Shards, Part II

Summer

“I must apologise to you, husband.”

Junnosuke’s attention moved from his wife’s lovely neck to her eyes. They glistened in the darkness of their bed chamber, but the message of her moonlit pupils was unclear.

“Oh, I forgive you, whatever it is.”

“Don’t dismiss it so readily. I have a confession to make.”

She resisted his renewed caresses. The man, slightly disappointed because of it, sat up on the futon. Suddenly, he found the sounds of cicadae coming through the open window from the garden quite irritating. She sat up as well, caring not for covering her graces. He didn’t like her doing this, discussing serious issues with him while naked, for he knew it was a deliberate way to seek advantage over him. Once a Shosuro, ever a Shosuro. She lay her hands on her bared lap in a perversion of courtly routine.

“I must admit my selfishness, husband. I am often wondering these days what will become of me and our daughters once you die.”

This single sentence left him more defenceless and confounded than he thought possible. Even a dagger struck in his heart by his own wife would not surprise him now. Saimei mercilessly continued.

“I wonder about such things because despite your continued efforts to hide it from me, I am well aware of how quickly your health is deteriorating. I struggle daily not to spike your morning tea to incapacitate you enough to keep you in bed for a few days, so you could get finally some rest. I courted the idea of destroying some nerves in your arm so you would be transferred from your current position to a less strenuous one. I care not if we leave Ryoko Owari because of it, I would even rejoice at shedding my birthplace for a backwater outpost in the mountains if it only helped you recover. I have done neither these nor other things yet out of my respect for your dedication to duty and your sense of responsibility for our family, but my restraint is growing thinner with every day I see you coughing your lungs out. Do you think I cannot recognise your blood on my tongue when you kiss me?”

He could not speak a word, begging for quick death, for what she was doing to him was worse than that. And yet, these were only pincers before the sting.

“You think I am treasonous, challenging your loyalty to the Clan? Ask yourself this: how long are you able to continue like this before you collapse? What use your superior will have of a feeble, infirm caricature of you? We both know you likely won’t advance past your current position. I know you lack the ambition for it. And yet you work harder than is required of you, harder than your very superior finds imaginable. You spend yourself disproportionately, your vitality leaving you in streaks. As your wife I can squarely tell you that here you’re not the man you used to be. How can I give you son if your loins are tired?”

His face reddened as he jumped up, his fists clenched.

“Be silent, Saimei!”

She remained in place. The situation descended into something even she found hard to control, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’ve been silent for too long, husband, but this time you will hear me out. You must decide in your heart whether you divert yourself from this road to perdition for those who depend on you, for those who care of you and love you, or will you pursue your own downfall in the name of fulfilling your dead father’s demands.”

“Enough!”

She was already crying when he slapped her cheek. Oddly, it made his own burn.

“I’ve said it. Now you can punish me for my insolence.”

A wall of silence divided them. The intimacy they had shared a moment ago seemed only a dream. Junnosuke’s soul was in pain, his wife’s tongue struck it true. He cursed himself, for he realised that this shame was of his own making.

“You... you... you will go visit your sister for the autumn, and you will take the daughters with you.”

She halted sobbing and bowed.

“As my husband commands.”

When he left, she fell to the sheets, voicelessly weeping.

Autumn

“We will suffer famine this winter.”

The magistrate remarked as if he was commenting on the weather. Junnosuke nodded.

“I petitioned for reinforcements, and they are coming. They will be trained to deal with angry mob.”

Yoriki nodded again. This routine of their conversations was established over the long years they worked together. The superior’s monologues, the subordinate’s nods. Sometimes short comments or answers. But despite their differences in position, they were permeated by genuine camaraderie.

“I want them hard-tested.”

“I am at your disposal, Shosuro-sama.”

“You misunderstand. I want them swim on their own.”

“Then I will attend to the usual when they are tried.”

“Junnosuke-san, if you asked me for a hiatus to visit your wife and children in Shiro no Shosuro, I would consider it.”

The memory of shame almost paralysed him.

“I won’t ask for such a thing, Shosuro-sama. My duty is here.”

The magistrate sighed.

“Very well. The new men will arrive shortly. Arrange some looting of a few Mantis storehouses and frame one of the gangs. The situation will warm our new personnel up before the first snow.”

Winter

Junnosuke wiped the sweat off his forehead. The Loops seemed pacified once the perpetrators of rioting were cut down. This time it was incited by a woman not able to feed her children. And Junnosuke killed her when she refused to back down.

'Your daughters miss you', read the letter. 'Aki-chan said that you are the best father in the world when on first snow I gave her the snowflake netsuke, as you had bidden me to do. Haru-chan was jealous, but I made it up to her with a new kimono. I also promised to her that she will receive something in spring. Please, give it a thought.'

The ferric-ashen taste in his mouth forced him to spit out onto the already bloodied snow. He looked over the bay, trying to discern how the other bank is faring.

“My lord?”, asked one of his doshin.

“Yes, prepare to move out. Thunder Guard will handle it here. We proceed through Drunken Lovers.”

