Synopsis: Hyogo meets the two Yakan operators assigned to accompany him on his hunt for Kanbei and Gorobei. But will the peerless samurai’s pride and pettiness alienate his allies?

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At 6:00am on the 14th day of the 8th month, two Yakans waited for Hyogo outside Garage 2. The machine operators, policemen from the armored company, were squatting outside their robots, oiling the joints of the steel machines. Although the armored police captain told them that their appointment with Sir Hyogo was at 6:30am, the two low-ranking policemen took things one step further. The honor of working with the famed Kurata Hyogo should be taken very seriously indeed. Takemaru and Kunichiyo showed up for work an hour early to tune their Yakans and review the case file on the anti-ronin mission.

“Wow, I heard Hyogo-dono did countless great deeds during the Great War!” Takemaru, the younger of the two men, addressed his companion while spraying the Yakans’ joints with grease lubricant. “Have you worked with Hyogo-dono before?”

“Once, three years back, when our city experienced a wave of department store robberies.” Kunichiyo answered as he climbed into his Yakan to test the controls. “The robberies were attributed to gangsters, so the Magisterial Department ordered the police to do a citywide sweep of street gangs. Sir Hyogo officially led an operation of 5 police squads in an assault on the gang-ridden neighborhood of Ichijou. My squad took part.”

“Wow, you had the great honor of fighting under Hyogo-dono’s leadership?!” Takemaru gushed, putting aside the can of joint lubricant to pick up the case file folder that he brought with him. “Was he an inspirational leader?”

“Well, Hyogo-dono was nominally the commander of the operation,” Kunichiyo’s voice echoed from within his steel tube robot, “But in reality, Captain Toshi led the backup of 2 Yakan squads while Captain Yoshiaki led the backup of 3 footman squads. The Honorable Hyogo didn’t give orders concerning squad maneuvers. He provided the one-person vanguard.”

“One person vanguard?”

“Yes, Sir Hyogo insisted that he was the only warrior needed in a vanguard force; the rest of us would just slow him down cos’ his skill level is like a gazillion times higher than everyone else’s.” Kunichiyo’s voice was voided of discernable human emotion after being filtered through the metal casing of the Yakan’s shell. “He made it clear that the police squads were to follow a good distance behind him, far enough back so that Sir Hyogo would definitely be the first to get a piece of the action, but not so far back that we couldn’t witness the coolness of his sword fighting. He said that none of us should draw our swords before he draws his sword.”

“Wow, it’s so like Hyogo-dono to take on all risk on the behalf of others!” Wide-eyed Takemaru exclaimed. “So brave and so self-sacrificingly noble!”

“Well, it turned out that the rest of us didn’t have to do any fighting cos’ all the street punks loitering in public view had fallen under Sir Hyogo’s great sword Umehime by the time we caught up with Sir Hyogo.” Kunichiyo reminisced. “Hyogo-dono was that fast.”

“WOW! You guys didn’t have to do anything because the Honorable Hyogo did everything?!!!” said novice Takemaru, who could not see Kunichiyo grimacing inside the Yakan.

“Actually the rest of us had to do many things in the aftermath of the attack on Ichijou,” Kunichiyo thought, “after Hyogo had left the stage and the curtains had closed.” Kunichiyo and his fellow policemen had to search and identify all the bodies mowed down by Hyogo’s supposedly divinely-sanctioned sword. It turned out that the slain ‘criminals’ were mostly petty crooks whose police records showed little more than pick-pocketing, shoplifting and assaults stemming from personal quarrels. Many of them didn’t even have provable gang membership. A few of them were homeless people with no criminal record at all. Even the handful of known gangsters killed in the Ichijou raid were not high enough in the yakuza hierarchy to have masterminded the robberies.

The police department was stuck with the unpleasant task of justifying the summary killings. But the low class residents of Ichijou, not knowing their place, were apparently not satisfied with the official excuses. They dared to gather outside a district police station, protesting the deaths of their ‘scummy friends and relatives’, as some of Ayamaro’s bureaucrats called the slain street punks.

