The Hinomoto Rebellion (2 page)

The brunet sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I knew we didn’t have a chance at handling that but… I just want to get this over with.”

Roni finished pulling her purple tresses into two high pigtails, then threw her arms around the giant man’s waist. He seemed to melt as she said, “It’s okay, Kanjou! The important thing is that nobody got hurt!”

“Thanks, Roni,” he said with a warm smile, looking down at the girl that was nearly half his size.

 

“You think Fushicho will be okay?” 26 asked as she took a few steps forward.

 

Kanjou gazed down the hall for a moment, then looked back at 26. “Yeah, she just needs time to cool down. I’ll go talk to her in a bit.”

 

“You let them get away!?” The poshly decorated sitting room nearly shook with the voice of the enraged owner of the mansion. The lights were low, making the polished wood surfaces of the small tables scattered between the two couches and several armchairs that formed a circle around a cold fireplace. One of the guards was kneeling far from the fireplace while his boss stalked back and forth in front of him.

“Th-the-they u-u-used the cover of the trees, s-s-s-si-sir!” the kneeling captain of the guards stammered from his place on an expensive carpet, sweat rolling down his face as his employer towered over him. He was shaking, seemingly on the verge of tears in the presence of the enraged figure looming above him.

Yasakuto Ran, a Daimyo in the government of Hinomoto, glowered down at the terrified man, his brown eyes burning with rage. He was clad in a dark red dressing robe, a small glass full of ice and a brown colored liquor clutched in one hand. He wasn’t very tall or muscular, just a little over 1.5 meters and still with a hint of teenager gangliness to him despite that he was 30 years old. His dark brown hair was cropped close to his scalp in the back and longer on the top of his head. “How did they get through the perimeter defenses!? How did they even get close to my home!?” Yasakuto snarled.

“We’re.... we’re unsure s-sir! My m-men tell me that... that one of them had wings!” It was a feeble answer at best, but he would say just about anything to try to divert Yasakuto’s anger elsewhere.

The enraged daimyo raised a hand, causing the captain to throw up his arms and fall back on the floor, cringing and whimpering like a beaten dog. Yasakuto glared at him for a moment, then lowered his hand. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he said, the ice in his voice freezing the captain to the bone.

“Yes sir!” he blurted, clambering to his feet. He bowed quickly, despite that the Daimyo was already turning away from him, and then rushed out the door.

As Yasakuto turned, a figure stepped out of the dark corner behind him. “Sir, do you really think they can find them?” The man looked to be in his early twenties. His left eye was a piercing green, but the right side of his face was covered by his jet black hair. He wore a denim jacket with a plain white t-shirt underneath it, tucked in to blue jeans. In regards to height, he was the same as Yasakuto, but his shoulders were broader and his face much more chiseled and angular. Under the denim of his jeans were the muscles of someone with athletic ability, and they showed with every step he took. He regarded Yasakuto with a serious expression.

Yasakuto turned to the dark-haired man and smiled. “Of course not. But he’ll be sure to never make a mistake again, won’t he? Besides, he’s still of use to me,” he smirked, “I’m sending you to find them. Simple thieves do not come across the front lawn, or have wings, for that matter. I want to know who they are and what they’re up to. Go after them, Ryoku.”

Ryoku bowed. “Yes sir,” he said before turning toward an open window. The Daimyo walked toward the exit to the room. From behind him there was a noise like the fluttering of two huge wings, and then Ryoku was gone.

It was just before dawn when Roni awoke. She waited a moment, allowing her violet eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room before sitting up on her futon. The room she was in was small, but it was hers. The window out to the forest didn’t have any glass in it, which made sleeping hard some nights because of the noise of crickets from outside. The roof didn’t leak here though, and the sliding door to the hallway had most of its paper panels intact.

“I’m thirsty,” she whispered to herself as she slipped out from under her light cover. She padded down the hallway toward the dining hall, her bare feet silent except for the creaking of floorboards. The dim light of a world awaiting the dawn barely lighted her way, but she knew the simple halls of the temple well.

Roni turned right, heading up the hallway that led to both the front entrance and the dining hall. At the opposite end of the hall, golden light was spilling out from the dining area, making a golden patch on the floor and opposite wall. Roni quickened her pace a, peeking around the corner before entering.

Kanjou, wearing only jeans and a headband, knelt at a low table that stretched the length of the long hall. At one time 50 monks could have eaten at the table comfortably, and the wood would have shone and glistened in the sun. Now the table, just like the rest of the temple, was broken and in need of repair. It sloped to one side and was wobbly, the top was marred with scratches and dust, except for where the small group had cleaned off one end to eat on. On the walls were more faded tapestries and plaques with the names of monks that had once lived here on them. The group had been saying since they’d arrived in Shibasaki a few days ago that they were going to do some maintenance around the temple, but hadn’t gotten around to it. The rickety table was first on the list of things to fix.

In front of Kanjou was a pile of paper and blueprints. His eyes were humorless as they traced slowly over the sheets of careful plans written in neat handwriting. His hands clutched the edge of the table as though he were barely keeping himself from ripping up the pages. Roni stepped into the room and cleared her throat, causing Kanjou to jump and turn.

His face softened as he saw her standing there. “Hey,” he cooed, “What are you doing up?”

 

Roni scuffed a toe across the smooth floorboards. “I was thirsty.” she said, “Are you okay?”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he started to clear the papers from the table. “I was just reviewing a few things.”

 

“You were trying to figure out what went wrong, weren’t you?” said Roni, a mischievous grin across her face.

Kanjou sighed, admitting defeat. “Yeah, I was.” he muttered. “We were right there! A year of work that could have been over with, and we screwed it up!” With an angry shove, he pushed the papers away from him and slammed an elbow down on the table, resting his chin in his hand.

Roni walked forward and knelt next to him. “It’s not your fault, Kanjou. We just need,” she paused, thinking for a moment, “more members! We need someone who’s really strong and knows a lot about Martial arts! Maybe even someone that uses a lot of ki attacks! We haven’t had somebody new join us in a long time, Kanjou! Maybe we should go recruit!” she looked up at him expectantly.

Kanjou looked over at her and smiled. Her excitement was infectious sometimes, and whenever she spoke about their mission she glowed with exhilaration. He grinned. “Alright. We’ll start tonight, the two of us, okay?”

Roni answered him with an enthusiastic nod. “Come on, let’s start getting the kitchen ready for 26 to cook!” Roni said, leaping to her feet. Kanjou followed suit, the botched mission forgotten for now.

Chapter One
Change

“Daimyo Yasakuto was unavailable for comment, but the head of his security force tells us that they still have no leads on the intruders from two nights ago. It is suspected that a group of
ochiudo
led the attempted-”

“Geeze, Tony, turn that crap off!”

An American man with light brown hair that was turning gray and pale eyes poked his head around the corner of a cement wall, a look of impatience falling on the girl who had yelled at him. “Why?” he asked simply. His voice echoed slightly off the concrete walls, floor, and ceiling that made up the space where they lived. It wasn’t large, and there were no windows or decorations on the walls, but they had everything they needed in the three small rooms. The central room was the largest one, and was thinly illuminated with a few bare bulb in metal caging overhead. A few bits of martial arts training equipment were scattered around, everything from training mats to targets to boxing gloves that were all in various states of falling apart. There was also a small plastic table with two chairs at one end of the room. The other two rooms were where Tony and the woman he thought of as his daughter slept, though his room also doubled as a kitchen with the addition of a small refrigerator and a camping stove that ran on gas.

Cold blue eyes glared back at him from under long silver bangs. A lithe young woman– at least 25 years younger than him– was moving fluidly through some forms on a beat-up exercise mat that had stuffing poking out of its burst seams. “You know I hate it when they use that word!” she growled, throwing a punch at the air before turning and working her way through another form.

“I hate to tell you this, but that is what they regard you as. Sure, it may have referred to a samurai that became a criminal at one point, but that meaning has changed now to just mean the martial artists. Besides, the story’s about ‘everyone’s favorite Daimyo’– I thought you’d be interested,” Tony said, smirking before pulling his head back into the other room and turning down the radio, which had gone on to another news story. He grabbed a towel and used it as insulation around the hot handle of an iron skillet sitting on a small camping stove. Four eggs were sizzling inside the pan.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like that damn word! And I don’t care about that stupid guy!” the girl shouted back at him. Tony heard her foot come down hard on the mat. Even though he couldn’t see her, he could picture her clearly. No doubt with her hands up in a defensive stance, glaring at the doorway that she knew he’d be coming out of any second, her warm-ups forgotten. He smiled at the thought.

He scooped two eggs each onto two worn plates and put the pan down, grabbing the plates and taking them into the other room. Sure enough, there she was, scowling at him. He chuckled. “Alright, alright,” he said as he set the plates down on the small table. “Come have some breakfast.” he said, trying to soothe her.

The girl stepped off the mat, her bare feet visible from under the hems of her loose white pants. She straightened the blue obi tied around her waist and brushed a bit of dirt off her white and blue tank top before she came to the table.

The two ate their eggs with minimal conversation. It was Tony who did the talking, chattering along warmly as the girl with the silver hair slowly ate. They had risen a little later than normal today, and had to hurry to get ready.

“Who are you fighting tonight?” Tony asked after the girl had finished her eggs. He was beginning to clear the plates as she answered.

“Who knows? Probably Foxfire.”
Tony smiled. “Well, good to see he made it that far this week.”

The girl smirked. “He won’t make it past me.” she declared confidently.