Fireworks, Candy Apples, Fox Masks, and Human-Slaying (5)
Generally speaking, the one who rules a country is a king or emperor. But there are quite a few nations where that's not the case. When the king is merely a symbolic figure and the real government operates separately, Japan falls into that category.
Japan had been ruled by the samurai class for about a thousand years. Thus, the true supreme authority was the shogun. The real government was the shogunate. The king and nobles were formally of higher status than the samurai, but they held almost no real power.
"...And so, to overthrow the traitorous shogunate and restore His Majesty the Emperor—that is the righteous path."
Takechi Zuizan, the leader of the Tosa Kinnoto party. He used this as his justification to attack the shogunate.
"The incompetent shogunate is poisoning the land. We must topple it swiftly and let His Majesty and the nobles govern the realm."
"Quite right, quite right."
"Well said, indeed."
The nobles nodded enthusiastically at Zuizan's logic.
"As expected of Lord Takechi. You're a samurai who's truly awakened."
To politically pressure the shogunate, Zuizan had rallied the emperor and nobles to his side. This secret meeting with the nobles was part of that scheme.
"Once the shogunate falls and the court resumes governing, all you esteemed lords here will surely claim your rightful positions."
"Haha, that's only natural."
Zuizan waited silently until the nobles' excitement died down.
"...Which is why I humbly ask this of you."
Zuizan opened politely.
"When the shogun visits the court, I beseech you to rebuke the shogunate's reckless ways during the meeting."
The shogun would soon head to Kyoto. With the nation's fate hanging in the balance, he intended to discuss the situation in the capital. Zuizan wanted the nobles to criticize the shogunate there.
"...Hmm."
"Well, that's..."
The nobles, who had been chuckling heartily, sobered in an instant.
"Publicly criticizing the shogunate is still premature."
"One wrong word, and we'll fall out of favor with the shogun..."
"...Embarrassing as it is, I'm no good with words."
"Ahem..."
The nobles fidgeted with their teacups, gazing off at distant mountains.
Zuizan watched them in silence, then pulled a pocket watch from his bosom. It was something he'd bought from a British merchant in Nagasaki.
"I expected as much."
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The sound of gears meshing.
"One can't expect proper political acumen from nobles who've done nothing but idle and feast for a millennium."
Silence fell. The flustered nobles exchanged uneasy glances.
"...Now, see here. That's going too far."
"Insolent, Takechi."
"A lowborn samurai like you, getting above yourself just because we associate—gurk?"
A teacup slipped from a hand. The nobles stared blankly into space, bodies stiffening rigidly.
Zuizan's cold eyes observed them.
Within margin of error.
The nobles collapsed one by one, convulsing. Their limbs curled, foam bubbling from their mouths.
He waited until their movements ceased completely, then pried open each eye. No flicker in the pupils.
They were done. Utterly useless.
With an expressionless face, Zuizan stepped out of the teahouse. A servant's scream echoed from afar.
The nobles poisoned each other in a power struggle and met their mutual doom.
That would be the conclusion.
Zuizan checked his pocket watch. 5 p.m. Time to meet Okada Izo.
✿
"That lil' one, just a tad more pushin' and she'll come 'round, ya reckon!"
Izo was excited.
"Lordy, the killin' intent pourin' off that tiny thing—scarier than a demon's. If we could just recruit her, she'd be worth a dozen men..."
Zuizan stared at him wordlessly. Izo trailed off, gauging the mood.
"Yes. She does seem like she'd be useful."
Zuizan's single remark lit up Izo's face.
"R-right? I got an eye for folks..."
"But Izo. Do you perhaps harbor feelings for her?"
Izo's grin froze solid.
"Naw, what? Don't be ridiculous. Ain't no way."
He forced his lips into a smirk.
"Ain't mute for nothin', mouth shut tight as a clam, but inhales food like a beast, then drools it all over the place..."
"You always look so delighted whenever you talk about her."
Izo's breath caught.
Me? No way.
"...W-well, that's just 'cause her mug's funny-lookin'..."
Silence stretched.
"An assassin must be colder than ice. Unnecessary attachments will only dull your blade."
"......"
"Of course, you'll handle it wisely, Izo."
"Y-yes? Yes sir!"
Izo bowed his head, stealing a glance at Zuizan's face. His mouth was shut tight as ever, his gaze looking down just as before.
Izo squeezed his eyes shut.
"S-soon enough, I'll bring the newbie to pay respects. And snag that white-haired weirdo's head while I'm at it."
So please. Those eyes of yours.
"As expected of heaven's slayer, Okada Izo."
Zuizan spoke softly.
"I know your judgment well. A woman in a fox mask—I'll look forward to it."
Izo hesitantly raised his head. Zuizan gazed back with a kindly smile.
Izo beamed, leaping to his feet. He boasted a few more times before hurrying out.
Zuizan remained alone in the room.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
6 p.m. The moment the hands pointed to the next number.
