Fan Fiction ❯ Bushido ❯ Ambush ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 8: Ambush

Masashi glowered at his younger brother entering the room, "Say it and I'll have you flog--"

"Why haven't you given me that bastard's head yet, brother?!" Seiji whined angrily, "I haven't forgotten! I won't rest until he's dead!"

"Can't you let it go, dammit?!"

"No!"

"Just shut up and leave then. I have planning to do, and I already sent spies to search for this Nakano... months ago! Be patient, they may take some time to return." Seiji grumbled, leaving the room. A servant slid the shoji shut behind him while another turned to the Oshima lord.

"Oshima-sama," he spoke, bowing his head deeply, "Though you say you won't kill your brother, you can still refuse his favors. Why do you not?" Oshima glared at the servant, as if daring him to question his motives. The lower ranking man quivered in fear, but relaxed when Masashi turned back to his papers.

"This man is elusive," the daimyo finally spoke, "Even after the mercenary failed I sent some of my better men to catch him, along with spies to find him. My men lost track of him, though the spies seemed to deduce where he was heading. So, I got help from a... source... to use some creatures, tree demons, I think, and a trap involving foreigners... they all failed. I haven't heard word of him since last fall, and now it's mid-spring."

"So?" Masashi banged his large hands on the small table.

"So?!" he roared, "So, a mere ronin outwits me, a daimyo, at every turn! First he decimates my army with water, and slips between my fingers every time I try to catch him! I don't like prey that escapes! It's insulting my pride and my rank! This isn't was never about my disgrace of a brother's 'honor.' It's about my honor, my power! NO ONE eludes me when I decide to kill them, NO ONE!" His fist slammed into the wood, cracking the surface and leaving a small crater. The middle-aged man cursed loudly, leaping to his feet.

"YOU DAMN MORONS!" he screamed at the servants, "REPLACE THAT!"

"Y-yes, milord!" his servants scrambled over to the ruin table and carrying it out, somewhat glad to be free of their master's presence. Oshima snarled, plopping back down, rubbing his throbbing temple in irritation. A few minutes later, a samurai burst into the room, clumsily getting to his knees and bowing.

"O-Oshima-sama!" he sputtered, "Some of your spies returned! They have information where Nakano is, and they say he's moving at a very slow pace, so he should be easy to catch!"

At the sound of this news, Masashi forgot about punishing the warrior for entering without approval, "Nani?! Where is he?!"

"In Sagami, though they suspect he'll be in Izu soon."

"Fetch me the trio at once! Tell them I must speak with them, NOW." Understanding whom he meant, the vassal nodded and dashed out.

"Yes sir!"

No goof ups or failures this time, Masashi thought grimly, I will not tolerate it!

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Koichi folded his arms inside his kimono, sweat dripping down his neck from the summer heat. Though he wished to remove his other robes, these were the only good clothes he had left, so he decided not to risk losing them by taking them off. The ronin lifted up the jug at his side, opened it, and downed some of the refreshing, cold water. He was glad he'd restocked on his water and food supply at the last town. The road had been nothing but endless plains on one side, and deep forests on the other for two days. Once again he found himself wishing he had a travel companion. Though the sites were nice, Koichi really began to feel lonely, despite all the interesting characters he'd already met.

"It shouldn't be this hot before midday," he murmured, "And I thought the more northern regions were supposed to be cooler in general. Yare yare..."

At the end of the hour, the skies began to darken, and Koichi frowned, looking up. "I hope it doesn't rain." He twitched his eyes in the direction of the trees, unsheathing Dragon's Claw, his katana. In the same instant his blade saw daylight, three armored samurai leapt down from the trees to the path in front of him.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about the rain, Nakano," the tall man in the middle stated gruffly. Koichi frowned, glancing at the banner attached to his armor, his eyes setting on the # shape that stood for the Oshima clan mon.

"So, it appears Lord Masashi has found me again." the ronin said, spreading his legs apart, putting on equal balance. "He never gives up, does he?"

"The master insists we bring your head on a platter to him, and we can't disobey orders." The large samurai said, pulling out his own weapon along with his companions.

