Side Story #13: Nishi's Family

<Author’s note: This story takes place before the events of Book 1.>

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

Side Story 13: Nishi’s Family

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

■■ Yamato ■■

“Thou makest quite the proposal, Lady Hayashi. Are thee quite certain that I am a suitable candidate? Perhaps I am unready,” suggested a teenaged girl with soft and elegant words. They were forced and fake, just like her smile and obedient bow. Noriko may have been the daughter of a samurai, but dining at expensive tea houses with wrinkled old ladies was not her idea of a good time.

“On the contrary! There is much potential in you, Lady Noriko. No doubt due to your pedigree—of which we have your dearest father to thank!” The older woman giggled and grinned towards the third occupant of the table. “Lord Morita, I speak for all the instructors at the Lioness Institute for Charm and Etiquette when I say that you daughter will be welcomed with open arms! Our finishing school boasts a flawless rate of marriage arrangements within one year of graduation!”

Noriko had to bite her tongue to hold back a groan. If there was any respite, it was in the steamed dumplings that were on the plate in front of her. They were what the Sleeping Duck was known for and were the only reason she’d bothered to dress up and show up to this meeting in the first place. But while she was eager to dig in, Noriko couldn’t get her chopsticks out in time before a withered hand fell on her sleeve.

“A lady eats only after the gentlemen are finished, Noriko-san. This is but one lesson of many you shall learn in our decorum classes.” Lady Hayashi smiled the sort of smile that made one’s face especially punchable, or so Noriko thought. She was starving and her father was a pig. Not to mention there was nothing sadder than a cold dumpling.

“Nori-chan, tis past time to consider thy future,” said Lord Morita between bites. “Thou mother and I worry upon what crowds thee involve thyself in. Becoming a proper lady and marrying a famous samurai shall bring great honor to our clan. It is thy duty to our family, just as it is thy younger brother’s path to follow the way of the sword.”

The way of the sword sure sounded a hell of a lot more appetizing to Noriko than the way of the old maid did. Unlike every other samurai daughter her age, marriage had no appeal to her—and neither did men for that matter. Her focus was elsewhere: currently, it was on the young waitress who served their table.

She was Noriko’s age and had a habit of playing with her hair, and was shy but stole glances at her direction from time to time. She was too young to be a geisha, more likely an apprentice in training. She was clumsy, too—which would end up cutting this meeting blissfully short.

“Oh no, no-no-no!” the waitress cried out as she tripped towards their table. In her hands was a tray with a hot kettle of tea along with a second helping of dumplings. Noriko dodged the kettle but the lady beside her wasn’t as lucky nor as agile, and got boiling hot green tea got all over her silk kimono.

“Eiiiiyah?!” she screeched in what was hardly ladylike fashion. But while she was busy being outraged, Noriko was busy with the waitress who had fallen atop her. The girl was even cuter up close, but what caught her eye was what ran down her neck.

“Is that...ink on her skin? Cherry blossoms?” Noriko had never seen such a thing before and was intent on examining the waitress further. But she wouldn’t get her chance—Lady Hayashi grabbed the waitress by the ear and almost twisted it off.

“How dare you! You unscrupulous wench!” The older woman raised a hand as if to slap her, but then came to her senses upon noticing the commotion she was causing. She forced out a fake giggle, released the ear, and bowed to Lord Morita. “Ahem. I do apologize for my unbecoming outburst. I’m afraid I must retire for the evening, as it won’t do for a lady to be seen in such...unpleasant circumstances.”

She bowed as low and stiffly as she could, considering that hot tea was running down her legs. Noriko wanted to thank the waitress for her mistake, but she had already been taken away to be scolded by the staff. She was alone with her father—and they rarely saw eye-to-eye.

“I have decided that thee will enlist in this institute, Nori-chan. Furthermore, I forbid thee from socializing with those beneath thy station.” Lord Morita spoke of a familiar point of contention between the two. Noriko had friends outside the offspring of samurai. “Thy shall be under strict curfew so long as thee are a member of my household. Understand?”