In response, Governor Ayamaro resorted to the public relations stunt of calming dissent by sending well-known war hero Hyogo out to the Ichijou district police station to lecture the gathered ‘outcastes’ on “knowing their place.” A few loud rebukes from the deservedly haughty white-faced samurai was enough to silence most of people in the suddenly-awed crowd, but not all of them. Hyogo had to take the trouble of stepping down from his high podium to push his way into the mob to slap a few low class women who had the audacity to retort in a tone that should never be used on a great ladylike samurai. Upon this display of righteous samurai indignation, the crowd gasped and was shocked into silent submission before dispersing meekly, or at least that was what Kunichiyo, who wasn’t witness to the neighborhood protest, learnt from the official version of events. But the Yakan pilot, though not entirely sympathethic to the complaints of the outcastes, saw no compelling reason to accept the complete veracity of the official story either.

According to what Kunichiyo overheard from officials in the Kougakyo Government, the debacle of the Ichijou massacre wasn’t so much Hyogo’s fault as it was Ayamaro’s. Chief Magistrate Ayamaro, panicking under pressure from the wealthy department store owners who contributed financially to his political machine, had forced the Assistant Magistrates to push forward with the ‘sweep’ before the investigations into who exactly were behind the robberies had been completed.

Nevertheless, Kunichiyo, feeling that it was not his place to openly criticize his superiors, did not mention the hidden side of Hyogo’s publicly touted successes to police force newcomer Takemaru.

“They say Hyogo-dono’s sword Umehime has very strong spiritual power,” Takemaru’s voice broke through Kunichiyo’s less-than-pleasant recollections. “Is that true?”

“Have you met Sir Hyogo in person before?” The older policeman finally popped his head out of his Yakan to stare quizzically at his companion.

“No, I’ve only been working here for less than a year.” The novice Yakan operator replied. “A few times, I saw Hyogo-dono from a distance. The closest view I got of Honorable Hyogo was when he was on stage giving a speech at last winter’s city employee morale party. I’ve never spoken to him but I’ve heard so many cool things about him. I heard people say that other people say that Nose Band Guy and Mono Eye Dude say that Hyogo says he is the very incarnation of mercy and kindness. Hyogo-dono himself always reminds us of his unsurpassed war record whenever he gives a public speech, about how he single-handedly saved an entire province with a population of like 4 million, the province that used to be called Akito Province but which got renamed Hyogo Province in his honor. Is it not so? “

But before the other Yakan operator had a chance to respond, Takemaru caught sight of a sleek silhouette approaching them through the morning mist. As the figure came closer, the Yakan operators could discern his/her long, silky, unusually black hair cascading down straight, proud shoulders. Striking black lipstick pulled attention to an unusually white face. Searing dark eyes peered out from behind yellow-tinted glasses.

Hyogo’s stately walk came to a halt at about 15 feet from where the Yakans stood. Wordlessly, the samurai appraised the two waiting Yakan pilots with a proud, critical gaze.

Instinctively, Takemaru knew that he was in the presence of greatness. But, occupied by the noble carriage and uniquely striking appearance of the new arrival, he forgot himself and did not bow until Kunichiyo’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Greetings, Sir Hyogo,” His companion was bowing before the samurai. “Kunichiyo of the 2nd Squad at your service.”

“It’s an honor to serve under you, Great Hyogo,” Takemaru, scarcely believing his fortune in being able to meet the famous war veteran face-to-face, also bowed low to Hyogo. “Takemaru of the 4th Squad at your service.”

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At 6:37 am, Kurata Hyogo was marching through the streets of Kougakyo with two Yakans from the armored police as escort.

Despite being surrounded by the subtle beauty that the color of early daylight brought to even the drabbest urban structures, the androgynous samurai was in an ugly mood. In fact, he had been quite unhappy ever since his two friends were killed, and every little annoyance added to the rain cloud over his soul. Haunted by a burning desire to slay the murderers, Hyogo had not slept well the night before, nor the night before that.