The masked assassin slipped the door open.
Zuizan pondered. He reached a conclusion.
"Kill the woman in the fox mask."
✿
She was lost. For the fourth time already.
Is it really yokai at work?
Si-ho stood blankly, scanning her surroundings.
"Hey there. It's me."
He appeared right on cue. The sly-grinning man with his distinctive dialect. Every festival night, he sought out Si-ho and dragged her around everywhere.
Izuki had worried at first. But she always returned with a healthy glow and a full belly, so he'd thought, Master's made a new friend—and actually been pleased.
"Uh, yeah."
But today, this sly guy's complexion looked downright poor. His steps dragged. His shoulders slumped. And he was stingy with the spending.
Si-ho could tolerate the rest, but not that last bit. She flailed her arms.
"Wha—? What's that mean?"
Si-ho patted her chest. Then pointed at herself with her thumb.
Exactly.
Izo, who'd been utterly deflated, furrowed his brow.
"What? What? Somethin' botherin' ya? Spill it to ol' me. That the gist?"
Si-ho nodded vigorously.
Something she'd never do—could never do—in her normal state. But the festival mask had taught her something.
This mask boosts my confidence!
Like how masks during COVID made you feel bolder. This covered her whole face, so the effect was tenfold.
A whole new Si-ho persona. Number two.
"Lordy, a mute wantin' therapy from me? Tiny thing makin' a fuss."
Izo scoffed and turned away dismissively. But Si-ho gazed up at him steadily.
"What. Why."
Steadily.
"Again with the weirdness. Geez."
Izo recoiled.
Did I really look happy talkin' about this nutjob?
Recalling Zuizan's gaze from earlier made his chest tighten again. Stifling.
...Fine. She's a mute anyway. Whatever I say don't matter.
This fox girl always just listened quietly. With that thought, his breathing eased a bit.
"Y'see, there's this benefactor o' mine. Like a father figure, y'know? Kinda... that thing."
Izo fumbled, then finally opened up.
"I've been good at swordplay since I was a kid. Nothin' else."
Normally, sword talent gets you adopted into a famous school like Izuki or made an instructor.
But Izo's gift was for assassination swordplay, not duels—sneaky, cowardly ambush techniques. No tournaments or fights welcomed him.
His brains weren't up to scholarship. Arts like poetry, song, crafts, calligraphy? Pathetic.
A worthless, useless wretch.
Then Takechi Zuizan appeared.
Chaos is coming again. Your talents will shine then.
Zuizan tasked Izo as the Tosa Kinnoto's assassin. His innate killer instincts bloomed.
For the first time, he had purpose.
"So my slicin'—gotta be the absolute best at that. Otherwise, no reason for me to be breathin'."
Zuizan always said it. A life's worth is determined by utility. The useless have no right to live.
Born a low-rank samurai, Zuizan slaughtered inept high-rankers to become Tosa's power broker. Skilled in every way—martial, scholarly, artistic, political. That's why he should topple the shogunate and rule.
"......"
Si-ho listened quietly. Izo had skirted the assassination details, but she sensed it vaguely.
...A life's value?
That worry felt like the swamp of thoughts she'd wallowed in during her year as a shut-in, repeating endlessly.
So Si-ho got angry.
Life and death aren't decided that way.
Drowning in the pool of blood from her own heart, she'd felt it desperately.
That's not how it works.
A blade tip appeared before her eyes.
Swish.
Si-ho's fingers brushed the hilt leisurely. She'd smelled the blood already.
——BOOM!!
A satisfying explosion rocked her eardrums after so long. Direct head hit. Scorched stump reeked of grilling meat, severed vertebrae dangling.
The headless assassin crumpled, twitching in death throes.
Si-ho's glowing red blade shattered with a clang-clang-clang.
Whoops.
Overdid the power. Last time it was the hand, less recoil maybe?
"Kyaaaaah!!"
Pedestrians' screams pierced the air.
Interesting.
Before, this sound alone turned her stomach. One mask, and it's better. Like hiding in her room—feels like she's behind the mask. Third-person vibe?
"What the—some gutless bastard."
Izo whipped out his sword fast. But Si-ho stayed calm. Blood scent said one assassin from the start.
Could be hiding in the crowd. But if attacking, they'd swarm together.
Not like movies or comics—nobody dumb enough to come one-by-one with numbers on their side.
The moment she thought that—a red blade flashed from the future.
"......?!"
Clang!!
Izo deflected it. His sword flowed like water, severing the assassin's wrist.
"A-aaagh."
The scream cut off mid-throat. Instead, scarlet blood gushed like a waterfall.
"Well now. Hidin' behind a mask. Who're your folks?"
The encircling assassins said nothing.
...No way.
A grim thought crossed Si-ho's mind. The assassins lurked without charging, biding time.
Do they know?
After one iaijutsu draw.
Her blade would shatter—that weakness.