Noriko’s patience snapped along with her chopsticks, the latter of which she wedged into the last dumpling and ate it. “To hell with thee! And with the old hag, too! I shall do whatever the fuck I wish!”

Lord Morita nearly choked. “I forbear thee speak such maledictions in my presence!”

“Then I’ll gladly rid myself of yours!” Noriko yelled, storming out of the Sleeping Duck. She was pissed off and hungry, but tired most of all. It wasn’t exhaustion that fatigued her but the dull monotony of upper-class life. Sneaking out at night to watch gamblers toss dice and geisha seduce drunkards was all the fun there was to be had in Yamato. It was the most boring city you could live in—of that much, the young woman was certain.

At times like these, Noriko went where she always did: to a nearby lumber mill. It was abandoned at this time of night, and had plenty of trees in need of becoming logs and axes to help make it happen.

After tying up her hair, pulling up her kimono’s sleeves, and spitting in her hands, Noriko grabbed an axe and started to get to work. Though she wasn’t getting paid for it, when it came to venting her anger, chopping wood was second to none. It helped even more when she imagined her father’s face on them.

*chop* *chop* *chop*

Noriko had been sneaking off to do this for quite some time, enough for rumors of a ghost haunting the mill to have taken root. It was also enough time for her to develop her strength, of which had grown in leaps and bounds beyond what any lady should possess. The young woman had the strength and temperament of an enraged bear, and used both to wedge the axe clean through the oaken log.

*WHOMP*

The two halves of the log fell. Noriko wiped her arm across her forehead only to realize she hadn’t broken a sweat. At this rate it would take a dozen trees and all night to wear herself out. Cursing at herself and the world, the girl reached over to pick up another log from the stack. Wasn’t hard to imagine her surprise when she saw the waitress there waiting with a tea set.

“What the—?!” Noriko jumped back and flailed her axe around by instinct. She grew embarrassed, too, to be seen amidst her hidden hobby. The waitress quickly went into a series of bows, apologizing before introducing herself.

“I’m so sorry! I ruined your meeting earlier—I’m such a ditz.” She sniffled. “My name is Keiko...I hope you don’t mind me following you. I just wanted to apologize...for being so useless. I came from Jijinto to learn how to be a proper lady, yet I can’t even serve one!”

Noriko looked around. Keiko seemed to be alone. “If thee are suggesting that I am a proper lady, thou art mistaken. I am but...what is it thee finds so humorous?”

Keiko held a hand to lips in a failed attempt to hide her giggle. “Please forgive me, Lady Noriko. It is just that your accent...is very unique. It is very different than the girl who speaks it.”

Noriko spat on the ground and grimaced. “I hate how I sound! And that’s not all I hate.” The samurai’s daughter looked at her father’s corpse in the form of a broken log. “Thou came to the capital to become a lady, correct?” Noriko brought a hand to her chin and went deep into thought. 

What came to mind was a plan: one to escape the likes of Lady Hayashi and the old maids at the institute. “Then here is what we shall do: myself and thee will swap places! Thou will enroll in my place, and I shall take up thy duties in yours.”

Keiko’s eyes and lips went wide. “But we mustn't! We couldn’t! I work and live with types a person of your class would deem...unsavory. It would not do for a samurai’s daughter to associate with them. My father and my family, they’re yaku—”

“It matters not to me what they are,” Noriko grinned as she hefted up her axe above her shoulders, preparing to cut this next log in a single blow. “Hyah!” Noriko shouted, and after making several more pieces of firewood, she tossed the axe aside.

“Show up here tomorrow at dawn. I’ll have thy kimono ready for thee, Lady Keiko.”

■■■■

After the exchange was made the next day, Noriko made her way to the city’s Old Temple Town district. From what the waitress had told her, Keiko worked with a group of mostly unskilled laborers tasked with jobs that changed from day to day. Today’s work involved painting and repairing the Koi Fish Temple.

