Date Begun: 28th July 2005 Date Ended: 9th August 2005 Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance Albums listened to during the making of this fiction: Samurai Showdown 2 Music Score, Dutty Rock (Sean Paul), Silent Alarm (Bloc Party), In Utero (Nirvana), etc Author's Notes: This is the Circle of One. The second co-write between Kaiser Ryouga 2, Christine, and Shadow Bunny. But unlike the Last Saga 4, we have fewer restraints here. But we decided from the beginning that this was not going to be a hardcore, over-the-top fiction about the fate of the world. But rather a story on a far smaller scale, determining the fates of the people involved rather than the land of the people involved. Thus it has a more 'personal' feel to it, the thing we were aiming for most of all. A few things of notice, however. This story is based in 1800's Japan. Towards the declining era of the Tokugawa era. Thus it is a historical sword-and-samurai story. As with all historical stories, it is bound to have a few inaccuracies, something we don't mind admitting. All information used in the background of the story was taken from The Samurai Archives for posterity. There are some aspects of this story that are completely fictional, and others that aren't, issues that we will explain at the end of the story. And for good measure, let it be known that this fiction contains shoujo-ai (girl/girl lovin'). If you can't hack that, then I suggest you look no further. Alrighty then! The characters 'Hayate' and 'Masahito' are the creations and property of Shadow Bunny. The character 'Nanase' is the creation and property of Christine. All other characters are the creations and property of Kaiser Ryouga 2. The three authors of this story reserve joint ownership of it. If you have any comments (good or constructive) about our work, send them to moonknuckle@hotmailcom for us. Enjoy! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Slash One: The Silent Stranger of the South ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Bunsei 1 (1819) It was the first year of Bunsei. Or at least the first official year. Once again that which had been night fell to the presence of the sun. Dropping below sight and becoming a new day. To pave the way forward for a return to work and status. The grassland were soon enough awash with attendance of the male hyakushou, the farmers. Hacking with their makeshift scythes into the wheat, cultivating the land for the production of rice. One koku to each small pasture was more than enough for these men. Being that they had the consideration for their superiors in mind. The hot sun of the south beamed down of those scraggily-dressed workers, their faces creasing with the effort and matted with the sweat produced. These men would return to their wives and daughters as soon as the sun reached its peak, to rejuvenate themselves with small portions of food before they headed out for the afternoon labour. It was a tiring work, farming. One that had to be undertaken for the preservation of Nippon's future. Her life was precious to all. Perhaps that made it easier to understand how farmers held more prestige in the eyes of the public here than everywhere else. Being lower-borne was a consequence of fate. But the farming communities across the land were the backbone of its success. Such a thing at least allowed them small amounts of respect in a public majority. Not overtly so... but... enough to sustain a content existence on the fields for most common folk. But not everywhere. And most certainly not in Hyuga. Above the long stretch of farming lands and shacks was a large rise of stone. Like a hillock. One that had been forged into the highway by the breath and steel of the Gods. And in the face of that stone hillock was the path that entered the northern highway. From here on in the hill sloped downwards. And in the horizon, the small Joukamachi of Natsumura could be seen. A solitary figure strode softly down the tracks leading to Natsumura Village. That person's body was obscured in the length of a cloak, one that stretched from the shoulders down to the small feet that walked along the highway on a small pair of waraji. On this stranger's head was a straw-basin hat that obscured the traveller's face from sight. But not the long flow of hair that stretched down the back of that person cloak. Hair of a chestnut brown, tied into an elongated and loose ponytail The stranger looked to the left of their shoulder and saw farmers hard at work on the fields. Beyond them were the rather mountainous hills that overlooked the other han of the Hyuga domain. It was strange to think that over 200 years ago such a peaceful country as this was embroiled in the bloody fires of war. Tokugawa rule had done much to bring sanity and peace back to the countryside. But with all forms of peace came their price. An indifference to the suffering of others, those