Kimura Amana
Morning
A Village at Edo Outskirts
There is silence, for a time. As much as there can be silence, in a caravan. The creaking of the wheels and hoofbeats on the ground, along with the various noises and grumbles of human life.
It is calming. As much as I, from upbringing as well as general inclination, enjoy calm solitude. I am at peace amongst the quiet presence of other human beings.
It is... soothing, in a way.
My feet still ache, however, and I am still unable to wash the lingering tension of battle from around my body.
I will likely require a bath and some true solitude to center myself.
We make our way through towards civilization, such as it is. Farmers and workers dotting the roads to the capital, murmuring and bowing as we passed. Instinct borne of experience mutters darkly at the sight of so much attention, but it is merely a matter of course, blood-stained guards around a well-protected wagon, lead by a well-dressed, bloodstained woman.
I sighed.
My mind was beginning to wander, I needed to focus.
Rising Sunbeams Reach
Quiet fades as the road goes
to Edo, the City.
I am nervous.
But what makes me nervous? The City, Court? The looming threat of dishonor and disgrace?
Many things.
The knowledge brought from clarity, albeit incomplete, brings some solace, and I settle into the brisk march onward.
Then, my instincts stir, and a queer, shiver-shock of alert quivers up my spine.
My head turns, there is a crowd forming, a group of men, thuggish and crude in dress and demeanor, surrounding a young lady, taller than me. Armed, as well.
Samurai-ko? No, lacks the proper poise.
Not police either, and isn't nearly aggressive or low enough to appear as yakuza.
A Ronin, perhaps?
It would not normally draw my attention, police would normally handle this sort of situation, and my duty called.
But.
But...
I felt that feeling, that pressure at my eyes.
Demon.
My pulse quickens and my eyes flit over the crowd. There is a stirring at the back of my mind.
My hunger is not yet sated, the malase, the uncertainty around my shoulders, it chafes at me.
I make a brief signal to the rest of my party, those aware of the hidden meaning behind the motion beyond 'stop' know of my intention and thoughts.
There is another duty I am tied to.
I shift my bearing once more, I make my way steadily towards the group, my gait drawing attention to the drying stains on my attire, and the subtle drawing of the eye to the blade at my hip.
I smile, serenely, "Please, fine sirs, let us not be stirred to violence." I open my arms the gesture of peace only serving to further reveal the remnants of battle.
"Surely, as we are all fine people of wisdom, we may come to some accord in this, without unnecessary trouble."
Perhaps, in court, or if I was interacting with actual people, I would be more subtle, less overt in my intentions.
But there is a snake in this grass of thugs, and I will find it.