“Just my luck. Had to be my family’s spirit animal,” Noriko grumbled as she made her way to the dilapidated shrine. She had never been to this one nor knew it existed, as her family had always prayed and donated to the newer shrine in New Temple Town. This one didn’t get many visitors—the stench of dead fish was probably one of the reasons why.

“Kuso! And here I signed up for this ‘ere Yamato trip to escape the smell of dead fish! How much longer is the boss keepin’ us ‘ere?” The grumbling came from a giant of a man, who was tall even while he was sitting down being lazy. He was bald and spoke with an accent Noriko had never heard before.

“This must be what they sound like in Jijinto, the big city,” Noriko thought to herself. Though she tried to be confident, her usual swagger had become more of a timid strut. The entire group consisted of fearsome-looking men, with all of them muscled and many of them scared. Oddly enough, none of them were shirtless. The reason had nothing to do with fear of getting sunburned.

Eventually, one of the more attentive laborers who were lazing about spotted her. “Hey, it’s Keiko! How are...wait’ah second.” The man looked Noriko over and sneered. “Shrine’s closed for repairs. Beat it.”

Noriko had never been looked at that way before, nor had she ever been told to ‘beat it’—she didn’t know what that meant. She just knew the way he had said it pissed her off, and when the daughter of Lord Morita got angry...well, no hell had equal fury.

“Repairs? I see naught but a group of Jijinto lowlives being both idle and incompetent! Keiko-chan was right to leave thee behind!”

The lowlives jumped to their feet in unison and put on their ugliest scowls. Noriko knew the look—every man and woman had one, but only the poorest let you see theirs freely. In this screwed up world only the poorest could afford to be truly honest. To be truly free.

“Daisuke, you hearin’ this bitch? She’s callin’ us stupid!”

“We’s not stupid!” said the giant named Daisuke. “An’ Keiko would never leave us! We an’ her are family...so screw off before I grind ya’ to pieces!”

A fire lit up in Noriko’s eyes. It may have been figurative but it burned all the same; its fuel was adrenaline, the tension of battle. For the first time in the young woman’s life, she felt stress—more than that, she felt danger. She was undersized, unarmed and outnumbered. Every second felt like a lifetime as the group of Jijinto thugs encircled her.

That was when she discovered that she lived for moments like these.

“Thou art but a bunch of bastards! Come at me!” Noriko yelled and laughed, charging at the first thug in a bull rush that caught him off guard. He thought he was safe once he had recovered and halted her charge. He wasn’t. Noriko wrapped her arms low, behind his knees, flipping him down hard into the koi pond.

*SPLASH*

The others hesitated, looking at each other for guidance. There wasn’t a single leader among them, least of all the bald giant. Noriko taunted him into a fight. “Daisuke, was it? Are thee a man or an oversized baby?”

“G-go to hell!” yelled the giant, who came tumbling forth. He had picked up a plank of wood just as large as Noriko was, and even the enraged daughter of a samurai began to grow weary. She had neither a defense nor a weapon—though upon seeing a nearby stone, she opted to use it for both.

“AaarGh,” Noriko grunted as she hefted up the stone. It was smooth save for an odd engraving and immensely large, making it difficult to get a good grip. But with the adrenaline of battle flowing through her, the young woman hefted up the large rock over her shoulders just in time to shield her from Daisuke’s overhead blow!

*THUNK*

The stone held and so did its wielder, though her sandals were now in inch deeper into the ground. The plank of wood bounced back and out of the giant’s hands. Daisuke was forced backwards from the force and ended up tripping on his own feet.

But the battle only truly ended when a shriveled priest came out from inside the shrine.

He gasped in shock, though not in anger at a brawl atop holy grounds. He was amazed at Noriko, who still held the large stone above her head. “That is...impossible! My eyes, have they failed me? What you are holding is our famed chikaraishi stone, girl. Only one man—one legend has been able to pick up this stone before. I never thought to see it lifted again in my life!”