of the lower-borne, and a stringent system of control over the lives of the people, even the those of the many daimyo aligned with the shogunate. What was the cost of Nippon's peace? While the people here believed themselves to be building a future for their children and their grandchildren, they were stuck in status. Paralysed by the will of the Edo power-base. But then the traveller's head returned leisurely back to the pass. And they made their way down the dusty stone highway until, fifteen minutes later, that stranger was surrounded by the sights, sounds and smells of the small and quaint Natsumura Village. Women buzzed around the dirt tracks of the village, doing odd jobs. Be it fetching water from the nearby well or carrying bundles of washed clothing for their families. Some stood at the stalls of the markets, exchanging their rice, if not ryo, for goods. Natsumura Village, and all its wooden buildings, covered no more than half a mile of territory. But it was a domain with a high percentage of rice production, even if the lands owed to the han were small with comparison to others. Because of this, the small but lavish castle of this han's daimyo, Satou Genpachiro, left little to be desired. The samurai of the daimyo dotted the streets of the village. All of them possessed of the daisho and garbed in informal blue kimono. While the city of Edo had the doshin and the yoriki as their chief constabulary, the vast extent of many han of the land, from north to south, east to west, had the castle samurai for that job. It was a common and unshakable custom. But not a particularly welcomed one. A display of that situation was just now taking place. "Stupid commoner! How dare you not pay me the proper respect I'm owed?" The stranger halted in their pass through the streets of Natsumura, and turned to see two of the castle samurai stationed in the village. They stood aggressively before two people. A young man, a farm hand, and an even younger woman beside him. The farmer boy was on the floor, his kimono covered in dirt. While one of the two castle samurai stood above him, leaning from the waist and arm pulled inward, as if to draw one of his blades. The young girl, who could have been no more than eighteen or nineteen years of age, kneeled down to the downed man's side and held him protectively. "Please, sir!" She yelled desperately, "forgive my brother! Farm work has been harder and harden in the han since last year! He is just tired and confused! Oh please won't you pardon him? Just this once?" The brother of the girl, Takahiro, frowned. "Shut up, Nanase! I won't have you making any excuses for me! Are you really content to sit and bow at the feet of these Tokugawa-boot-licking pigs? I'll not have it!" The first of the castle samurai scowled and withdrew the second of his blades, the smaller and lighter wakizashi, causing a unified gasp from the commoners around who watched this all take place. "You loud-mouthed peasant scum! Do you even know who I am? I am the chief warden of Katsubana-jo! I cater directly to Lord Satou himself! And you refuse to pay me the proper respect? Such arrogance is intolerable! Know your ignorance!" The one called Nanase shrieked in fear as the castle samurai brought up his blade to strike down her brother. The swift blade came downwards in that instant. But there was a severe flash of momentum in the split-second action. A blurred image of a warrior thrust itself in between the castle samurai and the brother and sister. The clash of steel meeting steel was then heard throughout the vicinity. And when the dust at the sandals of all were settled, Takahiro was unharmed. The two violent swordsman serving Lord Satou stood silently in confusion as another made their appearance. One swift enough to deflect the slash. It was the stranger in the straw-basin hat. With a drawn katana in hand, the stranger spoke to the castle samurai with a surprisingly light tone of voice. "That is enough. You have every right to carry out Kirisutogomen upon this man after the comments he just made. But would you do so before the eyes of his innocent sister? Before the eyes of these common folk? Your duty is to defend the daimyo and set good example for those below your station, is it not? Then with all do respect, please display your eminence with mercy. Such a thing would contradict the claims of this man... and prevent a needless bloodshed, which, considering the severe expressions of the people around us; is something preferred." The second of the castle samurai sneered. Not only was this person armed, but also well spoken. "...Who are you? You bare arms, do you not? State your name and business here!" The cloaked stranger lowered their sword and sheathed it swiftly, revealing, if only for a brief moment, the fact that they wore the daisho in full. "...I have not come here for a fight. I am merely a bystander. But I would appreciate it if nothing more were said of this matter. Even if it means losing face..." The first castle samurai growled and lifted his blade upwards to provoke the stranger But when he did, the tip of his blade fell off. Takahiro, Nanase, and the two swordsmen looked on in disbelief. This stranger had hacked straight through the blade with no more than a sole stroke. The looks of arrogance on the faces of the two warriors then changed into ones of shock and horror. The stranger noticed this, but from the tone of voice used, did not seem to relish such a display of their own power. "Like I said," claimed the stranger, "I do not wish for a fight So please forgive the incursion of indignity by this man... on this occasion We needn't carry this out any further." The looks in their eyes suggested that this wasn't quite over yet, but it was foreshadowed by their following act. The two men rushed away, back into the direction of Katsubana-jo, the castle of the town. The villagers around were all stunned by this. Kirisutogomen was not a common act here, but it did happen from time to time. And on none of occasions did a castle samurai back down from the blade of a passer-by. But while the townsfolk went back to their everyday business, Nanase breathed a sigh of relief. Takahiro smiled and stood up from the ground, bowing to the stranger who had saved his life from the two swordsmen. Nanase was the first to address the traveller, however. "Thank you so much, sir" "It's not often the castle bushi turn tail and run like that," Takahiro added, "you must be quite a swordsman to resist such an attack, too. The samurai of Hyuga are famed across the land for being experts in street swordsmanship. But compared to you... so just who are you, sir?" The stranger lifted the straw hat from their head. And when Nanase and Takahiro saw the face of the one who had aided them, they both gasped. Not only was this person younger than Takahiro, that 'person'... was female. "...I am Shinmyouji Hinata of the Ennoichi Clan." Takahiro's smile transformed swiftly into a scowl. "A woman? A woman who bears the daisho? Is this a joke?" The wide green eyes of the woman known as 'Hinata' were closed in an intrinsic understanding of this man's point of view. She didn't agree with it. But things on mainland Nippon were never quite as simple as they were for her back home. A fact that her teachers never underestimated when they spoke of it. Not even... her. Hinata rested her straw hat back on her head and addressed the feisty Takahiro. "I do not expect you to understand in any case," Claimed Hinata, "but do you wish me to explain?" Takahiro scowled at that again. "Save it. I have no need for your explanations. What madness has befallen Nippon? To allow women such as yourself the right to bear arms and honest, hardworking men like myself denied?" Hinata smiled. The Tokugawa didn't 'allow' the adoption of the daisho to women, either. At least not outside the defence of the home. But a man such as this would never see the situation for what it was. Takahiro was still unwilling to listen to or even thank Hinata, and turned away from her in that moment, snorting. "I'm going home, Nanase," He told his sister, "Are you coming?" Nanase shook her head with a frown. "I wish to thank Miss Shinmyouji." Takahiro shook his head in exasperation. "Do as you wish." He then stomped off down the dirt tracks of the village. Towards his home on the edge of town. Both Hinata and Nanase watched him stalk off, but Nanase was the one most concerned. She was sure that fiery temper of her brother's was going to get him in trouble one day. But she could now at least amend his mistakes. Nanase turned to Hinata and bowed politely to her brother's saviour. "Many thanks for what you did," Said the girl, "and forgive my brother's rudeness. He really is under a lot of pressure. All the work on the land is getting to him. But... I must admit... it seems odd that a woman like myself carries swords." Hinata nodded. "I know. These lands are very set in their ways when it comes to this. And you needn't thank me. I did what anyone else would do in the given situation. Now... I need to find an Inn for the night." "No!" Nanase immediately kneeled down at the sandaled feet of Hinata, prostrating herself upon the dusty ground, "please, do not say such a thing! I beg you to except a token of my thanks! Please spend the night with my brother and I at our home! We do not have much in the way of food but I assure you, we will prepare something good for you to partake of! Please, Miss Shinmyouji, please stay with us." Well Hinata couldn't say that she didn't like the thought of saving some of her money (what little she had anyway). "...I do not think I would be very welcome at your home. Surely Takahiro would protest?" "Do not concern yourself with my brother," Nanase put forth, "the deed to our Father's home was left in his name. But even he would not refuse if he knew how important it was for me to do this. Please, Miss Shinmyouji" Hinata backed down in the end. Refusing her offer to stay would be rude now. And if it meant saving more ryo for her journey then she would have to do so. The female samurai kneeled herself and placed a hand on Nanase's shoulder. "Arise. If it means this much to you, then, I would be very honoured if you would allow me to board with you for the night." The cute and innocent smile on Nanase's face widened when she raised her head It meant a lot to her for Hinata to understand her gratitude. Even though her brother was a headstrong man, she loved him with her whole heart and soul. Hinata's saving of him put Nanase in her debt. And she felt it was her duty to repay part of that debt. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "As I said before, we do not have much. But please feel free to treat my home as if it were your own." At the centre of the small eating quarters of Nanase and Takahiro's home there was a small wooden table. Upon that table were a pair of worn chopsticks and a steaming bowl of rice. Just enough to fill the bowl to its rim. Topping off that bowl were a few wild peppers that had been cooked in oil. It was a small amount of food for anyone of Edo or Kyoto life. But in the famine-stricken regions to the far north and south, such a meal was considered large. Hinata bobbed her head with thanks to the beautiful young woman Nanase, whom had prepared this for her. Then she assumed the seiza and separated the sticks. Hinata plucked out a portion of the rise and ate. Nanase looked to see her reaction. A small smile was tugged from the quiet Hinata's lips. Indicating to the other girl that her cooking was up to snuff. While she ate, the brown-haired samurai looked around this small three-part home she was now in. This place was surprising well kept and furnished. The floors were smooth polished boards, and the structure of the building was firm on wood. It was quite unlike the ramshackle homes of other peasantry. But there was one thing that Hinata took deep notice of. Across from them on the other side of the room was a little stone shrine which held up two swords. A sheathed katana and a sheathed wakizashi. They looked to be of a fine make. More than just a piece of ornamental paraphernalia. It took a moment for Nanase to realize that Hinata was staring at the two swords while she ate. But the cook soon caught on. "Are you wondering about those?" "...Yes," Hinata affirmed, "are they...?" "Battle swords? Uh huh. They belonged to my Father. And also his Father. In fact, those two swords, Gouken and Goutetsu, have been passed down my family for generations. You see they belonged to our ancestors. Who fought in the Sekigahara battle more than 200 years ago. The swords were then handed down our family for years. Until the famine in the north forced us to flee to the south. However after the leave, my grandfather was discovered to have been born a bastard. Which meant that he could not wield our family's swords. Our family line was expelled But the legitimate line died out eventually. It left the swords in our hands, but... we are still forbidden by tradition to use them." Hinata finished chewing on one batch of rice. "I see. So you belong to a samurai family, do you?" "Well, we used to," Nanase replied, "when our bloodline was declared illegitimate we were forced into poverty. And since no one of that lineage was left to us, my brother and I have no real choice but to live like this. Now we are forbidden to even use our own family name." It was a story that Hinata understood. And it explained things. Like the finesse of their home. Or how someone as articulate and mannerly as Nanase and Takahiro could live amongst the peasantry so seamlessly. The famines and the heavy taxation on the land and its people had done much to cause tragedies such as these. While the Hyuga region was doing fairly well for itself, other places were not so lucky. A new layer of discontent and anger was boiling inside the people. Fuelling energetic young men like Takahiro to take a stand. Ever since the Hitotsubashi line of the Tokugawa had inherited control over the shogunate, that rabid entity of ire had been growing. A unified voice, particularly in the south, was taking shape. One that called for greater understanding of the plight of the hyakushou, more lenient levels of taxation, better freedom of movement, and an end to the rising levels of corruption rife in the heart of the bakufu. Nippon was reaching a new age One where the former firm strength of shogunate was beginning to unravel. People were looking towards Kyoto and the Emperor now. They were a silent and covert force But Hinata knew in her heart that they were a force that was deeply prevalent in society. But she also knew that Nanase was not concerned with those details. Her mind was firmly set on the safety of her brother. As it was, family was the only thing left in the world that remained truly precious. ...In any case. "This rice is delicious." Hinata complimented. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ To the northeast of the Natsumura village residential area was the small but beautiful castle known as Katsubana-jo. The castle from which this han's daimyo, Satou Genpachiro, ran the business of the region. Along the short and sturdy ishigaki of the outer courtyard, stood the castle guards of famed repute in the village. Beneath the protection of the swords and fire sticks of over eighty foot guards, the daimyo was considered untouchable in the han. At least from the peasants In the keep of the castle, the central building of the compound, was the meeting hall where the daimyo himself would speak with his advisors and those who wished to have audience with him. Katsubana-jo's meeting hall was of the same extravagant style as the rest of the castle. Full of poetic wall scrolls on life and the teachings of Zen. It was generally known that Lord Satou was an incompetent swordsman, but his zealous admiration of the art didn't seem to be fazed by it. In this day and age, the daimyo had little need even to study combat techniques. Such was the strength of the Bakufu's enforced peace. Satou sat on the small oak relief chair at the head of the hall, while his eight most loyal retainers sat by the walls in the seiza, four to the left and four to the right. Satou tapped his fan against his knee whilst watching the two other men in that room. The two samurai who had threatened to kill the young man Takahiro in the village. They both kneeled before their master loyally. In their hearts they knew what was about to happen here. Satou's eyes rolled down to the prone men just five metres ahead of his feet "Let me comprehend this. An unknown swordsman interfered with the implementation of my laws and you allowed that said man to walk away on two able legs?" The second castle guard lowered his head. "...I am sorry, milord. It was wrong of us to flee." "Yes," Agreed the first, the castle warden, "I apologize, sir" Satou frowned menacingly at the pair of them. "What pathetic, disloyal bushi have I nourished in the confides of my own castle, to allow their lord to be debased in public like this?" "We have no excuse," Claimed the first swordsman, "but the skills of that samurai were of such a fine calibre... I do believe we would have met with defeat if we were to..." Then he silenced himself, knowing what he had just revealed. And that was the end of that. The surrounding retainers stared at the two with anger and pity, while Satou looked away with a pompous snort. With one slap of his knee by the closed fan, the daimyo had cast his verdict upon the two. "You both have displeased me. Ascend to Buddha's grace if you wish to assuage my anger." The look of sadness and understanding was mirrored on the faces of the failed bushi They knew what they had to do now. The first one nodded to the lord and withdrew the wakizashi of his arms. He held his sword in a two-handed grip, poised before his torso with the tip of the blade pressing against his lower stomach. The castle warden grit his teeth and thrust the blade inwards. It stabbed through his kimono and into his belly. Blood now began darkening the blue material of his bodily clothing But it was merely a superficial wound. The look of agony on the face of the nameless warden grew when he slowly dragged the sharp edge of the blade across the stretch of his stomach, gradually increasing the length of the wound and blood-flow from said wound. Inch by inch he sliced open his own belly, ripping apart flesh on the edge of cold steel. Until it was no more. Blood gushed downwards from the folds of the warden's kimono, seeping onto the mat he kneeled on. Eventually his eyes became bloodshot. And the weakness of his grip on his sword became evident from the shaking of his hands. He coughed up shots of blood which splattered over his chest and the floor. Moments later he toppled over before the sight of the lord and his eight retainers, as well as the fellow samurai beside him. Lord Satou's gaze turned to him, also. And the second samurai, stunned by the death and courage of the first, knew his task. He breathed a deep breath and withdrew his katana from its sheath. Like the one before him he stabbed himself with a shallow blow on one side of his stomach. And following that he dragged the blade across In one bloody, painful and faintly ritualistic act, the second man took his life Only to have his lifeless upper torso collapse into a pool of his own blood. Lord Satou rolled his eyes once more. It was not the first time he had had his men perform sokotsu-shi via seppuku in the name of his public honour, and it would not be the last. His indifference was quite telling