On top of that, the preparations for the memorial service of Nose Band Guy and Mono-Eye Dude were not going as quickly as he wanted. Tessai failed to get an appointment with the crematorium on the 13th of the month as Hyogo had told him to do. Instead, Mono-Eye Dude was scheduled to be cremated at 11am on the present day, the 14th. Hyogo was not sure if he would finish his assignment in time to attend his friend’s cremation.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” the samurai instructed Yakan operators Kunichiyo and Takemaru. “Scan for two dark-skinned ronin, one with long dark wavy hair, about 6 feet 2 inches tall, and the other with short silver hair, about 6 feet 4 inches in height. Other armed members of their party may include a 9 foot tall mecha painted red and yellow, and a 15 year old boy with dark green hair worn in a ponytail. Got that? Don’t make me repeat myself!”

“Yes, sir!” the two policemen answered, peering at their monitor screens while rotating the Yakans’ red eyes in full circle. But there were few ronin wandering the streets of Kougakyo at 6:37am. Those with no masters to work for had little reason to rise early. Indeed, there were not too many people of any class walking about the usually crowded city at this hour. The first people whom the Yakans and Hyogo came across were 6 young men and women dressed in chain restaurant uniforms, apparently on their way to work. These youths, glancing nervously at the samurai and his metal companions, bowed quickly towards Hyogo with formulaic respect before hurrying off.

Hyogo’s party walked by one or two street cleaners leisurely sweeping the streets, and were passed in turn by the occasional delivery truck. They saw 3 or 4 of down-and-out ronin sleeping on the streets. But none of them fit the description of the two murderers they sought.

After following Hyogo through rather deserted streets for 20 minutes, the novelty of being in Hyogo’s unforgettably unique presence had worn off slightly. The inexperienced Takemaru’s boredom at scanning the nearly empty streets overcame his slack-jawed, dumbfounded awe at Hyogo. Besides, he had heard rumors that Hyogo-dono was remarkable among samurai in being kindly tolerant of people regardless of their class origins. After all, Ayamaro’s bodyguard was close friends with Nose Band Guy and Mono Eye Dude, who weren’t of samurai birth.

So the young man found the courage to address the peerless Hyogo from within his Yakan. “Sir Hyogo, may I ask why we have to be out so early? There are barely any ronin around at this hour. It usually gets livelier after 7:30am.”

The samurai felt a surge of annoyance within him.

“Get out of the Yakan.” Hyogo, his tone crisp and cold, tapped twice on the hull of Takemaru’s robot.

Obediently, the operator popped the lid and climbed out, upon which, Hyogo turned his fearsome gaze upon the unfortunate man.

“Just who is in charge here, huh? You tell me?!!”

Takemaru’s brows furrowed in anxiety. The Yakan operator could tell that Hyogo was offended. But before the man of lower social status could throw in an apologetic bow or two, the samurai continued his tirade.

“Just who is the leader huh?”

Takemaru was about to say “You, Sir!” but Hyogo cut him off by slapping him twice. The samurai’s two blows were not too hard, more intended to make a point than to hurt the target.

“You think you can take charge of this expedition, huh?”

Stunned by the unexpected assault of Hyogo’s expensive velvet gloves on his rough, acne-scarred cheeks, the Yakan operator shook his head in confusion. He did not have the slightest desire to take charge of this outing, nor was it his intention to challenge Hyogo’s authority.

“Who in the world do you think you are? Just what qualifies you to question me?!” The samurai’s beautiful white teeth flashed in his strikingly expressive mouth. “Did you perform great feats of valor in the Great War? Did you slay 831 ranking warriors single-handedly? Did you, by your singular effort, save an entire province with a population of 4.2345 million? Is your name uttered in awe in every province, in every county, in every city, and on every street corner of the Empire and beyond?”

Blinking nervously, the Yakan pilot vigorously shook his head.

“No? NO?!!” The samurai’s blackened lips stretched in a wide sneering smile before suddenly warping into a hysterical roar. “Then you are NOWHERE near my level and NEVER will be. So shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!!!”

Takemaru, nearly bowled over by the deafening screech of outraged pride and injured nobility, bowed as low as he could. “I’m very sorry, Hyogo-sama!”

Standing by silently, the other Yakan pilot Kunichiyo glanced furtively about their surroundings through his Yakan’s 360 degree field of vision, secretly hoping that there were no passers-by to witness this scene so that Ayamaro’s name would not be further shamed by his well-known bodyguard’s public loss of emotional control. The Yakan operator winced to see that a few curious onlookers on the parallel street on the opposite of the canyon were gawking at them.

None of the three men noticed that 3 city levels above that parallel street stood a slender figure camouflaged in a concrete-gray cloak, partially hidden behind a pillar, looking down at them. Kunichiyo was occupied with the mortification of being associated with Hyogo’s public tantrum, Takemaru was wrapped up in his own humiliation, and Hyogo was too caught up in any real or imagined threat to his ego. Even if the men had been paying cursory attention to their surroundings, it was doubtful if the distant flash of red fabric peaking from a gap in the gray cloak worn by the lone watcher a hundred feet across the canyon, 60 feet above and 40 feet behind them would have registered.

“Don’t you ever DARE to question me again!” Hyogo was shouting down at the bowed Takemaru.

“Forgive me, Honorable Hyogo,” Takemaru, his face red with embarrassment, answered in a tremulous voice. “I will never question you again.”

Kunichiyo felt a degree of sympathy for the unfortunate Takemaru. He was also embarrassed on behalf of both his colleague and himself at having been seen in public with a ‘leader’ who may have mastered the sword but apparently could barely master himself.

Hyogo , looking down at the man trembling with humiliation before him, felt rather grand and powerful for having put the base creature in his place. It was a pleasant, mildly dizzying sensation. Oh, how he needed that boost given his bad mood! But still the warrior was subconsciously disappointed that the low class creature cringing before him did not break down and cry in public. For some reason Hyogo had felt a strange, unmistakable rush of delight on past occasions when he intimidated people into weeping before him. Without realizing it, Hyogo craved that high, especially when he was in a frustrated frame of mind.

As for Takemaru, the policeman did not quite understand why Hyogo was reading things the way he did. Perhaps being someone of lowlier status, he had made a mistake in asking a question that could be interpreted as forgetting his place, but a more classy rebuke from Hyogo would have been more than sufficient to bring the point home. Besides, Hyogo was technically not his commanding officer and had no official authority over him. The Yakan operators were merely on a courtesy loan to the bodyguard.

Hyogo snapped at Takemaru. “Now get back into the Yakan and do your job as you’re told!”

The lowborn man climbed back into the steel-tube robot and started up the engine again. His hands still shuddered as he walked the machine after Hyogo. The policeman was reeling with the shock of realizing that maybe, just maybe, the flattering hype spun around Great Samurai Hyogo did not accurately reflect the heart of the ‘real’ Hyogo.

Then suddenly Takemaru realized that he was no longer trembling with humiliation. He was shaking with anger and disgust. But the steel tube robot’s steady, measured steps did not betray the emotions of the operator within.

Above them, the unobserved gray shadow on the opposite side of the canyon heaved an inaudible sigh. Kyuuzou shook her head almost imperceptibly before silently following after the Yakans.

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Inspiration for this chapter:

There really is a Hyogo Prefecture in Japan, from which I got the idea for putting a Hyogo Province in this alien planet ficverse ;-)

- I’ve wondered why the Yakans accompanying Hyogo, given their capabilities, were so unbelievably slow and inept when attacking Kirara’s team. Yes, yes, I know that fantasy fiction is supposed to be full of things that don’t make RL sense, but nevertheless, this chapter and the next (or the one after next) is my attempt to ‘explain’ that strange turn of events ;-)