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Hope in the Hollows
Chapter 8: Travel in your Future
-Respectively,
Okina”
Aoshi stared at the paper, reading it over once more. He had been concerned about how Hannya would be received at the Aoiya but he hadn’t for a moment thought of a rival clan interfering. They had enough trouble with the government, he didn’t need anymore interlopers.
With a sigh, he stood. Hannya was unavailable, Hyokkotto lacked the finesse and Shikijou liked to resolve things with his fists when the other party became difficult. Beshimi then was the best choice.
He paid no mind to the noise about him in the crowded tavern. His tea had turned cold but he still reached for it. Shikijou was late and he hoped that did not indicate another problem with the mission which had been, on the whole, fairly simple. Aoshi wanted information on the current whereabouts of TsukiokaKatsuhiro. The subject was nineteen years of age and a former contact of the Oniwabanshuu troop near Tokyo.
Ten and a half months previous, Okina had given his permission for the Tokyo group to assist Tsukioka in a project that had been described as, “data extraction from the 44 West Haven”, a space that was currently on loan to a western diplomat visiting the country.
Too late was Okina informed of the purpose, motive, and operational tactics of Tsukioka’s group. In the stillness of one evening, 44 West Haven became a charred square of debris as explosives lit the sky and smoke choked the would-be rescuers that ran to the scene.
Tsukioka’s group sustained no casualties, but 4 Oniwaanshuu had died in the effort. Government troops had swooped down on the scene and 8 persons were rounded up, not including the dead.
There was nothing left of the building, all within had died, including the foreign visitors. Outrage erupted overnight as the local officials “ousted” the Tsukioka group and the Oniwabanshuu to the general public, issuing edicts for their immediate arrest. They were all wanted fugitives.
"Why is your leader offering?" Beshimi asked, standing back a pace with his arms crossed.
The ninja across from him, dressed in blacks and grays with his face covered, stood the same way. There was an uneasy tension between them, an edgy, temporary truce.
Beshimi had come on orders from Aoshi-sama. It had been a mad rush getting everyone into place and settling the rabid speculation among their group. It was different with Hannya gone. Hannya was a peacemaker, a logical thinker, and everyone looked to him especially during Aoshi-sama’s brooding silences which often left the others unsettled.
"She said that matter was between her and Makimachi-san and that it was no one else's business."
Beshimi nodded curtly. If he asked further it would be interfering in Aoshi-sama’s personal business as long as it involved Makimachi Misao. The stately name was well known among the secret groups of Japan.
"What does she want with Aoshi-sama?"
The Senada ninja was taller than Beshimi and thin. Bone thin... lithe, almost to the point of unhealthy. Beshimi found himself weary of the man, the tension between them was making his muscles ache from the stiffness of his own posture. The Senada Clan had never been superior to the Oniwabanshuu but since they had retreated to their mountain stronghold they had not been heard from. Who knew what they were doing on top that mountain? He couldn't see the man's face but he could all but feel the man's grin as it stretched upon his hidden lips.
"We currently have in our possession Tsukioka Katsuro. Our leader is willing to hand him over to you before she takes advantage of the reward being offered for him."
Tsukioka Katsuro?!
How had the Senada's gotten hold of him?!
"I shall tell him directly,” Beshimi replied.
They shared a curt nod.
"Here." The Senada withdrew a small white folded paper. “This is for Shinomori, his direct invitation to the Tower. It expires in one month." The man tossed the envelope at Beshimi’s feet and stepped backward. "She'll be waiting for a response. There is a pigeon handler in Tokyo by the name of Koro, he's next to the wood block stand on the edge of the food market." In a silent leap upward, the ninja vanished with barely a rustle of foliage in his parting.
Beshimi reached for the envelope and tucked it into his garment. The anxious feeling he'd had when he arrived didn't dissipate as the other man left. One month only... Beshimi quickly fled. He had to notify Aoshi-sama at once.
“I’m sorry about yesterday and stuff, well more than yesterday. I’m sorry I’ve been acting like… well, I’m sorry I called you an ugly monkey and that I’ve been disrespectful. I wasn’t thinking.”
Hannya turned his eyes up to the girl through his mask. She was still fidgeting, swaying and shifting on her feet. She cast her eyes up at the ceiling and then back at him as though unsure where she should stare.
“You’ve had a change of heart then?” he prompted. “What brought that about?”
“Okon and I were talking. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking about all the stuff you knew that you could teach me. The others, you know, they’ve been at the Aoiya for a long time. They don’t really have all that much outside experience. Plus, I know I’m a difficult person to handle, most people really don’t have that kind of patience and I talk when I shouldn’t talk and when I get aggravated I say stuff I don’t mean at all and I’m sorry because of that, too.”
He nodded solemnly. “You’ve decided to amend your attitude then?”
“Yeah,” she nodded earnestly.
He stood in one slow, languid movement and began to walk away. “I see, very well then. Let’s test your newfound respect.”
She scrambled to follow him. His footsteps, she noted, were larger and longer than her own. In the courtyard just outside the backdoors he was waiting for her. His white mask was shiny in the bright sun and the demon teeth glinted.
“Show me you’ve been practicing.”
She spread her knees shoulder length apart to steady her body and went through the movements of the kata.
He watched her critically but she was denied an expression by his mask. She was forced to wait for his words or to watch his body for signs of his impression. He, however, remained standing perfectly still the whole time, his arms crossed.
“Notable,” he acknowledged. “We will move on then.”
“Tsukioka was found injured at a soumen stand near Nara. I have decided to offer him to you.
“I will host you and your followers at the Tower for a duration to be determined upon your acceptance. A response is required to this missive.
“Should you accept, I would be honored if you bring Makimachi with you.
- Senada Misanagi”
Several long moments of silence followed the reading. Beshimi had given him a brief relaying the conversation and the letter and quickly scampered away. Aoshi stared.
He had not thought much on the relationship between Misao and Misanagi. In fact, he’d forgotten all about it. He had thought it ancient history. The Oniwabanshuu and the Senada had once been allied many years ago but since the death of both of Misao’s parents that alliance had died an uneasy death.
All those years ago… what did Misao know about her family?
He sighed softly and quickly made for the table where his writing materials were laid out. He’d been penning correspondence all morning.
“Senada,
“I shall leave two days from today from Tokyo and arrive as soon as possible. Misao is currently unavailable.
-Shinomori.”
He would not ask Misao to come. He was not aware that she even knew of her relations to the Senada Clan of ninjas nor was he about to enlighten her. Should she find herself anymore disenchanted with him than presently he didn’t want her seeking solace with another group. He wanted to be all she had; he was not going to be providing escape options for her.
He wondered absently what she’d done with the ring and how she was doing with Hannya. Or perhaps more accurately, how was Hannya coping with her.
Standing, he took the note and headed out. The pigeon carrier was easy to find. The man was middle aged and skinny, squinting his eyes against the sun.
“Good day, sir. How can I help?”
Aoshi slipped the note from his pocket. “I have a message to deliver for Senada.”
The man’s smile thinned. “Ah, yes. Are you one of Shinomori’s?”
Aoshi nodded slightly, what the man didn’t know he wouldn’t tell him.
“I’ve a message for you, arrived this morning. ‘Be wary of Kyoto.’” The merchant’s face was impassive, but his voice grave.
Kyoto?
Aoshi handed over the note and watched the man attach the paper to the cylinder and send it off with the pigeon.
“Thank you,” Aoshi murmured before turning away.
The message’s eerie words echoed in his head. ‘Be wary of Kyoto.’
He would send a warning later.
sniff
She tested the air, did she smell smoke? There was a faint scent of it in the air, not strong… had something caught fire? Was the Aoiya on fire???
She shot from her bed and onto her feet. She pulled her kimono on clumsily, tying an awkward knot with the nearest length of material she could find. She dashed to her doorway and yanked it open. There was sound downstairs, sound that shouldn’t be… Voices.
“Here. This is definitely the place.”
“Search it!”
She was just about to step out and investigate when she was yanked backwards, inside her room and her door quickly shut in front of her.
A large, cold gloved hand was pressed over her mouth and she recognized the striped print on the arms. She didn’t struggle.
Hannya.
“Silence, Misao, there are intruders. Anything you want to take with you, grab it now, we are escaping.”
She whirled around to face him as he loosed his hold on her. “We can’t just leave! What about the others?” she whispered hastily.
“The Aoiya has been discovered as an Oniwabanshuu base, the government officers are downstairs now; we must go!”
“But-“
“NOW!” he hissed and she ran to her dresser and quickly ransacked through it. She could hear footsteps on the stairs. In the bottom drawer she spotted the tiny box containing her ring and she grabbed for it and a few other things. Unexpectedly, Hannya grabbed her and she was yanked out her window just before her door was thrown open. In the tree, high up, they hid.
Misao watched; Hannya’s gloved hand was again pressed over her mouth as if fearing she might scream out. She stayed very tense, her back pressed against Hannya as speculations bloomed in her mind. What was going on? Were they others safe? Had they escaped? They hadn’t really discussed an exit strategy should the building be discovered… or had the others?
Many long minutes later she saw the uniformed men appear out front. They were leaving and she saw Okina with them. He was led ahead of them, his hands bound. A prisoner. Tears bubbled in her eyes.
“Jiya,” she murmured into Hannya’s glove.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She could feel it in her throat, her feet, her wrists, she could feel it everywhere. Her temples pulsed painfully. The others were nowhere in sight, had they escaped? What about Okina? Misao, for not the first time, knew what it was like to be paralyzed with fear.
“Calm yourself. All will be well,” Hannya murmured softly to her. “In times such as these it is not uncommon for groups to split. The others will be fine. Ease yourself.”
She tried to nod, tried to concentrate but she didn’t like the strategy. She wanted everyone to be together. But logically, she understood. They had a greater chance of survival this way, a greater chance of freedom. With her safe, Hannya guided her down to the ground. They sneaked behind the shed where he produced a box and turned his back to her. She watched, baffled, as he pulled on a hat and other things, sliding a dusty brown yukata over his uniform. When he turned back, she was staring at a stranger’s face.
“Wow,” she breathed. “You’re really good.”
“There are still officers in the building and on the grounds, be silent,” he murmured. Taking her wrist, he sneaked her away.
Hours later, a pigeon arrived to find the Aoiya empty. The important missive attached to it leg, undeliverable. The message inside was far too late to save anyone.
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