Author's Note: People from Osaka have a stigmatism around them. They are to the Japanese what hillbillies (or possibly New Yorkers) are to Americans.

Book 2, Ch. 2

Several miles outside of Obihiro, the last remnants of countryside spread down towards the sea, the only other exit being the grand mountains which surrounded the city. High up in the hills above the valley lay various shacks and homesteads built and maintained by the poor farmers and workers that struggled in a time of war and hunger.

The Morning Prayer bell rang at the nearby monastery, waking by force of habit a young man of eighteen years who had lived all those long years fighting poverty, hunger, and a debilitating condition that caused him from time to time to cough up blood. But right now, those things didn't bother young Fe Ling Xuan, a teenager of Chinese/Japanese descent born on the continent but raised on the island. Waking up on his straw bed with the lucky sheep's wool he had been wrapped in since he was a baby draped over him, Felix stretched out his sore body as he seemed to be doing regularly these days. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he shivered a bit as he rose from the warm sheet to the cold shack. Grabbing a timber box from the nearby pile of twigs and tree bits, he struck a light on the almost dead fireplace and threw on some more timber to relight the now cool fire.

As the shack lit up, Felix noticed that the bed next to his was empty, and it was still in the same condition it was when he went to sleep. The rest of the shack was sparse, with nothing but a few of his mother's wacky inventions that could fit inside strewn around the floor, his own drawings placed neatly along the wall, and a few mementos of the old country and his father hidden under the woodpile, to ensure no one came in during the day and took them for a cheap fix.

Putting on his work clothes, which consisted of a single tan farmer's robe that covered his whole body, with nothing else on underneath except a single strap of undergarments so that he wouldn't seem too savage, Felix grabbed his tools and headed outside to the chicken coop. It wasn't even close to dawn yet; the sky was still completely black and the stars were still out. In the distance, the nearest house being a few miles away, a light appeared in the lamp outside, signifying that his neighbors were up and about as well. While the distance between them meant there would be little chance of help in case of an emergency, the distance from the main roads and remote locations of the shacks meant that very few non-locals ever came around, and anyone who did was treated with suspicion, so despite the simplicity of breaking into the shacks, their poverty and remoteness actually contributed to safety.

While feeding the few clucking chickens he had saved up for months to buy, Felix shivered a little bit. Despite his high tolerance to the elements, it was still winter. Felix was used to working outdoors and often worked shirtless when tending the wealthier tenants down the main road, another of his many side jobs to supplement his income from his main source at Mr. Ryogi's restaurant in town. He had a good physique, much to the farmers' chagrin and their daughters' delight, chiseled from years of odd jobs including farming, blacksmithing, and running errands when he was younger. The problem had been that as he got older, he had discovered he had some sort of inherent disease which the townspeople called "death cough." He would have fits of coughs so violent that he would cough blood. Heavy labor and running predicated the condition, so he could no longer work the jobs he used to or play with his old friends. But his family needed money, so Felix took any job he could get. But some new clothes might be nice…

After the chickens were fed and clucking happily, Felix turned towards the mountain path and ascended the steep, winding path, his breathing becoming more labored as he rose. Finally he reached a plateau where a single figure, draped with a worn blanket, sat sitting on the edge of the cliff peering into the sky. She was a middle-aged woman with brown hair and a weathered but tender face, still full of questions even with her dire situation.

As Felix approached, she turned and gave him a smile. There were deep bags under her eyes, and they looked red and strained.

"Mom, you can't keep staying out all night. Mr. Ryogi will have a fit if you come in late again." He stooped down and helped her up.

"I know." Her voice was tired. She had told Felix stories of how back in China people had paid her to look into the stars and see their future. Back then, she had devices, curved glass that allowed her to peak into the sky and look upon the other planets and constellations. Now, she had only her own eyes to look longingly towards the sky

"Sometimes I wish I could find someone who understands my passion. Not just the stars, Felix, but the way the whole world works, not between governments and people, but between animals and the world. For example Felix, have you ever wondered if light has a speed?"

"If it has a speed, how come we cannot see it?" Felix was interested in science as well, but not to the fanatical degree of his mother. His mind was grounded in realism, simply put, where the next meal and the next coin was coming from.

"It is moving far too fast for the human eye. If that was true, it would explain so…YAWNN….much."

Felix helped his mother back to the shack and into her cot.

"I'll ask the monks to wake you before the third bell."

It didn't really register. She was already asleep.

Making sure that the fire was good and warm, Felix stepped out towards his various jobs, ending at the restaurant in the middle of town.

Felix marched down to the beaten path towards town, tools strung over his back, whistling a song as he walked.

"Big King Crab has twenty-five legs,

crawling around the ground,

skritching, scratching all around,

pull one off, King Crab gets away,

now he only has twenty-four legs!

Big King Crab has twenty-four legs…"

The sun had risen and the townspeople were milling about for their respective jobs. The market was closed today, so there weren't many visitors passing through, and the restaurant was sparsely populated with a few old-timers wasting away the day and the local neighborhood goons in for their morning meals.

Felix brought six bowls of piping hot soup to the gang, balancing the bowls diligently on both arms and planting them in front of their buyers without losing a drop.

"Gentlemen, please enjoy your soup, and if you need anything else, just ask." Felix gave a polite bow.

The leader of the gang, a twenty-something ugly lunkhead with dirty hair who thought far too much of himself pulled a coin out of his pocket and flipped it to Felix.

"You're a good kid, Felix. Tell your mom I said hi."

Felix cracked a smile.

"I'd rather you not." he said sarcastically.

"HA!" laughed the gang leader. Anybody else had said that to him, he'd have cut off their hand. But this gang was regulars at the restaurant, they knew Felix, and Mr. Ryogi didn't care who came in, as long as they paid and didn't start fights. "Listen to him. I told you this kid's funny!" He slapped the gang leader next to him, causing that member to spit hot soup on the one across from him, causing him to leap out of his chair screaming, much to the delight of the gang leader.

Felix wandered to the backroom where Mr. Ryogi was arguing with the delivery man, who only had a single box of fish and even less chicken.

"This can't be it! I ordered five boxes. How am I supposed to stay in business? Sell hot water?"

"Times are tough, Mr. Ryogi." the delivery man sighed. "I got jumped by some hungry ronin down south. I almost didn't get out with anything."

"Fine," Mr. Ryogi slapped some money into the merchant's hand, "but either you get me the supplies I need or I'm switching to someone else."

"I'd like to see you try. Who else comes this far north? You got nobody!"

"Oh yeah? Give me a break, you Osaka! Don't come back till you got some balls!"

Mr. Ryogi slammed the back door, breaking the wooden supports. Staring at the single barrel of fish, he groaned.

"I don't want to admit it Felix," he said, looking straight at the barrel the whole time, "but he's right. Nobody else comes this far north."

"Ah, c'mon, Mr. Ryogi. You'll come up with something. You always do."

Mr. Ryogi tapped Felix on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Felix. You're a good boy. Your mother should be proud. Since we're on the topic of your mom, would she be interested…"

"Sorry, but she's not the marrying type."

Mr. Ryogi raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, I'm just throwing it out there. It'd be nice to have an extra hand in the kitchen, and I'm not that bad-looking. Plus, with all those attacks going on, it's not safe for a woman to live alone out there."

Recently, a string of violent crimes had been committed on visitors by an unknown source. Victims were beaten and robbed of everything, even their clothes. The town had confronted the local Yakuza, but their business was in the brothels on the other side of town, not petty robberies.

Felix changed the issue.

"Well you see, it's not you that's really the issue. There are men, then there are women…and then there's my mom."

"Yeah, she is a bit out there. But she's still a nice piece of work."

Felix rolled his eyes. "OKAY, I'm going to check the customers. Any specials today?"

"Yeah. My foot up the butt of anyone who orders chicken," Mr. Ryogi muttered.

"One swift kick in the pants. Got it boss."

"He he. You're not serious." Felix walked through the curtain to the tables. "No seriously, you're joking right." Mr. Ryogi turned back to the woks. "I never know if he's serious."

The entire gang was preoccupied with some amusement outside. Felix peered through the window to see a wild-haired twenty-something with a ragged arm-less vest over a dirty cloth shirt with sandals on his feet and a sword at his side dancing like a monkey.

"Oh no, Frugal's back."

Every couple of weeks, a wandering ronin came (what else) wandering through the town, stopping at various restaurants and stores to beg for money and food. His story was that he was the descendent of a mighty samurai family, Matsueri or the disgraced Ittos, who had fought many battles and duels and had never lost. However, the claim was damaged by the fact that he never had money and always lowered himself to doing parlor tricks or stupid acts for food. Though no one knew his real name, the Europeans had nicknamed him Frugal, whatever the heck that meant.

"C'mon guys," he whined, "gimme something. Some bread, anything. I'm starving."

"Not until you make monkey sounds. Dance monkey, dance!"

"Ooo ooo ooo…" Frugal made sounds lack-lustily, scratching his armpits and crouching low to the ground.