With the battle seemingly over, the adrenaline faded and the weight atop her shoulders was now far too much for Noriko to carry. She let it drop, and inspected the engraving carved into it. She let out a gasp and then a groan at what she saw. It was a name—and not just any.

“Yusuke Morita. My great grandfather...the founder of our clan, and the man my family is obsessed with.”

Noriko decided it was an odd coincidence and nothing more. The thugs around her were still angry but more than that—they were impressed. They quickly grew out of their grudge and instead turned their focus to the test of strength in front of them.

One by one, each man from Jijinto tried and failed to lift up the chikaraishi stone. Daisuke was the last one to try, the effort turning his face every shade from pink to purple but to no avail. It was hilarious; both the men and Noriko joined together in a hearty laugh at the giant’s expense.

“For a highbred dame, ya’ ain’t too bad,” one suggested.

“If the boss’s daughter likes you—shit, so do we,” said another. “Come to think of it...Keiko did say somethin’ about a girl comin’ over for work. Yo, Daisuke—think she’s strong enough to help us?”

The bald giant was still panting from his earlier efforts. He nodded and agreed once he found the breath for it. “Yeah, okay.”

■■■■

Noriko returned back to the lumber mill that night with a spring in her step. Though her shoulders were sore she felt numb to all pain. After fighting with the men from Jijinto, she had proceeded to work all day with them: listening to their vulgar stories while they cussed and complained about anything and nothing at all. Subjects from wives to samurai were all fair game. Noriko felt a sort of kinship with them even though their lives and upbringings were so drastically different.

Keiko was already there waiting for her. It took three yells to catch her attention—the waitress was occupied with her thoughts. While Noriko thought it was cute, she needed to get home before her dad got suspicious. She had to learn all she could about Keiko’s first day at the Lioness’s Institute for Charm and Etiquette if she was going to fool her father.

“Oh...the institute is very big, and the girls there are all very pretty. I am certain I will learn a lot there, thank you again for the opportunity,” Keiko bowed, though winced as she did. “But what about you? Did the boys give you trouble? I told them you were coming...but they aren’t the best listeners.”

Noriko assured her that after an initial misunderstanding, everything when well. The two agreed to continue their scheme, and separated in time for supper. While Noriko was an expert in entering her family’s mansion unnoticed, she felt no reason for subterfuge this early in the evening. Not to mention the sight of a few priests in a heated discussion with her father caught her attention.

She put her ear against the living room’s shoji door and listened.

“...not a matter of if, but when! The boy has it—tis truly a gift from the spirits!”

“But how will this affect his training as a samurai? How long must he remain in confinement?”

“It is a necessary precaution, Lord Morita. The powers flowing through Fumihiro-kun are as great a danger to himself as they all to everyone around him.”

Noriko had heard enough. She didn’t understand what was going on, but—like all her other problems in life—she decided to face it head-on. She marched over to her younger brother’s room and slid open the door.

Or at least she tried to. It was jammed.

“What the...hell is...this shit?!” Noriko cursed as she tried and failed to slide open the door. It was a shoji door, which weren’t known for being locked, but they were known for being made of paper. Noriko was about to dive into the thing shoulder-first when a hand on that very shoulder stopped her.

It was her father. “Nori-chan. You must leave Fumi-kun alone for now. His powers as a...a shugenja are awakening.”

“A shugenja?” Noriko asked in astonishment. Fumihiro was her baby brother, known for writing on the walls and eating his boogers. For him to have magical powers...well, the spirits were certainly fickle. “That’s...great! That’s even more prestigious than a samurai, ain’t—*cough*—isn’t that right?”

The priests agreed, the two of them jumping like schoolchildren at the start of summer vacation. While Noriko wasn’t overwhelmed with glee, having a sibling with magical powers seemed to have more benefits than downsides. The only one who showed no hint of excitement was Lord Morita, who waited until after the priests left to explain why.

“The cost of admittance into the Academy is not cheap. Our family’s funds are...not in the best of shape, yet Fumihiro’s future must always come first,” said her father, who paced about the living room.

“Then I shall leave the Institute at once. Fumi-kun’s education is what matters,” replied Noriko, being especially thoughtful of her bratty little brother. “I could even work a job to help with—”

“Out of the question! Thee shall not shame our family with such nonsense!” Lord Morita paced a little faster before suddenly coming to a stop. “That’s it. I’ve a friend who owns a real estate business in the city. He should be able to help.”

Noriko left her father to his schemes, or whatever it was samurai did when they no longer had wars to fight and battles to win. The man was insufferable but at least he put his family first. And speaking of family, it was time Noriko caught up with her younger brother.

She knocked on the door twice, then three times, then two more, then just once. It was their code—it was how Fumihiro knew it was her. It was stupid and silly, but all kids were.

“Art thou there, Onee-san? I’m so bored. How was thy day at school?”

Noriko sat down beside the door and proceeded to lie as she always did. Much as she would’ve loved to tell Fumihiro the truth, the boy had a habit of telling his mother anything and everything—especially in regards to Noriko’s unladylike behavior.

“Is all well, sister?” asked the boy after hearing Noriko’s tall tale. “Thy voice is different and thy dialect sounds unfamiliar. Could thou perhaps be sick?”

Noriko let out a giggle. “Maybe I am...but I’ve never felt better, Fumi-kun. Now go get some sleep. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

■■■■

“Come on you prickless pansies, time’s up!” barked a young woman with a wooden club resting on her shoulder. “Pay your tabs and get the hell out! And don’t forget to tip.”

The group of Jijinto lowlives were currently working for a local brothel in the capital. They weren’t working in the sense that required Daisuke to doll himself up in makeup, but instead they were hired muscle to make sure no samurai snuck out without paying for services rendered.

One such samurai approached the woman in charge, hiccuping and staggering about as he did so. He was impressively drunk for it being so early in the evening. “I’ve gottaaa tip for you, dear! Hehe-heh-heh-heh!”

The young woman flipped him a rude gesture, then told him where she was about to stick the club of hers if he took a step forward. To her displeasure, he stopped where he was and squinted his eyes.

“Heeey now, you look familiar. What’s your—*hiccup*—name?”

She cursed below her breath and then above it. This was one of her uncles. “The name’s Nishi. Now if you’re not here to screw one of the working girls, then screw off.”

“Heh-heh-heh, oh but I am!” the drunk samurai reached out to grab Nishi’s arm, but his hand never got that far. The samurai’s daughter swung her club in what was now a well-practiced motion, smacking the offending hand away and turning it an unsightly shade of purple.

“Boys! Get this bushido bastard outta here!” she ordered, and two of the Jijinto men picked up her uncle and tossed him out into the streets. The group was rough—far rougher than what Yamato was used to—but nobody questioned their results. Nobody dared. They were effective, especially with Nishi at command.

Daisuke, the young woman’s second-in-command, let out a gulp. “You sure has changed a lot since ya’ joined with us, Noriko. I—I mean, Nishi.” The giant scratched his head after misspeaking. Noriko wasn’t a name Nishi answered to, not during working hours. “You know ‘ah, our boss is comin’ in tonight, and he’s sure to be impressed with all ya’ done for us. But uh, about Keiko…”

The giant trailed off into silence. Nishi hadn’t seen Keiko for a few days, though every time she had the girl seemed very distant. Which was a shame because Nishi still had a crush on her.

“Out with it, Daisuke. We ain’t got time to waste pissin’ around.”

In her usual blunt and vulgar way, she convinced Daisuke to open up. Apparently it wasn’t just her that Keiko had been distant to—the lady-in-training had been spending less and less time with the boys, hardly saying a word and going straight to bed after school. The giant even swore he heard her crying in her room once, and that was enough to upset Noriko.

And these days, when Noriko got upset, Nishi took over. And Nishi was a real bitch that you didn’t want to mess with. “You take over here, Daisuke. I’m going to pay this Institute a visit.”

■■■■

The perfectly maintained gardens of the Lioness’s Institute for Charm and Etiquette were impressive, if you cared about that sort of thing. Nishi didn’t. Inside those gardens were tables with tea sets and ladies enjoying a cup of expensive tea before retiring back to their houses to eat a dinner that someone else had made and that their daddies had paid for.

It was such a soft and easy life. It bred weakness and boredom—neither of which described Nishi. Not anymore. Every day was an adventure with new challenges, new fights, and new battles. With her crew behind her, she felt invincible.

But she was alone this time. She wasn’t invincible and that was fine by her. A bit of pain never killed anyone. But the pain she was about to feel wasn’t the sort she was prepared for.

Nishi came upon a group of girls giggling especially loud in a corner of the courtyard. After wading through a couple of squared hedges, she saw that there were three of them--and that none of them were Keiko. Even still, she stuck around to see what was the source of their laughter.

“Huehuehue, you are correct, Madoka-chan, the furniture is performing quite well as a cushion! It’s far less noisy than it was on the first day,” remarked a young lady who took a sip of tea out of a silver cup. “Sawako-senpai, I believe we should test the furniture further. Take a seat beside me—I insist!”

The girls giggled. Only then did Nishi spot the cushion move, and only after that did realize the furniture was actually a person—and that person was Keiko!

“Wh-who is this? You are intruding upon our tea time! This area is reserved, I’ll have you know,” spouted one of the highborn brats upon seeing Nishi swagger towards them. She still had her club in hand, and wore a scowl that was nothing short of menacing. She walked over as the girls stayed where they were; they were paralyzed like rabbits at the sound of thunder.

Nishi placed her hand over the girl’s—the one who was holding onto the silver cup. She squeezed down hard, enough to elicit a welp from the highborn. “You stuck-up bitches think it’s funny to sit on people, do ya’? Treat them like they ain’t even human?!”

“AaaaaahH! AAAAH!” the rich girl screamed out as the silver cup folded in from the pressure clamping down on it. The hot tea within it came shooting up into the girl’s face, which was contorted with pain. Her plentiful makeup ran down her cheeks as tears flowed freely from her eyes.

Nishi yanked her off Keiko and tossed her to the ground. She grabbed the other two ‘ladies’ by the hair before they could make a break for it. She slammed their faces into a bed of thorny roses and shoved them in further for good measure. She landed one final kick in the first girl’s back before the three scampered off, sobbing all the while.

“There’s more where that came from, you samurai whores!” Nishi yelled after them and was about to give chase until an arm wrapped around hers and stopped her. Keiko looked both happy and sad to see her, and was unable to match Nishi’s gaze.

“When they...when they found out about my low birth, they threatened to expel you and report what we were doing to the authorities. I couldn’t let them bring shame to you and your family, Noriko-chan.” Keiko wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I had to do what they said.”

Nishi was pissed, but Noriko was relieved. Both sides of the young woman held Keiko tightly in her arms, and promised that this would never happen again. “Keiko-chan...you’ve been suffering all this for weeks, all for me…”

Nishi took Keiko’s hand in hers, determined to let her spend the night at her place. Though her parents wouldn’t have approved of a commoner, Keiko looked every bit like a delicate lady—she was short and cute and naturally more polite than Nishi could ever be. From what the boys mentioned of her, Keiko was something akin to Jijinto royalty.

But even royalty had trouble dealing with drunken samurai, of which Lord Morita now counted among their ranks. It was odd—in her sixteen years alive, Nishi hadn’t once recalled her father indulging in drink. But there he was, drinking and waiting at the front of the family’s mansion.

“Wondering when thouuu would showest up!” he slurred. “Who be that with thee? Take leave of my premises! This is the home of my father’s father, the great samurai Yusuke Moooorita!”

Nishi was about to object when Keiko apologized and bowed out as quickly yet as politely as she could. It left Nishi in a foul mood that only got fouler when she caught wind of her father’s rancid breath.

“What’s with you...with thee? Why does...thou reek of liquor? Answer me!” Nishi yelled, becoming Noriko once more as the two paced deeper into the living quarters. Lord Morita staggered back to the table, pouring himself another drink while managing to spill half of it out of the cup.

“It’s all over, Noriiiiii-chan,” Lord Morita said as he drowned his sorrows in saké. Almost literally—the alcohol went down the wrong pipe, and the samurai starting hacking up a cough. It was sad and pathetic, but seeing such a proud man in shambles was enough to give Noriko pause.

“What has happened, Father?”

Lord Morita brought his hands to his face and wept, confessing in between sobs. From what his daughter could gather, he had been taking for a fool—tricked into investing into a company and holdings that didn’t exist. He lost all the family’s savings because he was a gullible idiot, a shame to his father’s father and so forth.

“And...and dearest Fumi-kun. If he doesn’t get proper training at the Academy, he’ll be branded as a rogue shugenja! Spirits help him—they put bounties on those! Whua-whaaa!” Lord Morita cried.

Noriko felt more than a pang of remorse for the man, even if he was a fool and an overbearing father. And while Fumihiro was a snot-nosed brat, Noriko still loved him. They were her family, and if Noriko had learned anything from the thugs of Jijinto, it was that family always stuck together.

“If there’s anything I can do, Father. I will.”

Lord Morita wiped away his tears. He then tried to look his daughter in the eyes, but found himself unable to. His girl had changed into a woman, and a fearsome one at that. But a formidable woman was a woman all the same.

“There is. There is something thee can do for our family, Nori-chan.”

■■■■

The next day, Noriko and her father arrived at the Sleeping Duck. The samurai’s daughter was even more dressed-up than she had been during their visit weeks prior, at their meeting with Lady Hayashi of the Institute. Noriko even had makeup on as well; she was coated up prettier than a geisha.

“Are thee going to tell me why I had to spend two hours dressing up? I said I would help—but what are we doing here?” Noriko asked, giving the afternoon tea drinkers a scowl.

Lord Morita looked about the room with anxious glances, taking a seat and then nearly jumping out of it when their server arrived. But what was most suspicious was his order: no food, just the cheapest tea on the menu. For her father not to have an appetite meant something was especially wrong.

They sat in awkward silence until a pair of muscular men in ill-fitting kimonos arrived, claiming to be from the Yamagata family. Noriko could tell at a glance they were the sleazy type: criminals or close enough to it. They reminded her of the Jijinto men she had been working with—which wasn’t a compliment.

That a samurai of Lord Morita’s status was willing to share tea with them meant something was foul. Yet Noriko couldn’t piece it all together until one of the swindlers gave it away.

“Your daughter is quite the beauty, yessiree!” He whistled while looking Noriko over. “Say she’ll make a perfect bride fer the boss. Lord Yamagata ‘polozies fer not being here personally fer the marriage ‘rangements—but he’s already agreed!”

Noriko went lightheaded as she bolted upright in a single moment. She couldn’t believe what was going on here. She wanted to scream out but for once couldn’t find the words. She caught herself shaking, trembling in outrage.

“Y-you...thee...thee cannot be serious, Father! You would...thy would...sell thine own daughter?!”

“I am sorry, Nori-chan,” Lord Morita spoke meekly, looking down at his tea. “For Fumihiro and the future of the Morita line...thou hand must be given in marriage. Please understand my position.”

Noriko clenched her teeth down upon her tongue as she watched in silence as a large and heavy pouch of ryō exchanged hands from the Yamagata men to her father. “My hand given in marriage?! You bastard! I’m being sold!”

Noriko was stunned and Nishi—the part of her that took over at times like these—was nowhere to be found. This betrayal cut so deep that the samurai’s daughter did not fight back nor curse or even yell as the men escorted her to their carriage. She held back tears knowing that the man who had raised her had sold her off for but a handful of coins.

“I thought we were family...I thought…”

It could’ve been a minute or an hour that passed after that, as Noriko lost herself in her grief. She was alone and overwhelmed with sorrow on every side; she was a helpless girl, a bride to a monster, and a daughter to a man she now despised.

Yet not all of that was true. Because Noriko wasn’t alone and she wasn’t helpless. She was Nishi now, and with the Morita name gone that was all she was. Noriko was dead and that was fine by her, because Nishi always knew what to do. She was strong and tough and ruthless and mean. Enough to survive anything—including this.

When the carriage stopped, Nishi jumped out and took note of her bearings: she was in Old Temple Town, right outside the Koi Fish Temple where she and the boys worked weeks ago. The place still reeked of dead fish but the shrine was considerably cleaner than before.

“This Yamagata wants a wedding ceremony, huh?” Nishi cracked her knuckles. “Like hell!”

The first of the two didn’t have a chance before Nishi’s fist came down on him. She didn’t go for the face—she went much lower, to a spot between his legs. He howled out in pain while the other ran off into the shrine yelling for help.

“The bastard I got sold to is in there, is he? Good.” Nishi grinned as she swaggered inside. She was going to beat the snot out of him and every goon that got in her way. She psyched herself up as she marched in, prepared to fight for her freedom even if it cost her everything.

“Cause I got nothin’ left to fuckin’ lose!”

Rage and sorrow accompanied her into the temple’s main hall. Yet all three of them halted upon the sight inside: there was a gang of men waiting for her, all of them surrounding a man with a menacing aura around him. Though he was unlike any man Nishi had ever seen, the others were: they were the men from Jijinto she had worked with.

Yet they were shirtless now, though their skin was not bare: it was inked in various tattoos, from dragons to tigers to naked women, but featured most of all were cherry blossoms. The man at the center had symbols across his chest, which read ‘起死回生’.

“Wake from death and return to life? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nishi yelled, fearless even amidst the most powerful man in Jijinto. Though the underlings gasped, Lord Yamagata could only laugh.

“Lady Noriko...you are as spirited as I’ve heard. Please, step forth.” When she did, a short figure appeared from behind Lord Yamagata. It was Keiko who was smiling and waving. “I know what you did for my daughter, who speaks very kindly of you. And what you have done for my boys...who knew a samurai’s daughter was what it took to get them into shape!”

The carriage driver from earlier staggered in behind her, wincing as he did so. After explaining the misunderstanding from earlier, laughter broke out led by Lord Yamagata himself. He had a powerful voice and a presence that made even the most stubborn of men respectful. Same went for Nishi, too.

“You’re certainly a fighter, aren’t you? Well, anyway...you’re free to go. Us yakuza always pay our debts. What I gave your father was payment for the work you have done for us. You are free to return to your family.”

Nishi looked at Lord Yamagata, then at Keiko, then Daisuke and the rest of the boys. They were all smiling yet sad, many of them wishing her well. It was a hell of a scene, and a terrible time for tears to start welling in her eyes.

“I don’t have a family. Not anymore, boss,” Nishi said, sniffing and cursing under her breath. “So I was wonderin’ if...if you would take me in.”

Gasps and cheers broke out from the gang of criminals. They all silenced when Lord Yamagata raised a hand. He looked Nishi squarely in the eyes, keeping his gaze there for a minute or more. Nishi held the stare even as saltwater trailed down her cheeks.

“A yakuza fights not for honor or glory, but for family. Will you fight for us, Noriko?”

Nishi shook her head and grinned. “Noriko’s dead. I’m Nishi now, and I’ll fight any bastard who gets in our way!”