'I miss you as well. It is time for us to rejoin for the winter. I cannot be wife to you from this distance, and I heard your duty has turned harder due to recent difficulties. We are already packed for the journey back home.'

I pray to the Fortunes she has received my letter. She cannot come now!

When they crossed the bridge, the first fiery halo rose over the horizon. Temple District.

“Quick, you lazy bastards!”

Junnosuke threw himself heaving into a run, his lungs burning as if filled with charring coals.

'I sought the aid of my brethren about my predicament. I believe certain herbs they gave me may help in overcoming it. I also pray to Hujokuko-kami much these days. The change of air did well to my overall condition. I think we may be hopeful.'

They met the first resistance just past the Downhill, but it was weak. The looters dispersed almost as soon as Junnosuke and his men appeared. But the many rooftops of Temple of Daikoku were already painted orange by the glow of nearby fires.

“They scum knows no sanctity!”, one of his men shouted in anger.

Junnosuke’s mind got occupied by finding a fitting quotation from 'Lies' to comment on the scum knowing no sanctity, but he could not point it down. His thoughts were in greater disarray that he was ready to admit. This disarray had a name.

Fear.

When he arrived, the tides had already shifted. Thunder Guard broke the mob down into pieces and was putting down one batch at a time. It did not change the fact that this far-reaching outbreak of violence ought not to have occurred. On his way through the district, dispatching scavengers, he heard many words of outrage, but they slipped down on his trained indifference, strengthened by his inward worries. Until they didn't.

“Heard what happened at the Shrine to Hujokuko?”

“Unspeakable. How dared they?! And the little girls?!”

He did not remember the way there, but once he arrived, he met his magistrate, standing at the entry to the building. Atypically, the man hesitated to face him, but eventually did.

“You should consider the matter well before entering, Junnosuke-san.”

Life drained from the yoriki’s face.

“My... lord!”, he hissed through clenched teeth, his hands opening and closing randomly. He stepped forward and pierced his superior with a gaze of desperate man. This moment, he was like the mother of hungry children he had killed, or the violent scavenger mob that plundered the temples. He recognised no authority and knew no sanctity. Nothing had any value.

“Then I command you not to...”

The magistrate calculated the consequences of killing his most trusted yoriki now, and decided to stay his blade. He stepped aside.

“...tarry. Do what you must in there and report back for duty.”

When Junnosuke entered, his commander closed the door behind him and gestured for two of his men to take guard.

“Send for the eta and a Soshi shugenja. Three to four samurai funerals, depending on whether he decides to stay there with his family.”

Spring

It was past the Hour of Ox when he entered the warehouse alone, leaving support outside. He had done it often lately, as he could not stand much company, even at work. The stolen merchandise was there, and so were the perpetrators. Firemen profiteers, as he had expected. They were surprised when he appeared, mostly defenceless. Some turned themselves in, some tried to escape. He did not care for their fate much, same as for all other things in this world.

And then he noticed a snowflake netsuke wrapped around the wrist of one of them. Some of its delicate arms were absent.

When he left the building, injured, with frenzied eyes and all his kimono soaked with blood as if he had just committed a gruesome maho ritual, it rose more than a few brows and led more than a few hands to the hilts.

“I met resistance while reclaiming property.”, Karoshi commented curtly. He simply gestured to the gore he had left behind, and walked away, swaying. A shard of snowflake netsuke may have rested on his heart, but the heart itself was perfectly hollowed out, now even of vengeance.

Summer

Amid dragon's breath
I dare not face who I am
Shade into shadow

Autumn

“I dismiss you from service.”

“Shall I petition for three cuts now that I am not needed?”

“Oh you are needed. You will be transferred to the Thunder Guard. They need a reliable quartermaster. I recommended you.”

“I am... grateful, my lord.”

“I know you are not, but we both understand why this is necessary.”

“Indeed we do.”

Winter

He had never seen that Moto before, but he recognised the type the moment he entered his tent. He had seen enough people of this susceptibility not to mistake the signs. He had chosen his strategy well.

“Soshi Junnosuke, I presume?”

The accent was strong.

“Soshi Karoshi, Moto-sama. Soshi Junnosuke is dead.”

“Ah, a man with a past! Death of overwork? Strange alias! Interesting, interesting. So you want to serve the Shogun in the Legions, eh?”

Karoshi nodded.

“I have your recommendations right here. They are informative in both what they do and do not tell. I think I may be forced to turn your application down. You are too old, too sickly, too shady and too dejected to be of decent use in the military.”

“And yet I have my uses.”

“Now you have me curious.”

“I know what people want and how to provide it.”

“Oh-oh, bold claim.”

“Let me prove it.”

“Show me your trick then.”

Although the man’s attitude sickened him, he simply nodded. He produced a purse ringing with coin strings and put it right before the recruiting officer. The Moto stared sternly at the sum that amounted for the worth of all material possessions Karoshi had accumulated throughout his life, now turned into koku. The corrupt Moto finally grinned, and reached inside, taking out one holed coin. He tossed it back to Karoshi.

“Take this one, and buy yourself a thick winter coat. You’ll need it where I am sending you.”