"Ah, boooo. This guy stinks." The gang members quit paying attention to Frugal, who stood out in the cold miserable, his tummy grumbling so loud that a nearby horse whinnied.

Felix shook his head and walked back to the kitchen. Mr. Ryogi was busy gutting the fish, and didn't see as Felix took a clump of cooked rice out of one of the pots and covered it with a little broth from the soup, as well as a little bamboo stalk of water.

"I'm going to step out back for a second, Mr. Ryogi."

"Fine."

Felix walked out the back where Frugal was in his usual position, legs flat on the ground, his back to the wall, looking like a refugee from a grief-stricken land. It was an act, Felix knew, but he had gotten used to it. It was like their unspoken exchange.

"Here." Felix handed Frugal the bowl and water. After opening his eyes, he quickly dove into the bowl, chowing down like a lion on a fresh kill.

"Don't eat so fast," Felix quipped, "if you're being truthful, your stomach is too small to take it all at once."

Frugal gave him a sore look and spoke through a full mouth.

"Wat ah yu, ma dogter?" He swallowed the entire bowl in one gulp. "BURP! Thanks, buddy. I'll pay you back when I get my fortune."

Felix rolled his eyes. Every time Frugal said he'd pay Felix back once his hair-brained schemes succeeded, and every time he'd be back at the restaurant for the free meal which Felix always gave him, much to Mr. Ryogi's disbelief.

"Where you off to now?" Felix said, humoring the 'samurai.'

"Okashima. Supposedly there's this legendary sword master exiled there by the Shogun himself. I'm going to learn from him, and then I'll come back and make my fortune. Fare thee well, my friend."

Like a rejuvenated beast, Frugal took off into the street, running smack dab into a water merchant's jars, smashing a couple off his cart.

"Hey, you're gonna pay for that!" screamed the merchant.

"Crap!" shouted Frugal, taking off into the other direction. Felix merely shook his head.

Heading back into the restaurant, Felix was surprised to find Mr. Ryogi peering into the customers' area. Felix walked behind him and looked into the room.

Three new customers had walked into the restaurant. One was a blond-haired boy in black traveling clothes that looked like they had been borrowed second-hand from a slovenly ninja. Another was a dark girl who wore several furs and looked like she could handle herself in a fist-fight. The final member was another girl, this one with fiery red hair, white clothe draped around her body, and an exquisite sword at her side that caught Felix's eye.

The gang members had also taken a liking to the group, or at least the two girls.

"Hey babe," the gang leader motioned to the red head, "why don't you lose the zero and come hang out with us?"

"Just ignore them," Kim said to Ron and Monique.

"How can I?" said Ron. "That guy's got a frigging unibrow!"

It was true. The gang leader had a massive, furry unibrow that stretched straight across his face above his eyes. Upon hearing Ron's little comment, the gang leader's left eye twitched.

"What did say, punk?" The gang members all got up and started moving towards the little group.

Felix jumped in between the approaching gang members and Kim's group, his arms outstretched to his side.

"Guys, you know the rules! No fights in the restaurant!"

The gang leader stared Felix right in the face. The unibrowed one reached for his knife.

Before anyone could act, the red-haired girl dove out of her seat and rolled towards Felix, knocking him over in the process. Thrusting her sheathed sword forward, she caught the gang leader directly under the chin, the tip of the covered blade pointed directly at his throat. The gang members all looked on at awe.

"Now," said Kim, "you were just leaving, right?"

The gang leader nodded his head. He and all his gang buddies then headed for the door. Before he left, the leader turned and looked at Ron.

"My facial hair is not stupid! It's masculine and dignified!"

"I'm sure your mom tells you that every day," Monique chimed in. Mortified, the members left with their heads hung low.

Kim relieved that another possibly bad situation was through; turned towards the boy she had accidentally knocked over.

"Sorry, about that…um, are you okay?"

The waiter was lying on the ground, his body twitching strangely. Gallons of blood poured out of his mouth and nose.

"Holy Crap, KP, you killed him!"

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" Kim paused and looked down at the rising pool of blood. A good two inches already covered the floor. The restaurant was almost starting to flood. "Why is there so much blood?"

"Can we get some fresh towels in here?" Monique shouted at the proprietor.

"Dear lord, it's everywhere!" Some of the other patrons were starting to climb up on the tables, which were about to turn into ships floating on a sea of red. A plant used for decoration floated past like a buoy.

"I don't know what's going on," shouted Kim, struggling to climb above the rising tide, "but I know we're going to get blamed for it!"

---

"…Amaterasu cried over the fallen body of her brother, and her tears became the rain which fell gently to the ground, the storms and winds subsiding at their master's passing. Amaterasu felt great sorrow for her actions, for she knew that though she needed to stop her brother, her example would cause her children to fight each other. That is why, whenever it rains, we say that Amaterasu is crying for her children, us."

Yami stroked Mimi's hair, the young child tucked tightly into her bed, her eyes drooping as she passed into sleep. In her short time at the Castle, Mimi had already taken a liking to Yami, and followed the older girl around incessantly. Madame Kifu didn't like the child's adoration, but it didn't affect Yami's chores, so she grudgingly allowed it.

"It rains a lot now, doesn't it Yami?" Mimi said, her words much older than her age. Mimi was the young daughter of the Lord, heir to the castle.

"Yes, it does, sweet pea. But it means the gods still watch over us."

"Even me?"

"Even you. Goodnight." Yami gave Mimi a little kiss on the forehead. The girl turned over and pulled the covers close. Yami exited the room quickly, sliding the door back into place.

Out in the hallway, Yami leaned heavily against the wall, her eyes closed tightly as the lessons of her masters drummed into her head.

What was she doing? Giving affection to the lord's daughter? Telling stories which she had been taught were stupid and unfitting for an assassin?

There were no gods watching over her, no mercy or salvation waiting for her at the end. Her god was the mission, her savior the knife, and no salvation except the endless darkness waiting for her at the end.

She reopened her eyes, this time focused and cold. The mission was the priority. Moving farther down the castle, she entered the corridor next to the target's room. From the various subtle hints she had sent him and the stares he had given her today, she had calculated that tonight would be the night to put their plan into motion. Walking slowly down the corridor, acting as if she was checking the night watch lamps, her work was rewarded when the minister's door slowly opened at the end of the corridor.

The minister himself stepped out, not in his expensive daily clothes but rather a furry night gown wrapped around him like a rug. He motioned to her to come, and she quickly obeyed. Bowing low in front of him, he gently grasped her chin and raised it to his head. She feigned surprise.

"You work very hard Yami, and do a very good job. I have watched you work and I must say I am very pleased at having the good fortune of you working in this castle."

"Thank you, my lord." A bow, respect given to a man who didn't deserve it. She knew exactly what was coming next. They were all the same.

"Now, I am a very rich and powerful man, but to gain those two I had to forgo…affection, from others. I am a somewhat lonely man." He caressed her shoulder, his eyes alive with carnal ideas.

"My lord!" She acted shocked, as if he was the one in control. The smell in the corridor started to change.

"There are… benefits. Things that I can get you that no other man in this castle can. I am also going up in this world, and it would be very wise if you were to come along."

She buried her face in the minister's chest, then after a mere second looked straight up into his eyes, an innocent, longing look that bordered on tears and desire.

"I am at my lord's command." Now it was the minister's turn to be surprised. Was it really this easy? A smell reached his nostrils, sickly sweet and poignant like the ground-up petals of a potent flower.

The intoxicating smell filled the air. The minister felt like he was drowning in it, yet instead of fear he was filled with ecstasy. All his dreams were coming true tonight, and this girl would be the final jewel in the crown.

He did not notice the slight gleam of cold steel hidden underneath the girl's dress as he dropped her clothes to the ground and laid her down upon his bed.

---

Outside the castle, hiding just at the edge of the forest, several figures quietly waited and shivered in the cold. All were clad in pitch black samurai armor, in stark contrast to the newly fallen white snow. They stood together, waiting for the command to attack from their leader, who stood apart from his troops, surveying the small castle in the distance.

Their leader wore a hulking mass of Cobalt Blue armor which covered his entire body, so that it appeared he had no body at all, just the armor. At his side, a massive sword sat ready to cleave any enemy in two. His face was covered by a battlemask, but when he breathed, small red flames licked the mask, as if their leader was breathing fire itself. His troops didn't dare ask.

No one questioned Warlord Drakken.

A slight rustle in the trees above him caught the Warlord's attention. Looking up, he was privilidged to witness his deadliest servant standing high in the treetops, having just returned from her scouting mission. She wore a tight green-black bodysuit with a black mask that covered her mouth but not her luxurious, scintillating raven hair that flowed down past her shoulders. No weapons were visible on her person, but only a fool would think that she was anything less than heavily armed to the teeth.

Drakken never made that mistake, and thanked his lucky stars for the day that he found Lady Shego and convinced her to work for him.

"My lady, is everything prepared?"

Shego nodded her head. Under the mask, she smiled wickedly. "The Yamanouchi's move tonight."

"Then we will do the same."

To be continued…