of the fact. "So. Tell me. Was what they spoke of true? Was this nameless warrior as skilled as they seem to have suggested?" One of his loyal retainers nodded, answering. "Yes, sir. The man is of a small build but was rather quick according to our eyewitness accounts. It has been merely a few hours since the altercation but some of our sources suggest that the people have been rather vocal about it." "Confounded fools," Satou sneered, "like lost sheep they scuttle to the heels of anyone akin to the shepherd. They already have that blasted Kagami boy fuelling their imagination. Now another seeks to assume the same position?! Tell me, who is this interloper?" "That is unknown, sir," Remarked one of the other retainers, "this man appears to be a mere ronin. But the circumstances behind that fate are as yet a mystery to us. All we know about him is that he is skilled. Perhaps more so than Kagami Hayate is." Lord Satou growled under his breath. "Is that so? Well then. Like any other problematic brigand, I will have to make an example of him. Assemble a small group of men. No more than four or five. Then send them out to the village. Once this ronin is spotted I want him killed in that instant." It was an understood order. The people were in need of a light to guide them throughout what they believed to be darkness. If insurrection was to be prevented then that light had to be snuffed out before anyone was aroused by it. Meanwhile, the lord had other issues to attend to. Satou, confidently ignoring the warm corpses that were now spreading their blood all over the floor of his meeting hall, slapped his thigh with his fan and spoke up again. "Regardless of that. How goes the plan?" Another of the retainers answered him. "All is well, sir. No one suspects a thing The strengthening of rice production has increased significantly since last year's harvests. The value of that surplus will be magnified once the rice is sold to the struggling regions around us." "Perfect," Claimed the daimyo, "those vile, bastard chonin are good for something at least. An excess of 5,500 koku would certainly improve my standing as a daimyo of the bakuhan... by why let the shogunate loot our coffers with a higher tansen in result of that? The amount of ryo to be generated from this endeavour would go towards the strengthening of the han as well as my house. As long as we keep our wits about us..." "However, sir," When another of the eight retainers addressed him, Satou turned to his left and heard the continuation of what he wanted to say, "we must be very alert now. One of our spies in the capital have discovered that a ninja has been deployed to Hyuga. Seemingly with the purpose of investigating the unrest of the villagers. While this may or may not be true, it should stand to notice that the supposed shadow is of the Kakatsuki Ninja Group." A chorus of whispers emanated from the mouths of the seven other retainers. Lord Satou slapped his leg with his fan again to silence them. Then questioned the comment "Do you mean the blood descendants of the remnant ninja forces of Iga?" The retainer nodded. "Yes, sir." Satou mused on this new detail. The Kakatsuki Ninja Group were the progeny of the Iga ninja power-base. The one that was so ruthlessly smashed by the legendary Oda Nobunaga. Rumours had been rife that the shogunate now used the Kakatsuki Ninja Teams in secret to help maintain the force of the bakuhan through reconnaissance Now it seemed that those rumours were quite true. But Satou just smiled, plucking at one end of his thin moustache. "You all needn't worry. If the bakufu has levied the mobilization of a shinobi to investigate Natsumura, we will simply have to step up our efforts. And if that ninja happens to discover something... they will have to be disposed of..." His sight then turned to the south of the room, as did the sight of the retainers. They all looked to the door which was slid open to allow some other person in. A samurai. Fully dressed in the kamishimo, but owning only one lengthened sword, a nodachi called the Izata, this man chuckled. His head lowered with the action which caused his gigantic mane of smog-green spiky hair to thrash behind him. Though the looks of disgust on the faces of the retainers proved that he was not well liked, the smouldering emerald aura about the person of the samurai clearly showed his strength. This man was Minagawa Ryouichi. But he was better known to people by the nickname of 'Teppo Satsujin-hannin'. The Gun Murderer. And he was now the current Yojimbo of Lord Satou himself. "Heh, heh, heh," Laughed the sneaky Satou, "the Shogun may illustrate his dominance over the other daimyo with his thousand eyes... but if worst comes to worst... I'll just have to pluck out one of those eyes."
Back to Circle of One: Asuka Monogatari Index - Back to Original Fiction Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction