Chapter 4
It was well into the early hours of the morning, but Yoshimo was still up and about. Hiruma had summoned him after dinner and said that they would be going out that evening for some on the job training. Hiruma outlined Yoshimo’s role in simple terms. He was to stay where Hiruma wanted him and be silent. If things degenerated into a fight he was to get well out of the way. Hiruma didn’t add any qualifications, such as ‘but there isn’t likely to be a fight,’ or ‘unless I look like I’m in trouble,’ and what that might mean Yoshimo hadn’t a clue. He was beginning to get the feeling that Hiruma was a plan for the unexpected sort of man, and being thus that he was very hard to catch off guard.
They met Hiruma’s contact in a seedy tea house. Gamblers played their games of chance in dark corners, and prostitutes sidled up to lonely men without shame or hesitation. It was one of those rank halls of corruption and filth that Yoshimo had heard about from his father and older brothers, the sort of place a samurai would not have been caught dead in. Yoshimo smiled tightly to himself. He wasn’t samurai anymore, and he’d never had any thing against slumming it in the first place. He settled into his own dark corner with Hiruma, their contact, a greasy man in ill-kempt clothes, huddled with them.
“Who’s the boy?” the contact asked.
“No one of importance,” Hiruma replied. “Do you have the information I need?”
“Of course. The man you seek is hiding out in the Lucky Lotus. He’s been a patron of one of the geisha there for years now, and he convinced the proprietor to hide him.”
“I knew that. I thought that Ganko was smarter than to protect him though.”
“There’s little some of those women won’t do to keep a good patron. Ganko-san owed him some favors I believe. Besides that, I hear he’s close to buying out his lady's contract for a ridiculous sum. He’s infatuated with her.”
It must have been some sum indeed for the madam to risk the wrath of the authorities, Yoshimo thought. The price for harboring a criminal was death. If the man in question was a criminal. He didn’t think that Hiruma really cared about committing murder or a kidnapping so long as he couldn’t be held accountable for the crime. Even his former friends would have hesitated to associate with such people, but that was why they were home in their safe beds on their family estates and not out in the real world.
Hiruma finished his business and stood up. He left without bowing or thanking the contact, but Yoshimo, a little more polite than his teacher, gave a hesitant bow.
“Watch yourself, boy,” the contact said quietly. “I don’t know what you’re doing with Hiruma-san, but never let down your guard around him. Never.”
“Ah… thank you,” Yoshimo stumbled. He quickly followed Hiruma out of the tea house.
Out on the street, Hiruma led the way toward the pleasure quarters. He moved at a brisk pace, and Yoshimo had to work to keep up with him.
“Lesson number two,” Hiruma said as they walked, “all that foolish politeness you were taught is useless unless you’re dealing with someone higher up than you. Never give the scum under your boots the chance to think they’re your equal. All that bowing and scraping you did back there’ll only get you trouble.”
“I thought that man was higher…”
“Wrong! You are my apprentice, and that puts you above the stinking rumormongers and information sellers,” Hiruma corrected brusquely. “That bastard was paid in money, there’s no need to pay him in respect too. He knows his place. Know yours.”
Yoshimo asked, “But how will I know when to be polite?”
“Follow my lead,” Hiruma said. “Listen closely. Do you know what we’re going to do now?”
A little thrown by Hiruma’s sudden change of topic, Yoshimo took some time to answer. “We’re going to the Lucky Lotus?”
“Exactly. Do you know what we’re going to do there?”
“Ah… no, not precisely.”
“We are going to kill. Or at least I am.”
“Why kill?”
“Because that is what the contract called for.”
“What did this man do?”
“I don’t know. That doesn’t matter. All you need to care about is that the contract calls for death. Keep your mind on the important things. Guilt, innocence, those aren’t your concern. Your concern is fulfilling the contract and getting paid. Do you understand?”
“I… suppose.”
“Don’t suppose. Be certain. And be quiet now. We’re getting close.”
When they arrive Hiruma didn’t bother to be invited inside, he just opened the door let himself in. Yoshimo boggled briefly at his amazing lack of manners, but remembering what Hiruma had said before, gritting his teeth and followed.
The proprietor, an aging woman who might once have been very pretty, came hurrying up to them, a look of horror on her face. No doubt she thought Hiruma’s manners atrocious too. “Honored sirs…” she began.
“I’m looking for a man, Hanabishi Domon, please lead me to him right now,” Hiruma said coolly.
“I’m very sorry but…”
“Don’t lie to me,” Hiruma cut her off. “I know he’s here, and I can and will kill anyone who gets in my way.”
The old woman trembled. “This way,” she said softly. She led them through the building to a small room.
Without bothering to confirm that this was indeed the place he wanted, Hiruma pushed the door open and stormed in. There was only one person in the room, a man of middling years. He was obviously not a warrior of any sort, probably a merchant if anything. “What in the… who are you?” he demanded, standing up.
“Hanabishi Domon?” Hiruma inquired.
“Err… ah… yes, that’s me.”
“Prepare yourself for death.”
“What? Now wait a moment please! If it’s about the incident I have a perfectly good ex…”
“I’m not here to listen to your explanations, I’m only here to kill you,” Hiruma told him flatly. He drew his sword and advanced on the frightened man. “Now, you can die with honor, or I can kill you like the sniveling coward you are. It’s your choice.”
“Please, listen to me!”
“The latter it is then.” Hiruma attacked, his blade gleaming in the dim light. Hanabishi tried to dodge to one side, but he was too slow. He would have died right there had Hiruma’s foot not caught on a low table. The bounty hunter stumbled, and his target leapt for the door.
“Stop him!” Hiruma ordered.
His heart beating wildly, Yoshimo got in front of the door. He fumbled for his katana and drew it just as Hanabishi reached him. More by accident than by design, he managed to bring the blade to bear as Hanabishi tried to push past him. The two of them tumbled to the ground and in the process Hanabishi ended up slamming his neck against the sharp side of Yoshimo’s blade, slitting his own throat. Yoshimo tried to move away from the man as he thrashed and gurgled in his death throes, but he was pinned. At last Hanabishi stopped moving, and Yoshimo pushed the corpse off of him, disgusted. He stood up on unsteady legs, warm, sticky blood soaking the front of his clothes and his skin.
Hiruma was shaking, and at first Yoshimo though he was angry, but the he realized that he was laughing. “Well, that’s a novel way to die,” Hiruma chuckled. He walked over and toed the corpse with his boot. “What would you call that? Suicide? I wouldn’t want to call something like that my first kill. Not very impressive.”
“Ah… yes,” Yoshimo mumbled. Mechanically, he flicked the blood off of his blade and sheathed it.
“Come on then, we’re done here,” Hiruma said.
Yoshimo followed Hiruma out of the building and back to his home. The blood on his clothes dried and stiffened as he walked so that by the time they were home it was a rusty brown splotch. Kaede, who greeted them at the door, gave him a curious look, but didn’t ask questions. He noticed that she was smiling ever so slightly.
“What about that old woman?” Yoshimo asked Hiruma as he began to walk away.
“What about her?”
“I don’t know,” Yoshimo admitted lamely.
“Then shut up. I have no patience for stupid questions.” Hiruma stalked off, adding as he went, without even turning his head, “And put clean clothes on. You stink of blood.”
Yoshimo grimaced. He hardly noticed as Kaede shuffled him off to a bath and fresh clothes and then saw him to bed. His mind was whirling, and the whole world seemed oh so distant to him. Hiruma was right, he stank of blood. Even after washing he could still smell its sick, coppery odor.
“You did well,” Kaede praised him, standing in the doorway of his room. She smiled strangely and then left, shutting the door behind her.
Yoshimo crawled into bed and tried to focus his scattered thoughts. He had seen death before, it was after all, as common as dirt. No one grew up a samurai without having seen death first hand many times. He had witnessed his father execute disobedient retainers, and seen men commit seppuku, slicing their own insides apart, but he had never killed before. In the grand scheme of things, he told himself, it meant nothing. Before he died he would kill many more people, no doubt, so one death didn’t matter. Someday, he wouldn’t even remember the man’s name.
He rationalized until he grew too tired to think, and then drifted off to sleep.
Part One: Chapter 4
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, Oct 10 2007 02:05 AM
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