"Kyuushutsu" by Andrew C. Euston

Leaves gently danced in the playful breeze from their perches. Trees bore beautiful blossoms that would soon become fruit. Blossoms were already falling to the ground and being picked up by the wind. A gloved hand shot into the sky and grasped at the wind. The hand lowered to an unshaven face and gently opened to reveal three blossoms. The man brought the blossoms to his face and took in their scent. He released two of the blossoms into the wind and put the last one, a crimson blossom, into a pouch on his belt. He sat leaning against a young kuri chestnut tree and smiled as the two blossoms danced and twirled, finally landing in a quiet stream and floating off into his imagination.

"We’ve been running for so long, I had forgotten how peaceful life could be" came a deep voice from behind a tree opposite to the sitting man. "You seem to be enjoying the scenery far too much Takeo."

At this Takeo could only laugh. He stood up and brushed stray grass off of his yoroi armor with one hand and fixed his sword to his belt. The night blue enamel of his armor shone in the sunlight making Takeo squint his eyes. "What’s wrong Shiro, too serious to sit back now and then?"

"Kyoto province is not as welcoming as this meadow would make it appear," said Shiro, a tall and well-built man with a sharp moustache. Shiro stepped away from the kuri chestnut tree he stood behind. "The townspeople said we were not welcome here. They still sold us the supplies and what equipment we needed. I guess they needed the business far more than they wanted us to know," Shiro said as he tossed Takeo a piece of fruit.

Takeo snatched the fruit from the air and tossed it into the air playfully. "We aren’t even in Kyoto province yet. These peasants do not know what they are speaking of. The men do not need to know of these rumors, the last thing we need is more deserters," Takeo finished his sentence with a bite of the fresh fruit. His careless smile returned as he thought of the singing birds and wondrously colored trees that filled the meadow.

Watching from a distant tree, a man cloaked in dark loose clothing gave a faint smile. "The time is nearing, Takeo, and time waits for none," the man whispered into the wind. He leapt back from the tree with blinding speed, shaking a cloud of blossoms free with his exit and was gone.

Groups of men stood lined up for role call. Shiro stood in front of the men calling out names. Just as he had expected, only three fourths of the men he called gave replies. "Remember men, deserters will be dealt with through death. There is no way a ninja could dishonor himself more than to desert his fellow ninja and his school," to this all of the men gave a stern nod. Shiro couldn’t help but wonder how many more would flee before they set off further into the Kyoto province. Shiro gave his mustache a few strokes. The flap on the camp’s largest tent opened as Takeo and his assistant walked into the open. "How is the road?" Takeo asked.

"Our only worry is groups of Ronin samurai that stalk this area like a plague. The locals warned us of them earlier. Not a problem for us though, these Ronin samurai should provide excellent exercise for our warriors and their weary arms," Shiro replied.

Night’s dark tendrils invaded the land. The darkness had crept through the thicket slowly but never resting. The silence was broken by an abrupt scream. A man clothed in black with dragon emblems the color of blood running down his arms leaned against a tree while he cleaned his katana’s blade. He soundlessly sheathed the blade at his waist and knelt down. Lying at his feet was a soldier. A wound ran cleanly across the dead man’s neck. From the dead soldier’s belt, the man pulled a note. He broke the wax seal on the note. It bore the insignia of the Oda clan.

Zeshin, you will cease your pursuit of the Iga ninja. You have been given orders to remain with the scout unit until ordered elsewhere. This form of behavior will not be tolerated within Lord Nobunaga’s army. You will be expected to return to the base camp within four days.

Zeshin crushed the letter in his hand and dropped it onto the dead man’s back. "I find your terms unacceptable," as Zeshin said this he removed the contract papers he was given by an Oda general. He stuck them to a tree with a dagger and walked away into the darkness. Am I the hunter or the hunted, he wondered to himself. "No matter," he said, not caring if anyone heard him, "I will find you Takeo and when I do we shall see what becomes of us."

Golden light poured over the horizon turning the clouds that spotted the sky into a tapestry of color. Takeo looked into the sky as he walked with Shiro. He remembered his home briefly and how he and Shiro would race to a local hill to watch the sun rise. Those times were gone, as was the village. He had to stay focused and ready at all times. The two men they had sent out to scout the road ahead hadn’t returned and he knew his men would not be late. He dwelled briefly on the nature of the bandits but dismissed the thoughts almost as quickly. Rounding a bend in the road, one of the men pointed ahead with a grim expression on his face. They had found the two scouts. The first man had been impaled onto a tree by his own sword. Aside from this, he had been cruel slices on his arms and legs. The second man had been literally shredded. Takeo saw the skillful cuts that covered the men and immediately knew what had caused it. "Some sort of claw," Takeo remarked while examining the bodies. "Not many people in this region would have the skill required for such weapons, how unusual."

"How observant," Shiro mumbled wondering who could have taken out two of his men with such ease. "We must be cautious now. These men are more than just…" as he was turning a flash caught his eye. He turned and drew his blade just in time to view three men fall dead in their tracks. Each of the fallen men had small knives protruding from their necks.

"Get off the road!" Takeo barked. The ninja scattered into the wooded area along the road’s edge. The man at Takeo’s left fell prey to the tiny metallic assassins. Takeo knew the man was dead before he hit the ground and knew that if he slowed his pace, he would share a similar fate. Just ahead of Takeo, a man clothed in red baggy garments dropped from a tree. He wore a mask that bore resemblance to a demon. Takeo skidded to a halt and readied his sword. The sound of snapping twigs came from his back and he knew in an instant that another man was behind him. Other than the masked men, he was alone.

"Yes, yes, very observant indeed," the masked man ahead of him chuckled. The man was hunched over oddly and his arms hung too long. Takeo realized the terrible truth of his suspicion as the masked man’s long crimson sleeves pulled back revealing metal claws on each of his hands. The five blades on one of the clawed hands moved as intricately as one would move their fingers. Rays of light that penetrated the dense forest canopy reflected playfully on the deadly instruments.

"Let us play with this one, he looks like he has some fight in him," the man behind him chortled.

"Mmmm, yes. This one should last us much longer than the two that wandered here earlier. Yes, he has that look to him," the demon’s disturbing rhyme echoed in Takeo’s mind.

"You men are nothing but cowards. I will gladly send you both back to hell!" as Takeo spoke he was already mid-flight with his blade arcing towards the masked man in front of him. In an act that Takeo viewed as insane, the masked man sprinted straight at him. A claw swung furiously at Takeo’s side while the other caught his sword before he could strike. His armor protected him, but Takeo knew it wouldn’t last. One of them would make a mistake. Upon spinning to counter the next attack, Takeo noted that the other man was not entering the fight. He wore a mask that was similar to the one worn by the man he was fighting, but the expression on the face was fiercer and it bore a pair of horns. The man just stood, by his tree, with his arms crossed at his chest and his claws spread apart. The brutal assault continued as Takeo desperately parried the onslaught of stabs and claw sweeps. Finally viewing an opening in the masked man’s frightful dance, Takeo thrusted his sword into the man’s exposed leg.

The masked man leapt back and grabbed his leg. "Y-you hit me. How? How is it that you were able to hit me? Oh, no matter." The masked man stood again as though he hadn’t been wounded. "I will make you suffer hundreds of deaths before I finish you!" the masked man’s pain became something frightening as he began to laugh. The laugh grew wilder by the second. Takeo didn’t like what he saw, the man stood completely hunched over staring at his own bloodstained leg while spouting that hideous laughter. His body straightened as though it was being stretched out, then with blinding speed, the masked man darted from tree to tree literally leaping off of tree trunks. He struck out at Takeo like a maelstrom of blades. Takeo could barely keep up. It was then that he remembered stories elders in his village would tell of half-demon men that attacked indiscriminately and killed simply for the thrill of the hunt. These men called themselves Berserkers. Takeo doubted that these men were part demon, but he could already guess why they were called berserkers.

The berserker laughed while flailing his bladed hands in a dance of pain as Takeo fought to stand his ground. