Tobi stood alone, eyes closed, his feet firmly placed on the padded floor of the dojo. There were three enemies around him, he knew. He could sense them, particularly their fierce determination and eagerness for the coming bout. Jakob, Aki, and Noda. Three relatively young warriors recently recognized for their talents and named Masters. As Captain of Issho-Ni, it was his duty to continue their training, and, through daily fights, make sure that they stayed sharp.

He took a long deep breath to steady himself, then lifted his free hand. The other clutched the smooth wooden handle of his naginata firmly, holding it ready to act. He’d mastered a few different weapons in his time, but the long spear was the most comfortable in his hands. It was part of his identity. He’d probably prefer the weapon for as long as he lived.

“Begin,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes open and focused. As expected, Jakob was the first to act. Sliding one foot forward for purchase, he pushed off with the other, his long sword swinging up from the side. Tobi made no move to block it, as he knew Jakob was fond of feints. Sure enough, as he stepped away and turned, the sword whipped around to swing downward. With a half spin of the naginata, he knocked the weapon away.

Aki was next, stepping in with her twin short staves. She pressed Tobi for space, forcing him to keep moving his weapon in defensive strokes. She desisted only when he struck out his free hand, and hopped away before he could make contact. Before he could pursue her any further, Noda struck from behind, his katana much longer and clearing the distance instantly.

Tobi spun just in time to avoid the tip of the practice weapon, and, with his much lower stance, kicked out at Jakob who had come back in for another strike. Jakob was forced to raise his right elbow to block the kick, ruining his chance to attack, and Tobi’s next strike, a flat stomp with the other leg while his free hand supported his weight, hit him squarely in the chest, and knocked him back. He hit the ground on his back, an explosive grunt forced from him as the air left his lungs.

Aki advanced while his balance was uncertain, launching another flurry of attacks. The repeated clack of wood on wood rang out clearly in the dojo, and Tobi continued to dance back and to the side as he avoided her strikes. He kept his eyes on Noda, certain that he was looking for an opening. He was notoriously cautious in his fighting style. If he wouldn’t advance, Tobi decided that he would come to him.

Without warning, Tobi darted in the other direction. Aki, expecting him to go left again, staggered slightly with the lack of opposition. With two quick, lunging steps, he closed the distance and gave a mighty thrust. Noda, who was already in a defensive position, blocked the attack well, but was too slow in stopping Tobi from whacking him across the back of his knees with the staff of his spear.

Aki ran in once again, too eager to strike while Tobi had his back turned. This haste was her first mistake as Tobi, spinning in place, swung the blunt end of his spear in a low sweep. He knocked her legs out from under her, sending her crashing to the padded floor. Before she could move to recover, he had the point of his spear leveled at her face, pinning her in place.

A polite peal of applause rang out in the room, coming from the students who sat in a wide circle to spectate. To the apprentices, the display had been highly entertaining, and further cemented the image of mastery in their eyes. The more senior students had spotted the moments of hesitation or weakness in Tobi’s opponents’ stances. The sound of the applause broke through the concentration of the new Masters, and they recognized that the match was over. By the rules of single strike, Tobi had won.

“Damn,” Aki said with a sigh. She rolled to her feet as soon as Tobi lifted her weapon, and shook herself slightly. “I thought I had you there.”

Tobi held her gaze in silence for a moment, his face stern. “You rushed your attack and didn’t consider your balance. What would you have done if I’d blocked?’

She considered that for a moment, then admitted to herself that she didn’t know. Tobi hadn’t waited for an answer anyway and had instead turned to Noda. “Noda. You are too cautious. Your defense is excellent, but you need to use more of that raw power to attack. If you had supported Jakob, the two of you could have overwhelmed my defense, letting Aki strike more successfully.”

He turned to Jakob. “Rainhall, your form is excellent, as usual. But you need to rely on your allies more often. Taking too much on yourself will only result in failure.”

Jakob met his eyes, looking slightly confused. Tobi had changed quite a bit since the death of his father, he thought. He’d lost a great deal of his joyful, mischievous air. In times past, he was always free to joke with, or else pass the time as a close friend and confidant. But all that had changed when he became Captain. Now he was the stern mentor. He existed to teach and to lead, and nothing else. Jakob offered his Captain a deep bow. “Thank you for your words of wisdom, Tobito-san. I will reflect on this.”

He turned and departed in a swish of white robes before Tobi could reply any further, his face set in a blank stare. Tobi knew what had gone through his mind, and had to suppress a flare of anger. Didn’t his old friend see that he was simply doing his job? His father had named him successor, and so now he must do what was necessary to keep Issho-Ni running. He had to be the stern figure of authority that his father had always been.

He flicked his hands at the other two to dismiss them. They accepted his quiet scowl as normal and after bowing, they too left. They weren’t as close to Tobi as Jakob was, and so couldn’t spot the same signs in their leader. They knew that Tobi had become more reserved since Shigeru’s death, but they attributed this to the stress of managing a collection of headstrong warriors.

“The rest of you are dismissed as well,” Tobi told the students firmly. “Break into your groups and patrol. You will be relieved in three hours.”

The students moved to obey his orders, meeting with their mentors and preparing equipment. After the rebel invasion of only a year past, Issho-Ni had taken up responsibility for patrolling through the city of Milagre. The presence of the warriors not only soothed the frayed nerves of the citizens but also served as extra eyes to spot potential trouble.

“Are you patrolling alone again, Master Tobito?”

Tobi nodded in reply to whoever had asked the question, not looking up. He crossed over to the weapons rack to stow away his practice weapon and collected the metal version. He patted the pouch at his belt, making sure he had the dozen thin metal spikes and made his way out of the building. He moved quickly, exiting before any of the other groups were ready to depart. On a whim, he decided to turn towards the Residential District. There had been rumors of strangers harassing the citizens there for food and spare money.

This had been his daily cycle for just over a year since his father had died in the battle against the rebels. Shigeru Tokugawa had lived his entire life as a beacon of hope to the citizens of Gorteau, a strong leader dedicated to protecting the innocents and hunting criminals. It was only expected that Tobi, as his adopted son, would continue in this work.

After a month and some days of grieving his father, Tobi had thrown himself into the task of repairing the city, as well as hunting those known rebels who had led the attack. But no matter how many criminals he brought in, rumors and whispers continued to follow him. The people spoke in low voices that he still managed to hear as he passed. They thought him an inadequate replacement for his father. He couldn’t blame them for thinking this way.

Compared to the strong will and silver-bearded wisdom of his late father, Tobi’s fresh, unshaven face couldn’t have inspired much comfort in the townsfolk. How could he live up to the legend that Shigeru had created? The fact that he’d ascended after his life only further cemented his legendary skill and fame, leaving the sole son a nearly impossible burden to carry. Big shoes to fill, Tobi thought with a dull inward laugh. It was all he could do to keep training the members of Issho-Ni.

His chosen path took him through the main area of the Residential District. He took his time, knowing that the other groups of warriors would comb through the more active areas of the city. He liked to randomize his path each day so that anyone observing the organization couldn’t establish a pattern in his movements and find gaps to operate in.

He mused over the rumors he’d heard in the past two weeks. They were faint and unsubstantiated, but people didn’t complain that many times about something that wasn’t true. He was certain that there was a problem in Milagre, he just had to ferret it out. The townsfolk weren’t likely to talk if they were terrified, so he had to employ other methods to get the information he needed. The easiest choice, for him, was to ask the kinds of people who were everywhere.

He found who he was looking for at once. A dirty, disheveled figure was squatting on the ground in front of a fountain, appearing to doze in the mid-day sun. He was snoring in a very convincing manner, and the stained tunic he wore looked authentic enough. But Tobi’s discerning eye was able to make out the print of a dagger concealed under his clothing. It was a fine-boned weapon, not the kind you’d expect a beggar to carry honestly.

A few strides carried him across the cobbled central area, and he stopped before the man, his frame blotting out the sun and casting a shadow over the man. At once, his eyes opened. His lip curled as he looked up at the white-robed figure looming over him, and he gave a small, feeble wave to the side.

“You’re blocking the sun, Captain,” He hiccupped, laying extra scornful stress on Tobi’s title. “Leave a poor man to nap in peace, will ye?”

Tobi made no attempt to move, staring as the man continued to feign sleep. With a sigh, he nudged the man with the toe of his boot. “How long are you going to keep up this charade?”

The beggar opened his eyes again and squinted up. “There’s no need for the kick, sir Tibito, err, Tokiguwu. No law ‘gainst nappin, I wager.”

“Of course not,” Tobi replied, his voice unemotional. The beggar seemed amused that he didn’t reply to the intended insult. “But there is a law against hiding traitors to the nation, isn’t there?”

That gave the man pause, Tobi said. “What you talkin’ ‘bout, Master Captain? There ain’t no traitors here, you see? The only trouble is you, disturbing an honest man’s rest.”

Tobi let out a quiet sigh of exasperation. “Alright, I tried the nice way. Don’t blame me.”

The man opened his mouth to ask a question, but before could form the words, Tobi stooped down and grabbed him by the collar. At a closer angle, he could see that the stains were actually painted on, not the natural issue of living on the streets. He couldn’t even be bothered to camouflage himself properly, Tobi thought with a smirk. The fake beggar put up a feeble show of a struggle until Tobi hurled him into the fountain. He landed with a great splash, showering water everywhere, and came up spluttering.

“What the devil was that for?” He cried indignantly, drawing the attention of several nearby townsfolk. Yet, despite his apparent outrage, Tobi noticed that one hand carefully patted the dagger, as if checking to make sure it was still in place. “You see this, people? The prodigal son is here, never fear! He’s working hard, tossing innocent men into fountains, alright!”

But Tobi decided that he’d had enough of the act. With a quick movement, he swept the blunt end of his spear around and cracked the man painfully across the shoulder. “That’s enough. I know you’re not a beggar, so give it up. I need information.”

Just as the man opened his mouth to deny it, Tobi silenced him by holding up a gold coin. The man’s eyes fixed on it in an instant, and he ran a tongue across his lips. Casting a glance to either side, he snatched the coin and tucked it out of sight quickly. Then he hauled himself out of the fountain, splattering more water. Tobi moved carefully away to avoid the cascade of water and raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“So,” the man said, his voice clear, dropping the drunk act at once. He had the typical accentless voice of one who’d spent his entire life in the capital city, as Tobi had done. “What would you be wanting to know, Captain? Must be important, if you be slinging gold.”

“Why are you posted here in the residential district?” Tobi asked. “Surely your chief would make more money if you were in the markets. Does he know anything about what’s been going on in this area?”

“She knows plenty, she does,” the man replied, laying extra stress on the first word. He pulled his soaked outer tunic off and wrung out the water. “Rumor is we got foreign soldiers in Milagre.”

“Foreign?” Tobi asked, leaning forward with a glare. “How do you know they’re foreign?”

The man shrugged. “That’s just what the boss says. She’s got a way of knowing things, so I just do what she tells me.”

Tobi considered that. His experience with the various street gangs had taught him that, every once in a while, one exceptionally talented gang leader would appear, and their crew would generally have the best read on the city. They took control quickly, and, as long as they kept relatively tame, they could be a prime source of information. He had a vague feeling that this was one such gang.

“Alright,” he said, his voice firm again. “Take me to your chief, and I’ll ask her my questions.”

The man stood up straight, looking stubborn. “There ain’t no way in all the hells that I’m bringing you to our hideout.”

“Have it your way,” Tobi said with a slight shrug. “I’ll take you to the dungeons then, where you can stay for a few weeks.”

The man cocked his chin back and held out both hands, the image of stubborn loyalty. But as Tobi reached forward with rope to bind them, a voice called out from behind him. It had an unmistakable cadence of confidence to it, he thought. Without turning, he was already certain that this would be the leader. Still, he had to see. It never did to have a stranger behind his back.

A tall and lean woman, dressed from head to toe in tight-fitting black cloth, was sauntering towards him. A few strands of bright red hair were showing out of her deep hood, framing a set of sharp, clever eyes and a stiff smirk. She looked like a woman who knew her way around any sort of business, Tobi thought. His earlier suspicions about her prospects were strengthened.

“You’re this man’s leader,” Tobi said. It wasn’t a question. “What do you know about what’s been going on in this area? Tell me, or-”

She waved one of her hands casually. “There’s no need for the tough act, Master Tokugawa.”

Tobi blinked and took half a step back, more thrown by the genuine respect in her voice than by anything else. She didn’t seem to find him lacking, like many of the townsfolk. “Act? I assure you, it’s no act.”

“Right,” she said, her lips twitching with barely contained mirth. “So you’re suggesting that the bright, funny boy that grew up on these streets was the act? Please. You may have been forced to grow up very quickly, but you’re still the same man, deep down.”

“The same very skilled warrior,” Tobi reminded her. “Who’s not fond of beating around the bush.”

“As entertaining as a fight between us would be, I must politely decline,” the woman said. She didn’t look the least bit doubtful of her chances in such a match. “I fully intend to share all the information I have with you.”

“At what cost?” Tobi asked. “I can’t be known to openly trade with criminals.”

“And you won’t have to,” she assured him. “All I ask is that you use the information properly, and protect the people of this fine city. I care about Milagre, just as much as you.”

Tobi narrowed his eyes as he stared at her in silence, mulling over her words for several long seconds. Then, finally, he relaxed his stance and gave her a simple nod. The smirk widened into a true smile on her face, and instantly she became a different person. Gone was the cool, mysterious gang leader. Now she seemed more of a businesswoman than a criminal.

“Well then,” she said brightly. “Viktor, you go back to the hideout. I’ll accompany Tokugawa on a short tour.”

The man Tobi had accosted gave a brief salute. “Right away, boss. Good luck on your business.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and quickly disappeared into a nearby alley. Tobi watched him go, chewing his lip thoughtfully, wondering if he shouldn’t have just arrested the man to be sure. It went against the grain to let criminals roam freely for him. He put the matter away for the time being and turned to the woman.

“So. What exactly has been going on? I’ve received reports that citizens are being harassed by outsiders here, but I haven’t caught any sign of intruders.”

“Well,” she said slowly, turning to scan the area for eavesdroppers. “You won’t catch them alone. They’re crafty, and they threaten citizens into letting them hide in their homes. The people are keeping quiet about it all, for fear of their lives.”

“Who’s doing this?” Tobi asked, but he was sure he knew the answer already.

“Enemy soldiers. Not sure which nation they belong to just yet, but they’re very clearly foreign. They’re attempting to establish a foothold to invade Milagre.”