The Hinomoto Rebellion (29 page)

Aki was watching Andrea from the doorway, her arms across her chest and her bo propped against the wall. She had an amused expression on her face as Andrea leaped back to her original position on the mat, crouched low, and gave a hard slash through the air. Andrea was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down her face and arms. She glared at Aki, who was still smiling at her.

“What?” asked Andrea.

 

“Oh nothing. It just,” Aki grabbed her bo and starting walking away, “suits you.”

Andrea stood and sheathed the katana, shaking her head.
Everyone’s been acting so weird around here lately.
D had been hanging around her too much for her own comfort, she was finding Roni to be less annoying, and she hadn’t found a reason to scream at Kanjou since she’d come back. Had the world lost its mind, or was she losing hers?

“I don’t think I really want to know the answer to that,” she muttered.

Just then, Kanjou walked past the door wearing sunglasses and a button-down shirt. Andrea cocked an eyebrow. “Must be going to meet Daimyo Shinrai,” she said to herself before she unsheathed the katana again and went back to practicing.

Daimyo Shinrai adjusted his sunglasses as he leaned back on the bench. He was wearing jean shorts, sandals, and a brightly colored tropical printed shirt. It was an outfit he felt much more comfortable in than his usual suit and tie. He always looked forward to his Thursday meetings with Kanjou. They presented the opportunity for him to go out somewhere and really be who he was.

By now Kanjou was late, which concerned Shinrai a little. The tall brown-haired
ronin
was normally the first to arrive for their meetings. He wasn’t late enough to make Shinrai leave yet, though, so he stretched his legs out and took time to enjoy the sunshine.

Soon,
he told himself,
Hinomoto will be free from Yasakuto’s reign. Kunota will be free to make his own choices.
He grinned up at the sky as he pictured the look on Kunota’s face when he told him that he was rid of the threats and the blackmailing. Out of all the years Shinrai had known Kunota, he knew that there was no greater gift he could give him.

Shinrai continued staring up at the sky with a smile on his face for a few more minutes, enjoying the cool breeze and the rustling of the trees behind him.

“Shinrai,” a low, hoarse voice whispered behind him. The Daimyo turned. “You’re late, Kanjou,” he chided jokingly.

What felt like a ton of rocks hit Shinrai on the side of his head, sending him tumbling off the bench. The world spun, faded, then came back into focus as he realized that he was face-down on the path. Shinrai tried to fight back the pain that was exploding from behind his eyes, but he was having a hard time getting oriented.

A silent prayer started running through Shinrai’s head over and over again like a mantra as he struggled to get up. All he managed though was to roll over and blink. Something warm and sticky was beginning to coat his head and ooze into his left eye. The edges of his vision were dark and fuzzy as he watched a pair of shoes cross the grass toward him.

“So, you’re the contact for the little rebellion,” growled a voice. “For shame, Daimyo Shinrai. You threw your lot in with the
ochiudo
, and now you will die like one. My master will be pleased when I report your death to him.”

Shinrai tried to speak but he felt himself getting weaker, his vision failing. He managed to roll onto his back and look up, trying to see who was speaking. His attacker had the sun to their back and was nothing but a black mass without details. Shinrai realized suddenly that it wouldn’t have mattered if he had seen a face because he was going to die on his back, unable to do anything to protect himself.

The last thing that the Daimyo saw was his murderer raising what looked like a large spear, then hurtling it down at him. Pain engulfed him before it sent him down into a black abyss, and then he felt nothing.

Kanjou entered the park and walked down the dirt path toward the bench they had decided on last week. This was the last time they’d be meeting like this. In a few days either Hinomoto would be free, or they’d all be dead. Either way there would be no more skulking around, meeting in secret and talking of rebellions. After the press conference, there wouldn’t be another chance to get to Yasakuto.

Kanjou stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying not to think of what failure would mean. The government might ignore raids on warehouses and attempted break-ins of Daimyo’s residences, but it would not disregard a full-out assault. If they failed they would trigger the biggest and most catastrophic witch hunt in all of history, one that killed not only people, but culture, knowledge, and history.

I can’t let that happen. Failure isn’t an option. It doesn’t exist, not now.

Kanjou turned the corner and noticed that Shinrai wasn’t sitting on the bench. “Huh. That’s odd,” he said out loud. He walked closer, wondering what could have made Daimyo Shinrai arrive even later than he had.

Suddenly, Kanjou stopped. In the middle of the path was a pool of dark liquid. There were drag marks going from the puddle of blood to the grass next to the bench. Kanjou followed the trail with his eyes, his insides turning to ice as he did so. The dark smear stopped behind the bench, where a body lay.

“Daimyo Shinrai!” Kanjou shouted. He ran forward and leaped over the bench like a track runner, landing next to the body. “Daimyo Shinrai!” Kanjou shook him, then felt for a pulse.

The
ronin’s
green eyes widened. No pulse. No breath. Shinrai was dead. His face and shirt were covered in blood, his lifeless eyes staring up in fear and his mouth open in a silent scream.

“No... Shinrai...” Kanjou said. Then, the full truth hit Kanjou– it was their meeting that had killed Shinrai. The brunet jumped to his feet, ignoring the blood that was on his pants and shirt. His eyes were wide in fear as he tried to figure out what to do next.
This can only mean one thing... someone is on to us.

“HEY! You there! Freeze!”

Kanjou turned his head just enough to see two police officers coming down the path toward him, drawing their guns. He looked down at Shinrai and whispered, “I am so sorry, my friend.” Then he turned and ran as fast as he could into the trees.

Chapter Ten Loss

Shogun Kunota sat at his desk in his home office, pouring over a large, comb bound report. Behind him, the television was on showing a crime show where the fictional detectives were investigating murders. Kunota took his glasses off and put them on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The report was making his head hurt. He went back to reading for a few minutes, squinting his brown eyes at the small type and the charts on the pages.

Once it got to the point where he no longer knew what he was reading, he looked up toward the window beyond his desk. He stared for a moment, squinting, then grabbed his silver-rimmed glasses and put them back on.

Why are there police outside of my house?

Suddenly afraid, Shogun Kunota got up and headed for the door, shoving the maid away as she went to open it. “I’ve got it,” he exclaimed as he twisted the knob and jerked the door open to stare straight into the faces of two police officers. “Can I help you?”

“Shogun, sir. I’m afraid we have some bad news.” As though on cue, that a storm that had been gathering let loose with torrential rain and a rumble of thunder.

 

The temple was silent aside from the rain on the roof and the occasional dripping where the shower was finding its way inside. The Aka Ryuu knelt around the dining hall table, looking at Kanjou. Roni had a hand on his right arm and was staring at him, tears in her eyes.

The tall, brown-haired
ronin
was still covered in Shinrai’s blood and was staring down at his hands. The room was filled with tension and was quiet. Their only support was gone, murdered and left to rot on the ground as though he was inconsequential.

“So... I guess they know more than we think they do. Or at

least Shinrai was acting suspicious enough to make someone suspect,” said Andrea, talking more to herself than anyone else.

There was silence for a few more moments. After a bit, Kanjou put his hand to his forehead and sobbed. “If I had gotten there earlier...”

Aki slammed her hands down on the table. “Don’t talk like that, Kanjou!” she barked. Everyone looked at her as though she had just smacked them all. “You can’t beat yourself up for this! For all you know, if you had been there you would’ve been killed too!” She took a deep breath, then continued.

“Daimyo Shinrai wouldn’t have wanted us to give up if something happened to him. This whole thing is bigger than just us and Shinrai! This is about all the people who live in this country. This is about all the masses of citizens who can’t stand up for themselves. This is about all the
ronin
out there who risk their lives every single day to keep Martial Arts alive!

“How would everyone that has died to protect that knowledge react if we fell apart now? We owe it to Shinrai’s memory to keep going on!”

Kanjou gave a small smile to Aki. “Yeah. You’re right.” He reached up and pulled off his red headband, dropping it on the table. He ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to fall out of its spikes and into a shoulder-length mop that needed a brush. “You’re absolutely right. He would be disappointed if we quit now.”

“But now two of us are wanted,” Andrea had her head tilted toward the floor, her arms crossed over her chest, “which will make it harder to move around.” She glanced over at the others before standing up from the table and heading out into the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

Kanjou ran his fingers through his hair, making an attempt to flatten it out. Eventually, Fushicho grabbed the red headband from the table, got on her knees behind him, and pulled his hair back into a short ponytail. “There, all better. Now, why don’t you go get changed?”

He gave a small smile to Fushicho then nodded and got up.