"Gomen, but I can't give up my life so easily," Koichi replied, putting some weight down into his legs, "Come, I'm ready."

The three samurai charged forward and Koichi narrowed his eyes, concentrating. The tall one came within close distance first. Before he could strike with his blade, Koichi sidestepped out of the way, putting his back to the other warrior. Pushing his weight on his legs and feet, Koichi bent over, twisting at the waist and swinging his katana backwards in his favorite technique, the kofuku-tenshinken. The steel slammed into the man's back, knocking him over. His armor saved him from death, though groaned as he hit the dirt.

After his first strike, Koichi swung his arm and torso back, bringing his blade into an uppercut, knocking the second samurai off balance. The ronin quickly held his katana parallel to the ground, blocking the third's attack. Koichi's russet eyes glared at his opponent's shadowed ones, pushing his sword against the other's. Both stumbled back from each other before charging, the loud clangs of their blades ringing in the dim afternoon.

Koichi frowned, quickly glancing to the side, watching the other two recover, getting to their feet. He leapt up suddenly, knowing they were trying to close him in a circle. Somersaulting in the air, the ronin's blade flew down, removing the shortest one's helmet from his head. Koichi landed hard on his feet, backing up, sword ready for defensive action. He began to pant after dodging and blocking many strikes. Tengu training or not, these men were excellent fighters, and he needed to remove at least one of them to even have a chance at living.

Koichi swiftly yanked his wakizashi out from its sheath and used it to block and attack on the left while using the katana to block a right attack. He kicked the center samurai in the stomach before ducking down, dashing ahead to free himself from the vulnerable position. The teen twisted and swung both blades as the trio came near, but since they had the advantage of armor, he didn't do much damage. Growling when the tall warrior began a rapid burst of strikes, Koichi struggled to deflect them all.

However, the other two quickly reminded him of their presence. Koichi yelped in pain, feeling the tip of one's blade tear across his side while the other dug and sliced into his left cheek, opening a long, vertical thin slit down his face. The ronin managed to smack them away with the blunt ends of his blades when he felt the first drops of rain hit the ground.

Oh, perfect timing to get the terrain soaked, kami-sama, he thought somewhat irately at whatever deity may be listening. When the rain quickly advanced from a light drizzle to a harsh downpour, Koichi regretted thinking anything but squinted through the falling water, resisting the urge to wipe his dripping bangs from his eyes. Thankfully, the new mud and haze also hindered his enemy, and Koichi managed to avoid their next few assaults with relative ease. He thanked the Tengu for giving him better endurance, otherwise he'd have passed on long ago. Yet, these fighters seemed excellently trained as well, and though tired, they still pushed on, like him.

Koichi winced, feeling another katana slit across his left bicep. Backing up towards the trees, he elbowed the nearest samurai, knocking him into the other two as the trio fell rather comically to the muddy earth. Not willing to risk anything, Koichi sheathed his wakizashi and katana before scurrying into the woods. He heard his foe's angry shouts as they recovered. Panicking, Koichi scrambled high into the branches of a large tree, praying it wasn't another tree demon.

The snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves alerted him to the nearby presence of Oshima's samurai. Koichi placed his callused hand over his mouth, smothering his haggard breathing. He watch carefully from above -- one by one the warriors came into the area, searching. The young ronin quietly retreated further into his leafy hideout, wondering if they could hear the rapid pounding of his exhausted, frightened heart. First the first time Koichi truly noticed hid wounds, placing his free hand over his side wound in attempt to prevent too much blood drip. He didn't want his own life liquid causing his death.

After long, long minutes of rummaging about the foliage, the samurai trio roared in anger, apparently giving up chase for the time being. They left the clearing, but Koichi didn't risk it. He waited many painfully long minutes until he was certain they'd long past. He climbed to a lower limb before leaping down from his perch, and instantly regretted it. His weak, strained legs wobbled under his weight while his tormented feet vibrated hard against the impact. Koichi stumbled to one knee, gasping for air as he rose up once more.

By now the heavy rain stopped but the air remain chilled, and Koichi shivered, goosebumps running throughout his being. He leaned against a trunk, trying to feel some energy return to him. Tired of remaining in the spot any longer, the young man staggered through the forest blindly, hoping in vain to find his way back to a road.

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Koichi emerged from the trees and found a dirt path ahead. He approached it, stumbling over his tired feet as he went. Having no real clue where he was, he quickly picked a direction and went on, only hoping the trio of samurai wouldn't find him again. His side, his arm, and his cheek throbbed as he bled. He longed for some sort of shelter and continued on. As he trudged slowly onward, a loud roar emerged from the heavens.

The dark sky that threatened to pour for hours finally gave in once more, now in a new location. The young ronin soon again felt the heavy rainfall slam against his body, blending, dripping down with the blood and sweat. Puddles quickly formed in the dips of the road, turning the dirt-made roads into a slushy, slick mud.

His feet slid and pressed on through the muck. The clothes on his back, just recently dried, saturated quickly, clinging to his torso and limbs. Koichi's already snail-like pace gradually slowed down and down, until finally, his aching legs could no longer support the weight and collapsed underneath him. He slid as he fell and thudded against the soaked grass. The samurai tried to get up, but found he barely had the energy to blink an eye.

So this is it then, Koichi thought bitterly, feeling his blood leak out from under him, I'm going to die here, alone, and I'll probably look like the victim of a highway robbery. Wonderful. As he closed his eyes and let the darkness consume him, his only muse was, I hope my next life isn't so miserable.

The thunder rumbled in the distance.

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K ami-sama, why couldn't the gods decide to make it rain after I got home? Bound in straw sandals but otherwise naked feet tore through the mud. Yare yare...at least I'm almost there. I just hope the thunder decides to hold off a little longer... There was a deafening bellow as the sky lit up. The figure sighed as it pulled a bamboo cart along. Spoke too soon.

The sky lit up again a moment later, illuminating the road briefly. The traveler paused and squinted through the rain. Was that...? Another flash followed by a roar lit its way, revealing a body sprawled on the side of the road. The figure put down its cart momentarily, cautiously approaching the fallen man. Lightning flashed as the woman knelt down.

"A samurai..." she muttered. "...Is he even still alive?" She placed her hand in front of his mouth. Gentle, short winds of hot breath came in response. She removed her hand. "Shallow and ragged, but he's still breathing." The woman hesitated a moment in thought. Here lay a samurai, bleeding and unconscious on a road during a storm, most likely a victim of some sort of assault. There was no doubt he would die should she leave him here. However, if she dragged him into her home, how could she know if he turned out to be some sort of rogue ronin and murder her (or worse), in spite of her help? She looked down at the pitiful man once more.

I could always take and keep his daisho until I know he's trustworthy... As if that was her deciding statement, the woman lifted the samurai's torso and dragged him over to her cart. Lifting up the covering, she groped for a spare cloth and soon found one. Taking it out, she tightly bound it around the man's sides. His other wounds would have to wait until she got home. With some difficulty, she gently lifted him into the cart, after making space, and pulled the cover back over, but leaving some open for air.

With that she returned to the handles and hauled her now heavier load down the road, her slower pace not discouraging her from reaching her destination.

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K oichi mumbled incoherently, emerging from the darkness into a blurred atmosphere. He blinked a few times until his vision cleared up. Then the headache hit him. He groaned, raising his lazy hand to rub his temples. After a few moments, he finally became functional enough to recognize his surroundings. He looked down at himself and instantly blushed, realizing he'd been stripped down to only his fudashi, though a bluish futon's sheet covered it up. However, all his wounds had been cleaned and bandaged up, including the gash in his side and cheek. Koichi observed the room he lay in: A somewhat modest, yet also elegant setting. Beautiful dark wood made of the floor, and he noticed a few shoji leading into other rooms. In the center was a pit for cooking, and it seemed occupied.

An elderly man hunched over the pit, stirring something inside a boiling pot.

"E-excuse me... ojisan..." Koichi muttered, regaining his voice. The man looked up from cooking, wrinkles forming around his eyes as he smiled through his graying beard.

"Ah, so you are awake, samurai-sama," he said, voice gentle, yet somewhat ragged from age, "Feeling any better?"

