Chapter XII—The Cat and the Oni

The clouds were a black mass of roiling clouds as the wind stirred and blew, sending agitated ripples over the Tsundai River’s surface.

With narrowed eyes and a grandiose sense of change held in the palm of her hand, Rōkura regarded the army from atop the hill she and her commanders stood upon.

Because she had invaded the northern lands during the summer, and her enemy having used scorched earth tactics against her, the neighboring tribes had found themselves lacking in food and were no on a migratory path of pillage and resettlement.

That the fools thought they could simply march across the land proclaiming their newfound loyalty to His Majesty the King, they thought wrong.

No horde would be allowed into Anjō Ōkoku to settle and breed like rats. The Ōmiya weren’t even oni!

Wanting to push north, Rōkura had been left with two options, push her enemy’s retreat until their lands became that of the kingdom, or retreat to stop the sudden match of the Ōmiya settlers, now calling themselves the Holy Pilgrims of Ōmiya.

Rōkura ground her teeth as the rain soaked through her cape and tinkled loudly over her armor, and that of the oni surrounding her.

The visibility was low, so the tree line across the river was barely visible. But they were there, and indeed, a battle horn went up on the Anjō side, warning of an enemy sighting ahead.

The Tsundai river was shallow and easily fordable by an army. Though it would slow the enemy advance, it would not provide a barrier to entry into Anjō by the Ōmiya forces.

Rōkura smiled.

“My Princess,” said Lord Toruhara. “Should we not withdraw? They’re forced outnumber our two to one.”

With a smile, she said, “I have a plan.”

“Pray tell what it is, my lady,” said Zenshiteru. “If we do not make a decision soon, they will encircle us.”

“True,” said Rōkura. “But it was my decision to attack the northern kingdoms. This problem is on my head. I cannot very well tuck tail between my legs and run to my father for help.”

“Is death preferable?” Lord Toruhara asked.

She looked at him over her shoulder. Toruhara was a tall oni with human-like skin and short black horns that barely extended out of his hair. “You forget yourself, Lord.”

“My apologies, Princess,” he said with a bow.

“Never mind!” said Rōkura as she grasped the hilt of her katana sticking up out of her sash. “

It was time to make her move against this rabble. Though, as her advisors said, they did outnumber her forces two to one, many of their warriors were farmers, stable boys, and takings from the genera peasantry.

Their elite troops—if they could be called that, were concentrated in their center, along with their leader and his newfound religion. She sneered. His games would not gain him entry to the lands of Anjō—and neither would his brute force tactics.

The brazier cracked and hissed behind her, proving some warmth in this cold autumn night full of heavy rain and wind.

She was not cold.

The glorious rush kept her warm, like a cloak of protection. The gods are on our side—not theirs.

She had arrayed the army with a slightly weakened center, hoping the enemy would notice, and it seemed they had. Rōkura’s lines extended outward far beyond what was visible in this deluge.

If the Ōmiya thought they could rush past the river and use this cover to move past her, they were wrong, and if they thought they could overrun her position—well, she had devised a strategy for that.

“Their baggage train is two kilometers from the river’s edge.”

“Should we send one of our reserve forces to attack their supply lines?” asked Lord Toruhara.

“No,” she said. “Send the outer left and right flanks into full advance. “Order the men to attack their encampment and to destroy all in their path.”

“Yes!” Zenshiteru said, his eyes going wide. “This is perfect. It would cause the Ōmiya to send most of their forces in a panicked retreat to protect their people.”

“Is that not a breach of the Ashikaedi Accords, Princess?”

“Is picking up and migrating with two-hundred thousand people not a breach of decorum as well?” asked Rōkura in response.

“But!” said Lord Toruhara. “Think of the women and children. They will be slaughtered.”

“Incorrect,” said Rōkura.

“Our cavalry are far heavier and slower than the Ōmiya lightly armored horses. Our men will be caught.”

“Then you mean to…” said her adviser, a look of horror coming over her features.

“A very steep price to pay for victory,” said Zenshiteru. “My Princess, you are a shrewd tactician.”

