SCI-FI FANTASY SATURDAY!
I will be posting a first draft of, hopefully, two chapters a week, and I will probably resume The Action Society posts next month. Enjoy and PLEASE comment.
YŌKAI
EPISODE
3: UNCLE
Hideki laughed
heartily, “Now tell me that ain’t some of the best booze you’ve ever had,
Takezou-san!”
“I
am not sure I want to taste it,” Takezou sniffed bowl of brown frothy liquid
with a grimace, “It smells like piss.”
“Oh
come on, Takezou!” Hideki chirped before draining another bowl.
Takezou,
Hideki and Hachiyama sat cross-legged, around a short round table, in the Red
Octopus’s restaurant. The table was littered with stacks of bowls, plates and
cups, mostly the result of Hachiyama and Hideki gorging themselves, on the coin
of the latter, with another seemingly endless feast of bad food and good drink.
Takezou had the pleasure of watching his two companions repeat the ritual
several times over the week that he had spent in town. The first couple of
times he had joined them in the revelry, listening as they told stories about
their youth; from stealing food off the plates of samurai to tricking other
shysters out of their ill-gotten money. He was not surprised to discover they
were both street urchins from a town near the Eight Mountains. He had even been
grateful for Hideki’s gracious generosity; the “Lucky Rabbit” going so far as
to provide them with a new fitting of clothes, a warm room at the inn, and even
taking them to a weapon smith to have their weapons repaired and getting a
custom fit of light, but effective armor for him to wear next to they ran into
trouble. Yet, a week of drinking, eating and playing games had started to wear
on his patience.
“What
is this foreign stuff called again, Hideki-kun?” Hachiyama asked as he slurped
down his bowl with expert gluttony.
“Beer,
all the way from beyond the Red Sea,” Hideki explained, “The drink of gaijin kings!”
“Foreigners drink this
stuff?” Hideki leered at the yellow-brown liquid.
“Mhm,”
Hideki rubbed his belly, “You can’t trust your eyes and nose with this stuff,
Takezou-san. Ya gotta trust your stomach. A stomach filled with beer leaves you
warm and happy.”
Takezou
took a sip of the drink and swallowed with a grimace. He set the bowl down and
took a swig from his wineskin of water, to rinse out his mouth, before spitting
down into an empty bowl with a clearing of his throat. He looked up from the
bowl to Hideki, “We need to find out something about that Sato Takeshi.”
“Sato
Takeshi?” Hideki looked confused.
“The
Rider in Black, Hideki-kun,” Hachiyama answered, as he set down an emptied
bowl.
“Right,
right, right,” Hideki mocked them, “Why do you need to find out about this
Rider in Black guy? He’s not your problem, right? You gave his boys a licking.
They won’t bother that village again for at least a season.”
“And
if he does bother them again, big deal!” He slammed down his empty bowl with a
sigh, “Rural folk like that are what’s wrong with the Empire; too coward and
weak. They’re all depended on local samurai for help. It’s against nature. You
gotta either learn how to fight or learn how to flee. Living like they do, like
shepherd-less sheep being harassed by wolves, that ain’t the way to live;
better to be free or dead than live like that!”
Hachiyama
frowned at Hideki’s rant, “Little brother, there is a third option, right? You
can get someone else to fight for you?”
“Bah!”
Hideki clasped his right bicep with his left hand and made a fist, “People that
beg real men for help like that’re parasites.”
“And
I suppose being a cheating rat is so much better?” Hachiyama grumbled at the
red-headed drunk, “Using sorcery isn’t luck.”
“Don’t
call me that!” Hideki hissed, cheeks red and hair on end, “You know I hate
being call that.”
“And
calm down, alright,” Hideki poured Hachiyama another bowl of beer, “Drink up,
buddy.” As Hachiyama accepted another drink from their host, Takezou found his
patience was on the razor’s edge; sitting around like this was not getting him
anywhere. He reached over the table, grabbed Hideki by his collar, and pulled
him across the little table so they were face to face.
“Regardless
of what you think we gave the villagers are word,” Takezou glared right into
those shiny gold eyes, each pupil like a fat droplet of lamp oil, “Isn’t that
right, Hachiyama?”
“We
gave them our word, Hideki-kun,” Hachiyama sighed, “Rule six of the Code. Keep
all your promises and-“
“Break
no oaths,” Hideki sighed, as if he had heard that rule more than he cared to
hear it,
“Alright, alright. Look, if you would let go of me and compose
yourself, I can help you out. Okay, Takezou-san?”
Takezou
released Hideki, who sat back, closed his eyes, and pulled his smoking pipe
from where it was hooked over one of his rather prodigious ears. He snapped his
fingers and the pipe lit. He took a long draught of the pungent smoke before
peeking out from under his thick red eyebrows, “Now, you need information,
right?”
“Yes
for the fiftieth time, yes,” Takezou exclaimed.
“Well,
you need to find yourself the yakuza,”
Hideki explained, “Though that can be tricky. These guys don’t like to be
looked for, especially by outsiders. That and I ain’t exactly on friendly terms
with them.”
“As
they say about high-rollers; they end up rolled up in a quilt at the bottom of
the river,” Hideki tapped the side of his nose before continuing, “But I can
tell ya what to look for. Just don’t tell them I sent ya.”
“The best gang for
information is probably gonna be the gang that operates under the Red Dogs.” He
explained, “The Red Dogs are easy enough to find. You just look out for a bunch
of guys, loud and swaggering, dressed in all red, and probably got their hair
shaved into stupid looking mohawks.”
“Like
those guys, Hideki-kun? Hideki-kun?” When Hachiyama and Takezou looked back
from the crowd of swaggering guys in red, Hideki was gone, and all that was
left was a pile of his clothes. Takezou frowned and was about to inquire what
kind of sorcery was that when Hachiyama stood up and shouted, “Excuse me.”
The
four yakuza turned and stared at them for a moment. They were all fairly
greasy, with their hair shaved on the sides leaving a strip down the middle,
and each wearing red prominently in their clothes. They all had several scars
on their faces, the youngest one of them looked as if he had just gotten in a
fight with a fat knot on the side of his head, and the oldest looking fellow of
the bunch had red tattoos covering his forearms. The oldest one even had the
gall to carry a sword. Takezou looked up from the sword and into the eyes of
the oldest, standing up, placing his hand nonchalantly on the handle of his own
blade. The older yakuza seemed to recognize Takezou and spoke up, “What do you
want?”
“Information,”
Hachiyama said with a rather cold tone, “We need information.”
The
yakuza seemed to choose to ignore the giant, probably for fear of showing some
sign of being intimidated, so their leader instead continued to speak directly
to Takezou.
“You’re
the Black Sun swordsman, right?” He asked, “The one who cut down the Lord’s
son?”
Takezou’s
looked the man in the eyes and nodded, “Yes.”
The
three subordinates of the elder yakuza seemed to take a fuller notice and
respect for Takezou. The older yakuza smiled, “Pretty impressive. That kid was
a loud mouth. Good riddance,” He spat on the floor, and then gave a little nod
before introducing himself, “The name’s Red Gacha of the Red Dogs.”
Takezou
seemed a little off-put by the other’s casual approval of the Lord’s son but
decided to ignore it, “Nice to make your acquaintance, Gacha-san.”
“Just
call me Gacha,” He chuckled, “I don’t deserve none of that san-sama crap. Now,
how can we be of assistance, Mister Black Sun?”
Takezou
frowned before he explained, “As my companion, Hachiyama was saying, we need
information.”
“Oh
yeah? What kind of information? A pretty girl’s home address or the lineage of
some servant or something?” Gacha chuckled, “We got plenty of information like
that lying around but then again you could figure that out from looking at the
town register. What the hell kind of information would you need from us
low-lifes?”
“Information
about a low-life, Gacha-san,” Takezou stressed the last syllable to irritate
Gacha’s ear, “Information about a man by the name of Sato Takeshi. A bandit
camped out somewhere near the village of Asa-mura; about a week south of here.”
Gacha
whispered over his shoulder to his companions before looking back at Takezou
with a hungry smile, a single gold tooth gleaning from between his thin lips,
“I can say we’ve heard of the guy. Heck, and he ain’t no friend of ours, so it
is possible we’d be willing to barter his story, for a price.”
“How
much?” Takezou asked, without hesitation.
“Whoa!
Slow down A little hasty there, hm?” Gacha grinned, “What he do to get under
your skin? Kill your family? Steal your girl?”
“He
insulted my honor and he owes me his life,” Takezou answered matter-o-factly.
“So,
you two boys are engaged in the romance of the blades?” Gacha chuckled, “Can’t
blame ya. Real nasty piece of work, this guy is, I’d want his head on my mantle
if he crossed me.”
“Now,
about payment,” Gacha rubbed the knuckle of his left hand, where his pinky
finger was notably absent, “It’s question of how much but what. We ain’t so
much in the need of money as we are in the need of muscle.”
“We
are not thugs.” Hachiyama interjected.
“And
we ain’t about charity,” Gacha replied, looked up at Hacihyama, and then back
down at Takezou, “So, how about it Mr. Black Sun? You and your buddy want this
information, right? You scratch the Red Dog’s back and he barks.”
“What
would you need us to do?” Takezou asked, relaxing his posture, and sitting back
down.
Gacha
chuckled, and sat down at an empty, his men standing around the table, posing
in a way that they seemed to believe was impressive, as their boss explained,
“We got a problem in the Entertainment District. Ya see there have always been
two gangs in the District; us Red Dogs and the Blue Roosters.” He picked at his
nose with his ring finger before wiping it on his sleeve.
“Then,
about a year ago, the Yoshida goons show up and claim to be security. Our gangs
can’t even go to war without the Yoshida goons getting involved and arresting
half our boys. It’s a shame. They’ve taken half the fun out of being yakuza. We
used to rumble with the Roosters at least every other week, if it wasn’t
raining,” Gacha sighed nostalgically.
“But
that ain’t all. These Yoshida guys say that they’re guards but they’re worse
than the crooks they claim to be fightin’, see? They’ve taken control over half
the businesses and are buying us out. Heck, the only reason we still got the
Red Octopus is because Old Ma who owns the joint was the Chief’s second wife,
see?” Gacha took a sip from an unfinished glass left of the table before he
said, “We need you to put the fear in them. You’ve got clout and a name. We
just need ya to rough up some of their boys and let them know it’s on the, “He
paused, “What’s the word Chief said last night, Curly?”
The
young gang member spoke up, “Behest?”
“That’s
it! You just gotta let them Yoshida goons know you’re working on the behest of
the Red Dogs and for them to stay out of our turf. Ya think ya can handle
that?”
Takezou
sighed, “I suppose, but understand that this is just to get the information. We
are not muscle for hire.”
“Of
course, of course,” Gacha brushed off the allegation.
“And,”
Hachiyama seemed to step out of the periphery with surprising stealth for such a
big man, “if we get double crossed or if the information is no good, your boss
better have a hundred guys like you ready to back him up.” The giant made sure
to lift his hands and crack his fat knuckles, making a sound like the crushing
of iron.
“Alright,
alright, yeesh.” Gacha shook his head, “We get the picture. You’ll see. The
information is good.”
The
Red Dogs then took their leave. Hachiyama sat back down for a moment and
emptied Hideki’s bottle of beer. He took a long sigh and rubbed his belly, as
Takezou looked over at his companion, “You don’t think you went a little
overboard with your threats? Maybe you’ve had enough to drink.”
Hachiyama
exhaled, looking down at Takezou, his face a little ruddy, “Maybe, maybe.”
Takezou
looked over at the pile of clothes that Hideki had left sitting in the chair
next to Hachiyama, “Where you reckon the Lucky Rabbit got off to?”
They
heard a muffled sound from under the table, “Clothes, please?”
Hachiyama
reached down and slid the clothes down to a hand reaching out from under the
edge of the table. After a moment, Hideki climbed up with a sigh, “You didn’t
have to drink the rest of the beer, brother.”
“Sorry,
Hideki-kun,” Hachiyama shrugged.
“Where
did you just go?” Takezou asked, glaring at Hideki suspiciously, “And why did
you leave your clothes?”
“Ah,
right,” Hideki laughed, nervously, “Hachiyama didn’t tell ya about me being a
magician, then? I’m a master of parlor tricks and a part-time sorcerer.” He
explained, with a playful grin, as he told Takezou, “I saw those Red Dogs
walking over and, considering they don’t like my face, I decided to become
invisible and take my leave.”
“Why
did you leave your clothes behind, then?” Takezou inquired.
Hideki
chuckled, “Oh that?” He set his pipe back over the crook of his ear, “My
Invisibility trick ain’t exactly perfect. I can make myself invisible but not
my clothes. I wish I could show you some other time but,” He stood up, “It
sounds like you boys have a date with some Yoshida goons.”
“Oh
come on, Hideki-kun!” Hachiyama stood up, “You should help us out. You know
this city better than either of us.”
Takezou
stood up as well, glaring suspiciously at Hideki, “And I bet some of your
tricks could come in real handy.”
“Fellas,
please,” Hideki shook his head, “I’m clearly a lover, not a fighter. You two
should go ahead and make your way over to the docks. Yoshida has a bunch of
warehouses there, so all you gotta do is pick one and put the scare into them.
Should be easy, right? Then, you just come back here and you can make your way
back to Ata-mura with a cart full of rice.”
“Asa-mura,”
Takezou corrected.
Hideki
bowed, apologetically, “Right. Now, I’ll tell ya what,” He backed up toward the
door, “How about I go take my rich self and buy you guys a cart full of rice,
my treat. I’ll even pay for the ox. The cart’ll be waiting here when ya get
back.”
“Oh,
thank you, Hideki-kun,” Hachiyama grinned, “You’ve been so generous.”
“Don’t
mention it! That’s what friends are for! See you later.” And Hideki slipped out
of the door and out of ear shot. Takezou sighed, lead Hachiyama out, and toward
the exit of the Red Octopus. As they left the inn, Takezou gave his grinning
companion a couple of curious glances before, finally, asking him the question
tearing at his insides.
“Hachiyama-san,
why do you make that face?” Takezou asked.
Hachiyama
stopped and looked down at Takezou, “What face?”
“That
face!”Takezou groaned, “That dense, clueless, childish face. That big overly
satisfied and stupid grin.”
“Oh,”
Hachiyama just smiled wider, “This face?”
“Yes,
that face.” Takezou rubbed his chin, “You make it all the time.”
“Well,
I suppose I’ve used it as long as I can remember,” Hachiyama replied with a
shrug, “Do you really think it looks stupid?”
“Are
you serious?” Takezou allowed himself a little laugh, “You look like you are constantly
in a dream-like state. Like one of those sweeping monks you see walking around
with a broom all the time.”
Hachiyama
just chuckled softly in his chest and sighed, “Hm, maybe you’ve got me there,”
Hachiyama flashed him a devious smirk, and repeated, “Maybe you’ve got me
there.”
Takezou
paused as he witnessed another one of those worrying moments he had experienced
with Hachiyama. That was a threatening smirk. It was a smirk that told the
swordsman that he shouldn’t concern himself with Hachiyama’s stupid smile. He
had experienced several moments like this since he started traveling with the
giant— moments where a dangerous fury, like the manic fury he exhibited in
battle, emerged but most of the time Hachiyama’s presence was more reassuring and
friendly than most people he had ever met. It was more than a little puzzling. A
scream broke his thoughts and he looked up from the ground.
Hachiyama
had guided their path down a back ally and he had stopped to watch a scene
unfold. Two men were dragging a girl out of an old shop. The men were dressed
in the same armor they had seen on the bushi at the gate. They were Yoshida
men. The girl was struggling as she was dragged barefoot into the alley and
screaming for help. Before Takezou could react, Hachiyama was already in the
path of the two men, and looming over them.
“What
the hell do you want, pal?” One of the club-wielding thugs asked Hachiyama, “Can’t
you see were in the middle of something here??”
“What
did the girl do?” Hachiyama asked, blocking their path with his expansive
frame, and stopping them in their tracks. The girl struggled, as one of the thugstried
to gag her, and the other kept his attention on their human obstacle.
“It
isn’t your business, fatso.” The guard sneered.
Hachiyama
placed his right foot back and reached for his club, but before he could swing
his tetsubo or the thugs noticed Hachiyama’s
hand on the grip, Takezou had stepped between the guard and his companion.
Takezou patted Hachiyama’s arm to make him lower his weapon before he did
something they might regret.
“Perhaps,
it is our business?” Takezou commented and the thug seemed to recognize him.
“Wait!
Aren’t you that Black Sun swordsmen?” The Yoshida thug asked with a tone of
fear in his throat.
“Yes,
the very same swordsmen.” He introduced himself with a small bow before
entreating the thug, “Now, my companion, had a question about what business you
had with this girl?”
“I,
well,” The guard stammered before getting a grip on himself, “This girl owes a
debt to Lord Yoshida and we’re here to make sure she pays it.”
“Lord
Yoshida?” Takezou raised a brow, surprised by that level of reverence they used
to when mentioning their boss before asking, “And how does Lord Yoshida plan to
have this debt paid?”
“Look
at her,” the other guard pushed the girl forward so Takezou could get a better
look at her, “She’s a doll. We’re gonna put her to work in the brothel. A
pretty, young whore like this will make us a fortune back in a year. I can’t
wait to get a p-”
“No.”
Hachiyama interrupted the thug.
“What
business of this is yours?” The other thug demanded.
“She
is my niece,” Hachiyama said as matter of factly as if he had just stated that
the sky is above them.
The
two thugs and Takezou looked up at the giant as he made the ridiculous claim.
One the guards laughed nervously, “I don’t really see the resemblance?”
“Release
the girl,” Hachiyama demanded.
“Or
what?” The Yoshida thug sneered.
Takezou
let out a wince as he saw the thug fold in on himself like an accordion as he
was crushed by the devastating blow of Hachiyama’s tetsubo. He quickly rolled out of the way, as the other thug let
out a horrified scream, and scrambled back from his dead companion. Takezou
grabbed the girl and spun her out of the way into the shop she had been dragged
out of before Hachiyama turned his weapon raised to the other thug.
The
Yoshida thug screamed for help and begged for mercy. As his companions began
pouring into the alley, it was too late for him. Hachiyama had already swatted
him aside like an insect with his studded tetsubo
club. The other guards stood for a moment in horror as they looked at the devastated
bodies of their two comrades. As Hachiyama turned his drunken and furious gaze
toward the thugs entering the alley, they let out a battle cry, and charged him
with their spears.
Hachiyama
must have taken a half-dozen spears to his torso, arms and legs as they stuck
him with their weapons. Hachiyama staggered a few of them with a blow from his
weapon to the side of their ranks, but he was desperately wounded. As Hachiyama
stumbled and nearly fell to one knee, Takezou was upon the remaining thugs with
a fury of blows that fell silently on their stunned targets.
Takezou
stood over the last living guard, sword to his throat, and spoke softly, “Tell Lord Yoshida that the girl is with The
Black Sun swordsman and that he should keep his hands out of the Entertainment
District. Understand?”
The
thug nodded, trembling in mortal fear, as he was allowed to scramble to his
feet and escape the bloody scene of the alley. Takezou slid his sword back into
its sheath and turned to look at Hachiyama. The giant was breathing heavily,
leaning against the wall of the shop, as the girl watched them from the doorway
of her shop cautiously. Takezou moved to pull one of the spears from Hachiyama’s
leg, but the pain and loss of blood was too much. He watched Hachiyama collapse
to the ground and shouted to the girl, “Quick! Help me move him before those
guards return!”
Takezou
wasn’t sure how he and the girl moved Hachiyama, but they managed to drag him
down a couple of alleys and into the front door of some old woman’s hut. The
girl explained the woman was a doctor and would be able to help. As Takezou
stood there, panting and sweating from the physical effort of moving his
companion, he began to feel his sweat soak into his clothes— except it was more
than sweat. He looked down and saw a red stain slowly forming on his kimono around a puncture wound to his
ribs.
He
stumbled into Hachiyama’s body and collapsed to the floor. Everything went
black.
*
LATER THIS WEEK, THE SWORDSMAN'S APPRENTICE