"Somewhat..." Koichi murmured, rubbing his sore head. "I beg pardon, but... where am I?" The old man chuckled, testing his food before spooning it into a bowl. He handed it to Koichi.

"Here, have this. It'll help with some of the aches, not to mention its aid in healing." Koichi thanked him, taking the bowl and slowly sipping it down. The hot liquid warmed his throat and insides.

"Good, ne?" the old man smiled, watching.

"It's wonderful, thank you."

"Anyway, I'm sorry for not introducing myself, but dinner's about ready, so let's hold it off until then, all right?"

"If it pleases you."

"Such a gentleman!" the elder exclaimed, chuckling. "That's something I haven't seen from a samurai in a while!"

"I am a simple ronin, ojisan."

"But you're still a samurai as far as I'm concerned. Oi, Haruko!" He looked over into another room, "Is that tea ready yet? Our guest is awake!"

"Just a moment, otousan!" a young woman's voice called through the open door.

Nodding at her general direction, the man spoke, "That's my daughter. You should thank her that you're still alive, she's the one who found you."

"Then I am most grateful."

"Tea's ready!" the same woman's voice said cheerfully as she entered the room. Koichi blinked, rubbing his eyes. She... what was her name... Haruko? She couldn't have been much younger than him. Her tied up midnight black hair shimmered in the low light, and she moved gracefully inside her green, flower patterned kimono. Setting the tea tray down, she placed a cloth in her hand and with it, lifted a cup, charily filling it before handing it to Koichi.

"Careful, it's hot," she warned, handing it over. Koichi nodded in thanks, gingerly taking the cup and sipping the green liquid.

"It's good. Real good." Koichi said once he'd downed the cup. Haruko laughed softly.

"Well, we've got plenty more! And dinner's ready, so please wait a moment while I bring it in!" Haruko left the room while the man put out the cooking fire.

"Your daughter seems like a good woman." Koichi complimented.

"Thank you. She's a good girl, like her mother was."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

"It's all right." Koichi paused a moment.

"Excuse me, ojisan, but... where are my clothes?" The elder blinked before laughing.

"We had to wash your attire because of all the mud and blood. They're still wet, sorry about that. Wait just a moment..." He staggered to his feet, "I'll lend you one of my old yukata." The man hobbled out of the room just as Haruko came in with the first tray of food. She placed it on the floor for a minute, opening a storage area in the floor and lifting out a small eating table. She then placed the food on the table, bowed politely to Koichi, and went to retrieve the rest. The man soon returned with a sleeping yukata.

"It's not the best, but I think it's the only one that'll fit you, you're such a large man," he chuckled, handing the clothing to Koichi, who thanked him before slipping it on. Somewhat of a tight fit, but the ronin had to agree, to most Japanese, he was giant at 5'10". Nevertheless, he welcomed the covering for his body, especially when in a somewhat formal situation with both males and females. Haruko returned with the last trays of food and placed them down. She stepped back as Koichi and the older man sat down, but her father motioned for her to sit.

"Come daughter, sit with us, there's only three here, and it's not like you're dining with the Emperor." Haruko smiled at her father gratefully, taking her place at an empty table side. Though mildly surprised that a woman was allowed to eat with men here, he didn't protest. Actually, he found it sweet that a parent loved his child enough to break the taboos of traditions, even small ones, especially in the presence of a stranger, and a social superior at that. Koichi glanced up at the man as if asking permission before taking any food.

"Please, help yourself, samurai-sama," the man told him, "we may be commoners, but we have enough to spare a fair amount of a meal for you."

"Ah... arigatou," Koichi replied gratefully, serving himself some rice and noodles. He received another small serving of tea from Haruko, which he accepted gratefully. After emptying half of his rice bowl, the ronin spoke.

"Now, you said that you'd introduce yourselves at dinner, ojisan," he said with a casual tone.

"Hai, pardon my manners," the man replied, "I shouldn't make you wait so long! I am Kubota Hidemi, owner of this small patch of land."

"Kubota Hidemi?" Koichi repeated.

"Hai, Samurai-sama," the old man replied as he motioned towards the girl, "and this is Kubota Haruko, my daughter, as you already know."

"Pardon me if I sound rude, but," Koichi said, "but you are both peasants, ne?"

"Hai," acknowledged Hidemi simply.

"Then why do you carry two names?" Koichi asked. "Only the samurai and noble classes are allowed to have two names. And you are very well off for commoners, judging by your accommodations. Abnormally well off. I can think of a few samurai that would be jealous of your living quarters." Hidemi smiled slightly as he sipped his saké.

"Yes, well, about that…" he started, putting the wooden cup back down, "My ancestors were samurai. My great-great-grandfather was the overseer of Hojo's peasants in this area a long time ago, so he built this house near the village, living with his family and a few servants."

"Well," Koichi took a sip of his tea, "that explains the building and two names, but why are there no servants here? And why are you peasants?"

"My grandfather liked to…well, waste his money on the dice," Hidemi explained, "And he lost much of the family's fortune, resulting in the loss of all the servants. Although he still had a fair sum of money and the land left, he was forced to turn to a life of peasantry, farming and selling crops. My father and I continued this trend.

"Since we still have extra money left over, I can afford to keep this house... and Haruko has just a few nice things, such as that kimono she's wearing now that she seems to enjoy so much." Hidemi cast a doting look on his daughter, who promptly blushed at the attention.

"Otousan, really…" she muttered. Koichi chuckled as he sipped on his tea once again.

"You know, Kubota-san," he said, smiling, "That shade of red really brings out the color of that kimono." Both men started to laugh as Haruko's already crimson face grew darker.

"Pardon me, Samurai-sama," Haruko cut it, wishing to change the subject, "But by what name should we call you by?" The ronin took a long sip of his drink before replying.

"I am known as Nakano Koichi," he answered.

"All right, Nakano-sama," Haruko said.

"Just 'Nakano' is fine with me." Haruko and her father blinked.

"Well, all right," Hidemi finally stuttered, "If you so wish, Nakano-san."

"Another question, if I may, Nakano-san," Haruko spoke. Koichi nodded his head, inviting her to continue, "How did you end up by the side of the road? Were you robbed or something?" Koichi placed his cup down and sighed.

"Now that…is a very long story indeed. I'd have to go back a few years to explain that properly." Hidemi smiled.

"Enlighten us then, kudasai," he told the samurai, "Haruko-chan and I love to hear a good story when the opportunity arises." Koichi sighed again.

"Very well," he gave in, "In the last year of the Pig, my clan, the Yamana, was destroyed by the Oshima clan, forcing me to become a ronin…" And so, Koichi wove a quilt using vivid language that painted lucid pictures inside the minds of his audience. He skipped many parts of his adventures, but, despite that, it took him nearly two hours to get to the point where he was ambushed. Realizing how much later it was, Koichi ended his tale quickly.

"Finished so soon?" Haruko asked, obviously discontented.

"I'm sorry, but I must go to sleep," Koichi apologized. He turned to Hidemi. "Is there anywhere I may stay until my wounds heal?"

"Hai," Hidemi said, hiding his disappointment better than his daughter, "We have a few extra rooms. I'll show you one right now." All three adults rose up and headed towards the sleeping quarters. Hidemi slid open a door leading to a small but comfortable bedroom.

"You may stay here, Nakano-san," he told the younger man, "The futon's folded up on that shelf over there. Sleep well."

"Thank you, Kubota-san," Koichi bowed in thanks, stepping into his room before pausing. He turned his head to Haruko's retreating figure, following her father. "Kubota-san?"

The young turned her head at the sound of his voice, "Hai?"

"Um... may I please have my daisho back? I can sleep much better with them close by." He noticed Haruko's dark eyebrows furrow and added, "I swear on my position as a bushi that I won't harm anyone or anything in this household. It's just... well, most samurai are more secure with their weapons, and we're really not supposed to part too far from our katana." Haruko sighed, but gave in, deciding if he was really all that bad, he would have already tried something.

"...Very well, wait here." She walked down the hallway, returning soon with both sheathed blades in her arms. "Sheesh, they're heavy."

"Only if you're not used to them," Koichi laughed, thanking her and taking the blades from her, placing them on the ground near his sleeping spot. Rolling out the futon, he glanced up as she slid the shoji closed behind her.

"Arigatou, Kubota-san," he whispered and she nodded, the paper door closing completely. Koichi groped for his katana and pulled it close to himself as he settled under the covers. Even with the energy the meal gave him, sleep fell swiftly on his beaten body, and Koichi drifted into the world between dreams and consciousness.

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Masas hi frowned at the trio of samurai bowing on their knees in front of him.

"You failed to kill him," he stated flatly.

"Oshima-sama, we wounded him badly, and the weather was terrible. He probably died anyway from the mix of both," the tall one meekly replied from his pose on the ground.

"That doesn't confirm anything. It's only a possibility."

"We can't confirm anything, my lord. Sumimasen!"

"Regardless, you failed."

"But sir, we--"

"I ordered you to slay Nakano and confirm his death without any doubt!" the daimyo snarled, silencing his servant. "You shame the success of your past exploits."

"Master, if you let I go again, we will surely find him, finish him off if necessary--"

"SILENCE!" Masashi roared, "Failures have no right to speak in my presence! Guards!" He barked to his equipped warriors by the door.

"Hai, Master Oshima?"

"Take these three away," Masashi motioned to the samurai trio, "they're to be punished for failing their lord."

"Yes, my lord." The guards pointed their weapons at their dumbfounded peer, ordering them up.

"What's the sentence, Lord Oshima?" the second guard asked. Masashi frowned, narrowing his black eyes.

"Prepare a large pot to boil them alive," he finally said. His loyal trio's jaws dropped.

"B-b-but Master! We've served you faithfully all our lives!"

Ignoring them, Masashi rose his voice, speaking directly to the guards, "And not only insure that the water's frothing, but do not remove any of these men from the pot. They shall not be released until their flesh is dripping from their bones."

"MASTER!"

"ANYONE who tries to help them, or end their suffering early," the lord continued, his volume increasing, "Is to follow the same fate immediately, understand?!"

"Y-yes sir!" the elder guard stammered.

"Don't 'sir' me you dumbass! Carry out my orders NOW!" The guards scrambled, quickly ushering the protesting, fearful trio out of the room. Oshima spat in their direction as they left, looking back to his war plans and other projects.

"Idiots. That's all my men are, idiots," he growled, computing his next move in search for the ronin that always evaded demise. "Baka wa shinanakia naoranai... that's a good proverb that I'll be using as a policy for all my vassals now... those too stupid to carry out my orders shall be smitten." He jotted down this decree on a blank sheet of rice paper, smirking somewhat crazily to himself, "Maybe I should go back to resorting to men outside my clan... only this time find someone who can get the job done right." He chuckled to himself a man, already corrupt by nature, slowly being driven mad by an unhealthy obsession.

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Well, that was quicker than normal... prolly cuz I'd written most of it earlier. ^^;; Maybe I can keep up the trend... knock on wood... XD Sorry I skipped so much time again... you'll find out what I skipped soon.... ^_~ That and the pace'll slow down for a while soon.

Yare yare- "Oh well"
mon - clan/family crest; Koichi's is a sakura flower, Oshima's is a shape similar to the # mark.
ojisan - grandfather/uncle/old man; in Japan, people call their elders "grandmother" and "grandfather" as a sign of respect.
Baka wa shinanakia naoranai - "The fool can only be cured by death."

Somewhat of a shameless plug, but if anyone's interested in my new web comic set around the same time as Bushido (Though it's not related to Bushido in any way), you can find it at www.sbanzai.hcmrworld.com

Yay! Next one's actually up in less than a year! ^_^/; Sorry it took so long... got sidetracked with final exams... and Baldur's Gate II. God, that game is addictive, even after you've beaten it... XD

Oh, and Mitsu Tsuki, thanks again for the review. And, I'm glad you feel that way about Masashi. See, I want him to evoke that kind of feeling in readers, and I guess I succeeded. He's meant to be hated. He's meant to be a coldhearted bastard. Oh, and there were daimyo that used boiling as a form of punishment back in feudal Japan. However, even in those times, it was generally considered abnormally cruel and unnecessary.