”

Hans raised an eyebrow. “You could say that,” he said, his tone bored.

Suko nodded.

She had kept tabs on them herself. The oni and her golden-haired companion had left the castle and taken up in an inn called “Zarigani-sama!”

Now she was here to tell they that they were summoned. She glanced about at the groaning and moaning men limping and crawling away. One of them was still unconscious.

“Daimyo Shōzu summons you.” She hated saying these words.

“I could kill you where you stand,” Rōkura said. Just seeing this woman here annoyed her, and being ordered by that killer?

Suko took a step back, swallowed. It was no question that she and her few samurai would be at the mercy of this much higher level woman. But we have the hostages…

Rōkura made fists.

“Easy,” Hans said. “Easy.”

Rōkura stepped forward and snarled.

“No!” Hans persisted as he put a hand on Rōkura’s shoulder. “Do not kill the messenger, Rōkura.”

The scout could see that the oni wanted nothing more than to kill her here in this street. Hans looked Suko in the eyes, and she blinked, feeling…

“We will wait with the carriage.” Fortunately Suko wouldn’t be murdered by this horned girl, because her companion was far less aggressive it seemed. Even still, her heart hammered in her chest.

Suko was almost been too afraid to say the words, but she managed to get them out of her throat. “I will take you back to Awara Castle when you are ready to leave.”

As she turned, leaving them in the alley, Hans muttered, “Almost deferential, wouldn’t you say?”

Rōkura looked at him, not understanding what he was getting at. Gods—she hated this—all of it.

The oni girl called Rōkura hadn’t even reached for her sword. She wanted to kill Suko with her bare hands—with her claws. A gruesome way to die. But the gods know I deserve to be killed for this.

When Suko and her samurai reached the carriage, one of the men stopped and looked at her, asked if she was all right. “Daijobu desuka, Suko-san?”

Not really. “Hai!” she said with a curt nod, her cheeks heating.

The ascent was quiet, awkward and full of tension between herself and the two hostages. The gods know I would deserve it if she did decide to kill me. Yōkai take me—what am I even doing here? I’m a scout for the army, not a lapdog of Shōzu-sama!

Rōkura eyed the small woman askance, a snarl in her mouth and her fingers itching to rear into her. She could easily grab the woman by the shoulders and throw her back—watch her fall down the steep incline until she cracked every bone in her body.

That would be the safe way to murder her, but Rōkura really wanted to rip her throat out, watch her blood spill out over the stone steps, like she had been forced to watch Banjo bleed out.

Keeping an eye on both women, and making sure he stood between them both, Hans shifted his watchful gaze between them. The woman called Suko, would not attack Rōkura, but he half expected Rōkura to attempt something.

But she won’t… not when there’s the lives of the hostages to think about. He sighed quietly as they ascended the abominably long ascent to the face of the castle. It loomed over them, like a villain, watchful and smug, like its ruler Shōzu. Damn him.

And to think, this was all Hans fault. The previous day he had decided that Rōkura’s Persistent Bad Luck had probably been at play, and yet she had been discovered for the very reason that he had wanted force her into her Rage state—which he had done.

No, it wasn’t Persistent Bad Luck. Just malice and deceit. It was hard to grasp, but somewhat of a pall of guild had been cast over him, and he didn’t like this feeling. I’m not supposed to feel this way. Ever the loyal follower of Ogai-sama. I have stolen, lied, killed—never have I felt this guilt.

She caught Hans looking at her, his sly gaze lingering. Rōkura wanted to know why. Does he actually think I will attack her? The gods know I want to!

But the oni was distracted as the castle stretched before them. With a shiver crawling up her back, she swallowed, anticipating their second meeting with Shōzu, the daimyo who had killed Banjo.

Rōkura swore that she would be the one to cut him in half, to writhe and laugh in his blood. Like before, a large group of samurai had been waiting for them—this time lined up in a long tow outside of the castle.

Hans narrowed his eyes, inspecting these samurai. They were higher level warriors, maybe even a few of them had magic spells. He could tell by their persistent auras, but also because of their armor.

Uniformity was not something often seen of samurai, at least not what he had seen of this world so far, so why now? No, this was a well-manicured and well trained army of warriors.

Shōzu’s personal guard then, and it looks like he isn’t taking any chances.

As Rōkura grudgingly followed Suko into the dark chambers of the castle, the samurai folding in behind them, creating a wall of flesh and swords to keep them from escaping, or was it to prevent her and Hans from attacking Shōzu?

Surprised with herself, Rōkura grinned maliciously. In my Rage state, I would be at the top of their mountain of corpses drinking their blood with a smile on my face.

She blinked.

Gods, where are these thoughts coming from?

Today, Daimyo Shōzu was wearing his silken black tunic with white tabi sucks, sandals and the finest silk under tunic of pure white. He watched as his hostages approached.

Like before, his personal army of samurai followed behind and from above on both flanks. If fighting broke out, Tomokai beside him would lend his army magical buffs and hurl destructive magic at the two fighters.

Meanwhile, all of the other hostages would be promptly butchered. They cannot escape my trap.

The woman called Suko bowed, her eyes full of nervous energy. “Daimyo Shōzu-sama. I have brought—“

“Enough!” he said, waving a dismissive hand as impatience threatened his calm exterior. If Shōzu hated anything, it was wasted time, formalities where there needed to be none—these were hostages after all—and fools who failed to accomplish the commands he set out for them.

Bowing quickly as she stepped aside, Shōzu spoke again. “There is no need for any formalities when meeting me now. Should I summon you again, we will dispense with them completely.”

He stood from his throne quickly, almost lurching.

Then, picking up his robes so that he didn’t trip over them, he descended the dais slowly, his eyes regarding of Hans and Rōkura—especially Rōkura. There was desire there.

Hans could see it. Hells, Rōkura can see this barely disguised lecher.

“Then since we are dispensing with formalities,” Hans said, “I would ask what you want of us at the outset… Lord Shōzu.”

“Indeed.” There was a long pause and Hans glanced about. What had been an empty throne chamber on the first day of their meeting, was now, to Hans surprise, not entire empty of others apart from the samurai.

There was a woman at the end of the chamber. She sat in one of the illustrious black-lacquered cherry wood chairs near the wall where some paintings and valuable pottery sat atop a small table.

With her were two other women and a men, perhaps her servant and handmaiden? In the opposite corner was a man in shimmering blue robes, his inner robes black, and a katana at his side.

A more elite warrior no doubt, because Hans sensed nothing of his aura—which meant he was hiding it. Very good of you.

“What I want…” Shōzu said as he came down the dais next to Rōkura.

Swallowing, she flinched back slightly when the daimyo reached out to touch her cheek with a caress. She had the sudden urge to bit his finger off.

Shōzu smiled, then looked up quickly. “I want you to go to the Tsurugo district of the city.”

Hans waited. “And then?”

Shōzu smiled. “And then cause as much chaos as possible.”

Rōkura frowned. What?!

Blinking, Hans said, “Come again?”

“Hmph!” Shōzu sniffed derisively. “Murder. Death. Mayhem. Burn the city down.” Then he screamed. “I don’t care how you do it!”

Hans could only thing that this daimyo was mad. What was his game?

“And you…” Shōzu said, turning to Rōkura. He took her by the chin with one hand and caressed her silky black hair with the other while eying her her horns like they were made of pure gold, encrusted with precious gems. “You… You are perfect.”

She couldn’t stand him touching her, and jerked her chin away, a hot fury burning her cheeks while she looked at him with murder in her eyes. Surprised, he seemed to like it, and Rōkura glanced away.

Shōzu laughed, turned as he whipped up his robed with his hand and stalked back to his throne.

“Lord Daimyo…” said Hans, confused. “You want us to go to the—to the Tsurugo district and… cause chaos?”

“That is what I said, is it not?” he turned and in a quiet tone said to his man, “I want wine.”

The man bowed and motioned to someone on the edge of the throne chamber. The footsteps of the servant who came up with the silver platter and wine echoed through the hall as Hans waited for a moment.

Shōzu drank deeply and set the cup down, the base of it clattering against the shaking of the servant. Hans glanced about with astonishment. These people are afraid out of their wits!

Then Shōzu said, “You will wait until the summer harvest festival, two days hence. From that day, you will perform your most destructive miracles for me.”

Rōkura felt dizzy. How could this be happening? Banjo died for this? Because this madman wanted to destroy his own city? She cut a glance toward Hans, waiting to see what he would say.

“And should we accomplish your goal, you will release the others?” He saw Rōkura looking at him and returned her gesture. If it was up to Hans, he would simply move on with his journey.

What he was doing now, he did for her.

Perhaps it is the only way to…

“If you should fulfill all my needs in that regard,” said Shōzu, “then yes. I will release them. But I want her to do it.” He pointed his finger like a dagger. “The horns and the red skin will be a nice touch. Something that will cause a lot of rumor to abound. Wine!”

Rōkura narrowed her eyes. Red-pink skin, you scaly wine bag!

The servant went back up the steps and proffered the trey. Shōzu drank deeply and put the glass down. “Can you affect this outcome to my satisfaction, Oni?”

“My name… is not ‘oni.’”

He looked down at her from his throne, a derisive smile on his lips. “If you want to see your friends again, you will be called whatever I decide you will be called.” He bore into her head with his angry eyes. “And you will surprise me in every sense of the word. You will serve my ends as if you did them of your own will, because you love and worship me.” He got up. “You will ascend to even greater heights that I imagine you will do for me, Oni!”

She sucked in a quick breath and made fists so tight, she started bleeding. Rōkura ground her teeth, and realized she was shaking with fury.

Someone took hold of her upper arm and she whipped her head toward that hand, ready to snap the wrist, but she realized it was Hans looking up at her though his spectacles with. “Don’t,” he said softly. Then a smile flickered onto his features. “We know what we will do, Rōkura.”

There was a pause as she looked into his eyes. She was on the edge of flinging his hand off her and lunging up those steps so could rip into him. The very thought of his screams echoing through the chamber while his blood squirted through the air filled her with immense satisfaction that surprised even herself.

Hans blinked. “Don’t we know?” he persisted.

She knew she couldn’t kill him. That would doom the others. Gods—I hate this! Ogai-sama, why can’t you come down and murder this whoreson?!

Hans held her stare, and finally Rōkura was able to calm herself, though she suspected the only reason was due to the promise in his words—the words he had told her yesterday.

Good, because we’re going to kill them all, Oni-san.

“All right,” she said with a nod. “I can do it.” She looked up at Shōzu.

He clapped his hands and laughed. “Good. Now get out of my sight. And do not be seen in my district again without your head covered. Tomokai—provide a cloak for our oni killer.”

Rōkura glanced back at him, but Hans pulled her away as Suko came to them. Tomokai moved off quickly in search of the aforementioned cloak.

As they walked through the parting body of samurai who looked down at them with intense eyes and mouths full of yōkai teeth, their footsteps echoed through the quiet chamber.

Something struck Hans. It was something Shōzu had said. For now he put it from his mind as he watched over Rōkura to make sure she didn’t do something stupid that would damage their plans.

When they came back out into the fresh air, Rōkura heard the thunder rumble over the approaching black clouds on the horizon in the direction of the sea.

“Another storm,” said Hans.

“There is always another storm,” said Suko. She looked at them, and Hans thought not unsympathetically. “Chōdaira has always been a place of storms,” she said.

Narrowing his eyes, Hans thought she made reference to something else. Turmoil, perhaps. Is it that you are surprised at the actions of your daimyo?

Hans’ thoughts mirrored those of Suko’s almost perfectly. The woman did not think she would ever be involved in such treacherous dealings. And yet… she had no idea how to deal with it.

I must speak with someone I trust…

The man called Tomokai met them at the door and handed off a cloak to Suko, then turned and disappeared into the cavernous recesses of the castle. The samurai began to file out, to make sure they were seen off the castle grounds.

“Here,” Suko said. “Best not to be seen.”

“Except!” Hans said cheerily, “while we destroy… what was the name of that district again?” Let’s see what kind of a reaction I can get out of you, woman.

“Tsurugo,” said Suko and her eyes inadvertently flicked down to the ground. “It is to the North of here,” she said, pointing, unable to look in that direction. What they were doing was… evil.

“Ah,” Hans said with a big smile. “That is right. The Tsurugo district!”

Rōkura narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disbelieve as she listened to Hans speak as of Suko were dumb. What was he up to? Taking the cloak from the woman, she yanked it from her hands.

“Nice cloth,” Hans said.

Rōkura didn’t care. She put it on and it covered her body well with its voluminous design. She would have to pull up the hem just to walk, and the wide cuffs hung to below her wrists, hiding her hands completely.

“We can hide a whole barracks in there,” Hans commented.

Why is he making stupid jokes?

Suko swallowed, her conscience pricking her at every turn. Gods—why do I have to be the one to do this? It is dishonorable.

“And…” Hans said, stretching out the word. “We better be off, then.”

“Hai,” Suko said with a nod, both relieved to be rid of them, while at the same time dreading what came next—what they had to do, or suffer the fate threatened by Shōzu.

Feeling furious and her anger smoldering like hot magma under the surface, Rōkura thought she might just murder this woman. Why not? Would Shōzu even notice if one of his low-level soldiers was killed?

Reaching the top step of the steep incline to the carriages, an impulse came over Rōkura to do what her thoughts demanded of her.

With a lurch, she pushed out with her hand, but before her palm could hit Suko in the back, her wrist was caught by—

Hans?!

With his hand stretched out flatly, providing a shield against Rōkura’s sudden attempt to kill Suko, he looked at her intently as the woman gasped and stepped forward.

Suko whirled, her hand on her sword.

Rōkura said nothing.

Hans laughed dully and shrugged. “You are our friend,” said Hans. “She only wished to pat your back, Suko-san.”

“Indeed?” the woman asked, her surprise and sudden alarm clear in her features. She swallowed as her heart beat faster. She just tried to kill me.

“Isn’t that right, Oni-san?” asked Hans.

“Of course,” Rōkura said through her teeth, not trying to hide anything.

“Then,” said Suko, circumnavigating around Hans and up to their flank, “you won’t mind if I stay behind you.”

“Not at all,” said Hans with a smile, though he snuck a sharp look at Rōkura, surprised that the fool girl would try to kill Suko—and right there at the castle steps!

When they stepped into the carriage, Suko hesitated.

“What, not coming with us, Suko-san?” asked Rōkura, her intonation laden with threat. If Hans wouldn’t let her kill the woman, she would scare her as best she could, make her look over her shoulder and wonder.

“I will remain here,” Suko said.

“That is quite well,” said Hans. “Surely you do not wish to come with for the lovely task that awaits.”

“No,” said “Suko. I have other duties. You would be surprised how many new inmates arrive at the city prisons during the summer time when ships pass by Chōdaira.”

That’s it! Hans smiled. “Indeed. Please, Suko-san, fare you well.”

“Arigatou.”

Hans nodded and Suko almost closed the carriage door, but hesitated. “When the shōgun arrived in two days, this city will be far safer than it is now. Until then, I have escaped prisoners to catch.”

Before Hans could say a word, she closed the carriage door and thumped a hand over the side, indicating to the driver that they were ready to go.

Inside the carriage, Hans cast a stern glance at the petulant oni. “Behave yourself,” he said, though he managed not to bite the words off through his teeth.

“How can you be so cheery, Hans?!”

“Silence,” he said.

Rōkura blinked, surprised at his sudden vehemence.

“Let me speak,” he said. He waited a moment. “Suko…”

Crossing her arms, Rōkura said, “What of her?”

“Tch!” the golden-haired supporter let out in frustration, then with two fingers he slapped Rōkura across the forehead.

She had to do a double take to believe what he had just done.

“That—was for your behavior, Oni-san.”

Rōkura blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. Your anger is a powerful tool, a glorious weapon, Rōkura-san.” He clicked his tongue with annoyance and sighed. “Oh—you are young, you little fool.”

“Tell me!”

“Suko is on our side.”

She wouldn’t have been more surprised if a stack of roofing tiles and crused the carriage at that moment. “Nani?!”

“Yes,” Hans said with a nod. Then he smiled. “You little fool.”

“Explain!”

The carriage trundled along soothingly. Hans always did enjoy a good carriage ride, and though the summer heat was stifling, the cool winds from yet another approaching storm, blew into the compartment.

It was glorious and wonderful and Hans felt amazing that things were going so well. He wanted to laugh, to cheer, and to dance with Rōkura.

“The others…” he said, “are at the city prisons.”

Her eyes nearly bulged as hope soared inside her heart. “Wait, you mean—“

“Yes,” Hans said. “I’ve noticed our friend Suko-san has been feeling quite guilty and uncertain. I can see this things, young lady.”

“That’s why you spoke so cheerily about…”

“Indeed,” he said with a smirk. “The woman is positively oozing with guild and doubt. So, I thrust my rapier where it hurt most—so to speak.”

Rōkura smiled. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yes, well… do not get too excited. We must play this out perfectly, or else we will not be able to free the others.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We have two days until the…” he trailed off uncertainly as he gestured with his fingers flourishingly.

“Until the summer harvest festival.”

“Precisely. Thank you. So. We will stay at the Zarigani-sama! and prepare.”

“All right,” Rōkura said, her mood having changed considerably.

When they stepped out of the carriage, Hans thought he was of a mind to transform into a cat and go see the city prisons. Surely getting them out would be no problem, especially if Rōkura was causing a ruckus like Shōzu wanted.

The carriage driver looked at them under the brim of a straw hat that tapered into a shallow cone and then shook the reigns and trundled off. However, Rōkura came up short, she had Hans, as they approached the front doors of the lovely little inn, the Zarigani-sama!

They both groaned at the long line of street fighters, many of them even bigger and more muscled than before, their weapons more elaborate and varying than Hans had seen any of the soldiers using while in the encampment outside of the city.

Rōkura sighed. “What did you say about not getting too friendly with the words ‘no way’”?

“What I meant to say,” Hans said, “is that there is the hope.”

One of the street fighters walked forward. He was a huge brawler, and Hans wondered where this kingdom made brutes like this, because he had to crane his neck to look up into the monster’s eyes.

“’The beast regards and may not a meal make.’”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Hans said. “Just a quote from an old fairy tale from my own world.” He sighed. “Well—there’s nothing for it, if we don’t clear this rabble before dinner.”

“Easy!” Rōkura proclaimed, and took out her sword and handed it to Hans.

“I’ll just wait over here.”

She nodded. “Mm!”

While Rōkura took on twenty toughs, her heart full of burning hate and soaring hope, she smiled.

Meanwhile, in the Capital, Shinjiro had left his place of work where he had just finished escorting the wife of a noble and went to the docks to check the ships tickets.

His eyes widened upon being told that Rōkura’s ship was spotting wrecked off the coast near Chōdaira. His heart thundered inside his chest. Without a second’s thought, he ran to the banks and deposited most of his loose coin, holding just enough to buy provisions for his travel.

Running, the samurai went to the city stables and paid far too much for a horse. But he didn’t care. “Rōkura!” he called, riding his new mount, surprised that it was far swifter than he had imagined possible.

“What have I done?” he asked of himself as he glanced down at the animal and smiled. I will be in Chōdaira in no time at all. By the kami—shipwrecked! I can’t believe it. I hope you’re all right, Rōkura.

He increased his mount’s speed, stopping only to rest the horse, walk her, then continue at the best speed his mount could sustain. Shinjiro had to get to the city as soon as possible to begin his search for Rōkura.

There had been no list if known survivors, but if she was alive, finding a hot-pink-skinned oni shouldn’t be all that difficult.

As he made it to the top of a hill on the outskirts of the city, Shinjiro saw that another storm of black clouds was brewing far out on the horizon. He held hope in his heart that those clouds didn’t presage an answer he dreaded might wait for him in Chōdaira.