“Sacrificing ten thousand of our own men,” said Toruhara as he finally managed to get the words out. “Nobles. Good men with wives and children and—“

“Enough,” said Rōkura. “Either give the order, or step away so someone else can.”

“I…”

“Guards!” Rōkura called. “Remove Lord Toruhara and keep him under watch I his tent until I give the order to do otherwise.”

“Yes, Majesty,” Isaye said with a bow. He was her best and most loyal guard. He strode forward in his blue armor. His skin was a pale grey, making him look like a shadow, and indeed the Cloud of Jun was what he was called.

“You bring dishonor to the army and your father’s house!” called Lord Toruhara.

“Take him away,” Rōkura said, waving her hand as she turned back to the battle.

The orders were given and the men began to march.

The enemy’s battle lines—which were now visible upon the edge of the river, bristled. Moments passed and their horns for advance were sounded.

Magical balls of energy arced over the field, bringing light and death with them.

Fire exploded, men died.

The first advance was a spread out wave of shock troops and mages. The tight-knit battle formations would come next after one side’s magical reserves were depleted.

Rōkura watched the skirmish from the hill.

“Send two of the war beasts to the left flank.” She pointed. “I see our men buckling. In that quadrant.”

“Yes, my princess!”

“Majesty!” called one of her spotters. “I see their center mass beginning to move.”

She smiled. “As I suspected they would. We just have to hold them back until our flanking forces can push past their army.”

Once they sent enough detachments to deal with the threat, Rōkura would commit the bulk of her forces to hit and surround the Ōmiya center. If her men could push though—which they would—she would encircle and entrap their pathetic leader, and this conflict would be over.

Then Rōkura could continue her wars in the north, undisturbed. Even now King Hoshj was reassembling his forces.

It frustrated Rōkura.

“My lady!”

“What is it?”

“They have champions pushing the center.”

“Then deal with them—I don’t have patience for tricks or desperate tactics.”

“They’re cutting through our men.”

“It’s their Legendary Champion with the Sundown Riders!”

“Stupid name. Cut them down,” commanded Rōkura. “Send in our mages if you have to.”

“Your Majesty! It’s too late, they’re in our ranks pushing through our center mass. Our men can’t stop them.”

“What?!”

The rest of her honor guard bristled, and the men came forward. Rōkura hated these kinds of tactics. They were foolhardy, reckless, costly—though she wasn’t afraid to make sacrifices herself—but above all, messy!

“My lady!” called Riojiusuki, her second greatest champion. He pushed forward, his long and impressive horns reaching high above his head. “I must insist that you leave the front.”

A ruckus broke out overhead.

Screamed erupted.

Rōkura gasped, glancing in that direction.

‘They’re coming!” someone cried. “The Legendary Champion of the Sundown Riders!”

Growling through her teeth, Rōkura muttered, “Shinta!” Then glancing back and making direct eye contact with Riojiusuki, she said, “We will use this opportunity to cut him down!”

“Yes, Highness!”

Her champion put his helmet on and her mean spread out, bristling at the coming charge while Rōkura stepped back behind them.

She pulled her katana free and held it defensively in front of her as as the man, both parting in fear, but also knocked away by the sheer force of their legendary fighter, parted.

He burst forth, swinging his sword and casting magic, his honor guard growling and shouting. Her men screamed.

The sword skirl and the battle cries were defining among the explosions of fire and crackling magic that lit her command structure, sending noncombatants fleeing in every direction.

Shinta, tall and strong, and covered in armor, flew forward, knocking Riojiusuki aside. Someone screamed, “For the Pale Dragons!”

The whirlwind that assaulted Rōkura sent her world shattering to pieces, and she burst up from her pillow in a gasp with wide eyes.

Breathing heavily, she glanced about, and put her hand on her chest. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt and a cold sweat had covered her entire body.

“Only…” she muttered. “A dream…”

Narrowing her eyes, the oni girl wondered how it could have been so vivid. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep—and having trouble at that, since they had big plans.

And then the dream. And yet… it was so vivid. Like… a memory!

“Hans?” she called weakly.

There was no answer as the morning sun, pale and defused by grey clouds shone through her window across her bed, barely cutting a lone.

Rōkura turned and glanced through the panes of glass into the sky. It was miserably outside. She hugged herself.

It was cold.

Rōkura’s stomach demanded that she get up and eat.

Sneaking out on foot surely would not do. Even now, Hans Bellefeuille knew that the inn of the Zarigani-sama! was being watched, even if Suko hadn’t accompanied them back.

But as a cat…

He smiled with sly amusement through his glasses as he wandered about, far from there, completely unknown to Shōzu’s spies. Oh right, I should have left a note for Rōkura-san. Hans chortled. Silly me.

Having wandered past some food stalls, he thought that he might bring her back something to eat. But at least if she got hungry she could by some food at the inn. What was here in this section of Chōdaira amounted to a local culinary art, though.

The smells of the food wafted into his nose, and he almost stopped to get a bite himself. Surprised, the locals saw him mostly with disinterest, despite his golden hair and obvious foreign looks.

Chōdaira was what, a day’s hard ride from the Capital? That must be why. There are other foreigners about as well.

Good.

“Excuse me?” he asked the shop keeper cooking some kind of sweat noodles. “I am new to this city, you see and my cousin, he got into a bit of a tussle in one of the taverns you see…”

The friendly old lady smiled, nodded knowing. “The city jail is on Emica and Toki, gaijin-san.”

“Why, thank you,” he said, and proffered a small bow. “I will return later to um—purchase some of your fine desert.”

She looked at him funny as if desert was the last thing she was making.

With a sly smile, had made it to the prisons just around the time when Rōkura had awoken from her dream memory—for that was what it was, though she did not have the knowledge weather such memories were truth or lies.

And Hans…

He had no part in the dream memory either.

Hans glanced about, making sure no one could see him. Then he called, “Transformation Magic!” and in a flash of magic, he became a golden furred feline.

He loped across the stones, meeting that of a local Chōdairen pussy. She screamed and hissed before quickly running away in fright. If he could laugh in this state, he would have. “Meow!”

In a way, the prison was the perfect place to hold the hostages, though Hans knew not on what grounds. No one would come looking for hostages here. He had thought the camps near the great statue of Nomikinan would be more likely, and yet, here he was.

The prison grounds were surrounded by a wall, but are wasn’t very secure. Hans could try and slip in through the front gate, but he risked being caught. As a cat, he doubted any of the guards would go chasing after him, but it was best to limit the possibility.

In the alleyway he loped along as he searched for a place to get over the wall. There were some residential machiya houses close by. If he could get to the rooftops, he could jump across onto the wall.

From there, jumping down into the prison grounds wouldn’t be difficult. Getting out again, though, may take some time.

He was about to lope onto the steps the machiya to his right, when a large shadow suddenly loomed over him.

“Who are you?” the voice asked. It was feminine and sweet, filled with curiosity.

Hans turned and his eyes widened as a pair of hands shot forth. He jumped ot get away when they surrounded him,

“I got you!”

Oh—this is perfect! “Mew!”

“Oh, don’t cry, Gōru.”

Oh gods, what did she just call him?

The girl put her face up to him and kissed his neck. “I’m going to take care of you.” She giggled. “Asuhime—come here! I found something!”

Hans growled, his frustration

“You stop it,” the girl said. “You should not growl like that, Gōru. It’s bad manners. And besides,” she said happily, “I’m going to take you in for some fresh milk. You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Mew!”

“I know—meow! Meowmeow! Teehee!”

Rolling his eyes, Hans had to endure the coddling and petting as the girl, Minowa, took him inside. She adored cats, and fed many of the stray little beasts throughout her neighborhood.

And now she had Gōru to feed and take care off. His coat is so silky and soft! Minowa petted him some more, enjoying the the soft touch of his fur. The girl was surprised he had no flees.

“Hmm,,” she mused. “I wonder if you belong to somebody.

Hans growled.

“Now I thought I told you to stop it, Mister Gōru?” she asked as she lifted him up from under his front arms while looking him in the face with a—for a child—quite motherly look.

“Mew!”

“That’s better.”

She hugged him back to her chest and carried him over the road toward her house. When the door shut behind him, he almost jumped from her arms so that he could transform back into his normal form.

Despite what Shinjiro had called him, he was not a “cat man.”

But dammit, if she sees be transform, it will be the talk of the neighborhood and my cover will be ruined. No—I have to get away from her while in my cat form… And then into the prison.

He simply had to be patient, wait for his moment.

Unfortunately the attentiveness of Minowa, now combined with Asuhime, who just arrived to see what she was calling about, would make this all the more drawn out and tiring as the little girls amused themselves by “taking care” of the “stray.”

Asuhime’s eyes widened and she exclaimed, quite loudly, “He’s beautiful!”

“I know!” said Minowa. “Look at his fur. Touch it.”

“It’s so golden.”

“I’m calling him Mister Gōru from now on.”

Asuhime covered her mouth in a giggle. “I like it.”

“It’s perfect.”

Hans growled.

Asuhime gasped, her eyes filled with worry.

“He’s a naughty boy,” said Minowa. Then in a voice as if she were speaking to an infant, she added, “Aren’t you, Muster Gōru?”

Oh, you have no idea… He was half tempted to let out his claws on her chubby little face, but thought better of it when he imagined how Rōkura would react to his behavior with the child.

Hans might have been a scheming, duplicitous little bastard, but if there was one thing he valued, it was loyalty to his patron deity and his friends. He sighed, in whatever approximation a cat can sigh.

Asuhime giggled. “Can I hold him?”

This is my chance!

“Of course, but be careful and don’t let him jump. He’s very skittish.”

Asuhime put out her terrible little hands and took hold of Hans, quite tightly, to his growing frustration and detriment. His eyes were slits, sly and evil, and… trying to be patient.

“Meow…”

“Awe, don’t cry, Mister, Gōru.”

Meanwhile, as Hans learned all new definitions in the exercise of patience, Rōkura was, at that time, dressing herself in the cloak given to her by Suko. She still couldn’t believe the woman was on their side.

Hans was nowhere to be seen. Rōkura intended to go downstairs to see if she could find him, and if she couldn’t, she decided that she would assume he went out on a scouting mission.

In the meantime, whether or not he was in the Zarigani-sama! she intended to get something to eat. Her stomach was was growling incessantly, and had it had a fist to shake, she knew it would.

She closed and locked the door to their rooms after putting her sword belt on. The landing was well lit, but the stairs were a little dark. Gingerly she stepped onto the first stair, then the second, then—

She stumbled, though she couldn’t see how!

“Wuah-wuah! UwwWWUAAAHh!”

Touma was smiling as he wiped the table clean when suddenly someone screamed from the top of the stairs and there was a loud rumbling sound.

Dropping the washcloth, he hurried toward the stairs where he found a rumpled figure hunched next to the wall covered in a voluminous cloak. It was that oni girl!

“Hnngh!” Rōkura grunted as she attempted to pull free.

Oh gods! They won’t budge!

Touma watched, wide eyed as the oni girl grunted and squirmed. What was she…?

Rōkura could sense someone watching, but with both of her horns sticking firmly into the wood paneling in the wall, she couldn’t turn her head. Suddenly her cheeks heated furiously.

Finally she got an idea, and moving quickly, she lifted her clawed foot and pressed it to the panel and pushed. With a final grunt she came free and almost fell back from the force of her escape. Instead, she whirled with her shoulders, catching herself in the frame leading to the common room. She must have looked drunk with her body heaving back and forth. She smiled at the innkeeper and found a place to sit down.

Touma watched the oni girl, then he glanced back at the wood paneling. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung slack jawed. He went to the bottom of the stairs and glanced back very quickly to make sure she wasn’t watching him, but fortunately she had sit down with her back facing him.

While the innkeeper inspected the damage with both his eyes and his hands, Rōkura put had hands over her cheeks and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress her embarrassment and her flaming red cheeks.

Touma walked past the oni and pretended he hadn’t seen anything. He wasn’t aware of oni tradition or custom, but what the girl was doing must have been something related to the care and maintenance of her horns.

He knew that some wild pigs often grew their tusks out until they curved in on their own heads. Perhaps what she was doing was designed to limit their growth?

Finding himself in the kitchen, he decided he would bring her a cup of milk on the house. But why not use a saw?

Perhaps that would make the horns look bad. But then… she could always file them stumps down into points. Maybe there was something he didn’t understand. The kami knew that understanding foreigners was hard enough, but this girl wasn’t even human.

Rōkura tapped her foot against the polished wooden floors, both out of desperation and impatience as she waited for the innkeeper to arrive. She opened her glowing aqua-blue eyes and surveyed the common room.

There was an older fellow with something alcoholic in his hands. Far too early for that, while at the front bar area a man in a cloak and armor sat. He didn’t turn to look at Rōkura, but she thought he was probably some kind of adventurer.

Or was he one of Shōzu’s spies?

No, he was far too ragged and common to be one of that pompous daimyo’s spies. She sighed, waited. Sighed again and continued waiting.

Hans was nowhere to be seen.

When the innkeeper finally approached, he brought her something. A mug. He pushed it toward her with a smile. “For you,” he said.

“Ari—arigatou!” she said, surprised.

“Do you want some breakfast?”

Her stomach made a noise. “Yes, please.” She had plenty of coin and could pay for whatever she wanted. Rōkura decided she wanted meat. And a lot of it!

With ha sigh of relief, Hans whipped his tail.

Those little monsters had their hands all over him, but when their mother called for breakfast, their sudden surprise and delight caused them both to look away. Hans had jumped with all his might.

When in his cat form, he wasn’t powerful.

He was a cat.

It was possible that he might have used his claws a little as well, but not too ferociously. Finally, now that he had gotten away, he managed to slip about the room while the girls chased him, screaming and shouting.

Their mother had come into the room demanding the meaning of their noise, when Hans had slipped out the open window.

Hitting a stroke of luck, he realized he was on the mid level of the machiya, which gave him perfect access to the prison wall. Beyond the wall were a series of trees grown a short distance away so the prisoners couldn’t climb them to get over.

Still, they covered most of the prison from view here in this part of the neighborhood. Hand slinked back and forth on the edge of the roof.

The girls cried out, pointing to him through the window when he saw the face of a beautiful women lean out and peer at him.

“Meow.”

Their mother said something to the effect of how beautiful his fur was, but that it was time for them to go downstairs and ear. To the dismay of both little girls, they obeyed, and Hans actually felt a little bit sorry for them.

Happy to be away, but he still sympathized.

I have work to do.

He never imagined how monstrous the little hands of a pair of girls could be. Turning his head and his sly gaze back over the rood, he realized the jump would be a little more difficult than he thought.

Still, he backed away, then got some speed.

Then he sprinted toward the edge, his heart beating somewhat. The fall would hurt if he missed the wall, but it wouldn’t kill him and he doubt it would break any of his bones.

He was a cat, agile of eye and body.

If he fell, he would turn his body and land on his feet.

However, the part about having nine lives was utter nonsense concocted by some fool who served up cats for eating, surely.

Ready to make the leap, Hans backed away once again and enjoyed the cool breeze blowing in from the storm clouds on the horizon. He loved the swelter of a hot summer’s day just as cool winds from a storm blew in.

It was the best form of weather, the kind that made him feel alive.

Hans sprinted, the wall looming up toward him before the drop to the road became evident. He launched himself off the tiled roof with his front and back legs and flew through the air.

Spreading his legs out for balance, he came down atop the wall, landing on his front feet. He kicked his back feet, but they mostly missed, scratching the wall as he pulled himself over.

Landing on his front legs in the prison yard was somewhat of a jounce on his joints, but he managed it.

The yard was empty, save for the guards in the towers and the men at the gates. All in all there was maybe six men outside guarding the prison. Now time to slip inside and see what we’re dealing with.

A bird hopped across the grass under the tree, joyfully pecking at some morsel. His eyes followed its movements instinctually. He wanted so much to lower himself and stalk the bird, to pounce and to put its throat in his teeth.

That was one of the nice side bonuses to this animal-form magic.

Even still, I am not a cat man!

Stuffing her face with both hands, Rōkura enjoyed her breakfast immensely. She thought she would have time to ponder her strange dream, but between falling down the stairs like a completely idiot and enjoying her food like a dog that hadn’t eaten in a week, she still hadn’t had time to give it much thought.

Touma arrived with another plate of sizzling meet. There was bacon, based pork, roast hen, and even frog legs! She ate them all, enjoying them all, including the nasty-looking frog legs. It was a freebee thrown in, so the oni couldn’t see a reason not to try them—and she was pleasantly surprised.

When she finally finished everything on the table, Rōkura wondered if she would be able to get up without accidentally burping up half her food. She drank a long draft of her milk to help keep it all down.

Then she did burp, but it wasn’t too bad. Smacking her lips a bit, she realized she needed something to pick her teeth. All that meat…

Glancing about, she saw no one looking, and decided to use her finger nail. It was sharp and pretty good for the task, even if it did make her look like an uncultured mountain troll.

Back in the kitchen, Touma wrote up the bill for the meal. Actually, he wrote up a bill comparable to three meals, but he wasn’t about to write Meat Plate three times on the paper.

Glancing about, he wanted to throw something else in for the girl. She seemed to be having a hard time with her horns. Touma wondered where her companion was. Glancing about, he gave it some thought, when he saw one of his many whetstones he used for the upkeep of his fish knives. “Ah!” It is perfect for her.

Rokura rubbed her pained stomach to sooth herself as the innkeeper returned with the bill. He slid it over the table and nodded with a big smile. “Good, eh?”

“Hai!” she said with a smile. The barely looked at the bill and tossed down a gold coin.

“Oh,” Touma said, confused. That was far too much to be dropping on the table.

“Nani? Is it not good?”

“Ah,” he said, not sure what to say exactly. “No… No, let me go into the back and find the coins to exchange for this.”

As he went into his back filing closet where he kept all his records, he looked through his coins and counted out enough silver to make up for the gold. No one had ever paid in gold before—not in that much at least.

There had been that one time when a noble’s son had come. He had paid for his entire company of guests, but even then, the coin he had used had been worth about three quarters of the giant his oni guest clinked onto the table.

It was no wonder she didn’t know what to do with her horns. Rich people… they were another breed. They didn’t know how to take care of themselves in the same ways that the commoner chōnin class did.

Touma clicked his tongue. “Oh—poor girl.” He put the silvers into a little cloth sack with a chinkchinkchink and went back out to her. Smiling, he felt nervous and even self-conscious as she looked at him with those glowing eyes.

Like a demonic yōkai’s eyes. He felt guilty for thinking of her like that. He turned to leave her be, when he suddenly remembered. “Oh!” he gasped, turning, and she looked at him anew.

Rōkura waited for the innkeeper to say what he had to say, and thought he seemed very friendly, but also a little shy, which made her cheeks smart with embarrassment.

He reached over the table and took her hand in his. Rōkura’s eyes widened when he slipped a small stone in her hand. It was smooth, and yet rough to the touch. A whetstone? For my sword?

Touma smiled, but without the heart to explain it to her, he simply mimed filing down horns above his own head, nodded, and left her there.

Rōkura watched the innkeeper go with a gaping mouth. “He wants me to… file my horns?” She glanced back at the damage she had done to the wood panels. “I have money,” she called weakly, but he probably didn’t hear her, because he was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling incredibly embarrassed, she pocketed the whetstone as well as the coin purse and got up from the table.

With a heavy sigh, she wondered what was next.

I shouldn’t go out looking for Hans. Those spies will be on my ass before I know it.

Throwing up her hands in defeat, she turned and went back up to their room. When she shut the door, she sniffed the air. Something smelled—

Oh…

The last time the oni had bathed was two days ago when she had taken a swim in the river after she had…

The thought of when she had accidentally peed herself sent hot coals to her cheeks. She closed her eyes, feeling the embarrassment anew.

Accidentally.

Like how she had accidentally fallen down the stairs. How her horns had accidentally stuck into the wall panels.

If she went to take a bath, she would probably accidentally drown.

“Accident…”

She touched her lips with her fingers as she uttered the single word.

Rōkura sighed.

The samurai were far too good to serve any kind of a stint working at the Chōdaira city prison. Really, this place was for minor criminals, where the true dungeons were for special criminals the elites wanted to keep secret, away from the public eye.

There were several such dungeons in Chōdaira.

The only reason Shōzu had not put the hostages in one of these dungeons, was because of the questions that would be asked. If worst came to worst, the prisoners could complain about very little other than being held in the city jail on false charges.

In any event, the guards at the jail were lazy, lax and fat.

The front desk guard had his head laid where it lolled uncomfortably against his shoulder, his bare feet up on the desk and his sandals left on the stone floors. The jail, or “prison” as some called it, was a quiet, lonely place, where few but the town drunkards and occasional thug were locked up.

The prisoners were all held in multiple cells throughout the bottom level, Hans had discovered, and mostly seemed bored and unworried.

They don’t’ even know they are hostages!

One of the guards had spotted him, chased after Hans, but he quickly lost the slow man as he mewed with annoyance and flicked his tail.

He strode up behind the guard at the front desk as he snored.

No one was about.

Silently, he jumped atop the desk and couldn’t help but start purring. In fact, whenever Hans took his cat form, he tended to inadvertently exhibit certain feline habits afterward for a short time.

He just hopped Rōkura didn’t wake up one morning while he buried his head in her lap purring for attention in his human form. If only I could laugh right now…

The keys were linked on a single ring. He could take that ring of keys, but then the locks would be changed and suspicion would abound.

In fact, should he change back into his human form, he had no doubts he could overpower the guards right now and get the prisoners out. But corralling them and getting them out of Chōdaira would take time.

Time they didn’t have.

That, and there may be spies here in the jail right now. No, I cannot get them out. What would happen to Rōkura should they all be killed because I was sloppy?

That would not do.

Best to wait when the shōgun was in the city, when the Tsurugo district was ablaze. That way any disturbance at the prison could go unnoticed. Yes, indeed.

On his way out, Hans pondered how many carriages they would need to transport thirty or so people.

It wasn’t like they didn’t have access to the funds required of them.

The cat’s sea-blue eyes took on a sly edge as Hans the cat, but not the cat man, left the prison grounds, finding it much easier than he had originally expected. He simply strode between the iron pickets.

While Hans was espying the hostages at the prison, Rōkura had taken a nap, but upon awakening, she had decided to order up a bath.

The room Hans had paid for was quite large and had several chambers, including a private bath chamber. The oni ordered up a hot path, and the innkeeper’s son had brought the boiling water into the chamber, using it to heat the cold water he had put into the tub.

Leaving an extra lidded casket to heat the water anew should Rōkura decide she wanted to extend her bath, the innkeeper’s son had nodded and left her. She was very well surprised at the quality service in this establishment.

But then, she wondered why that was.

Rōkura knew nothing of inns, especially not on what constituted “quality.” In any event, she undressed, leaving her Mizu armor on a wooden bench to be sponged later. I really should get some undergarments…

She washed herself with the soap bars as her skin prickled. The hot water made her suck in air through her teeth because it was just a little too hot, but once her skin was acclimatized to the heat, it was no problem.

With a big smile, she scrubbed and relaxed herself.

She needed this.

It’s so good.

And the wonderful thing about it was that the bathtub was far too shallow for Rōkura to “accidentally” drown herself.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry about that.

But even with this horrible ability, I’m still strong enough to kill my enemies.

No—she wouldn’t cry.

If Rōkura could choose again, to pass on or to accept Ogai-sama’s contract, she would choose the contract again.

She had much to do—much blood to spill.

For her parents.

Rōkura’s cheeks were gaining color and she began to feel drowsy again. Resting her head back against the rim of the wooden tub, she fell asleep.

Hans came into the room with excitement laden in his heart. He wanted to tell Rōkura what he had discovered. “Rōkura!” he called. “Rōkura?” Is she not here? I didn’t see her in the common room.

He went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Rōkura? Are you in there?”

There was no answer.

Blinking drowsily, Rōkura opened her eyes just as the door was opening. She had accidentally forgotten to turn the lock.

Hans poked his head into the room and his golden bangs swayed slightly as his blue eyes widened in recognition of her lying naked in the tub. “Oh!” He pulled back. “My apologies, Oni-san.”

She quickly stood up in the steamy room, her her cheeks flaming, but it wasn’t like this was the first time someone had seen her naked. In fact, that seemed to happen a lot. “It’s okay,” she said. “It was an accident.”

There’s that word again.

“Indeed,” he said through the door. He felt embarrassed and his own cheeks became hot.

Rōkura needed to rinse off. She undid the lid on the small casket of hot water, lifted it and dunked it on her head. It splashed over her body like hot burning fire.

Tendrils of steam rose from her hot-pink skin, now leaning heavily on the side of hot and red.

“AaaaaaAAAYYYEEEE!!!!!!”

Hans whirled toward the bathroom door. “RŌKURA?”

No answer.

He burst through the door. “RŌKURA! ARE YOU—?“

She stood there, the empty bucket over her head and her whole body shaking from the pain as her teeth shivered from the sheer need to scream again.

“I…” Hans began. “You…” He glanced up at the bucket, pointing with a finger.

His eyes fell across her breasts and lower down to—

Rage took her.

Haven’t you seen me naked enough?!

The oni growled through her teeth, her eyes seeing red as she pulled the casket back for a power strike. “HANS—YOU’RE JUST LIKE OGAI-SAMA, YOU PERVERT!”

“No! Rōkura, wait!” he slipped through the door and the bucket smacked into it and bounced back down to the floor and hit her in the toe.

The fire of pain that shot up through her foot made her scream again. Her eyes welled up. With the need to destroy something to keep from howling in pain, Rōkura grabbed the lip of the tub and lifted, then slammed it down onto the hardwood floor with a heavy thump!

She growled in pain.

Kami-sama! Hans wasn’t one to call on the gods, but he realized Rokura was a very angry oni teenager right now. “I’m sorry. I—you screamed… I thought you were—

Thump!

“I’m not a pervert, Rōkura.”

Oh gods—the pain! “Hnnngh!

Thump.

Rōkura?”

Thump.

Lifting an eyebrow, Touma glanced up at the ceiling as the thumping noises came from the room he had rented to his oni guest and her companion and he wondered why she wasn’t using the stone?

“Hmm,” he noised, taking his chin in his hand. “Perhaps I was not clear,” he said. Then an idea came to him. He raised a finger and took a piece of paper and in the best flowing script he could manage wrote the words telling her to “use the stone.”

With a satisfied nod, he thought that his calligraphy wasn’t too bad.

Touma slipped the note under their door, then he left to go to the market. The Zarigani-sama! needed to be restocked. The strange oni girl had eaten the last of his meat stores after all, and he wanted to be restocked for his other customers, and… for her. Hai! She really likes meat! Sugoi desu ne!

While Rōkura lay in her bed next to the cool air of the open window, Hans tried not to look at her too mush. She was wearing not but bed sheet after all.

He saw something under the door and frowned.

When the golden-haired supporter picked up the paper, he realized it was a note. “Use the stone?” he muttered to himself too quietly for Rōkura to hear.

“What’s that? Asked Rōkura.

He glanced up at her and crumbled it up in his hand behind his back. “Oh—nothing. Just a piece of refuse I found on the floor.” He smiled. “Don’t mind.”

Touma-san must really have a sardonic side to that friendly demeanor of his…

“Rōkura…”

“Hm?”

“I believe I do have one last potion, if I recall.”

She brightened. “Oh gods—please!” She reached out in want of it, ready to be done with the smarting pain on her head and shoulders.

Hans smiled, pushed up his glasses and dug into his satchel he kept hanging on a chair. “I’ll tell you all about my day after you drink this. I think you will be pleasantly surprised at what I discovered about the jail—and another thing as well.”

Perhaps Touma-san should rename his inn to The Oni Lobster?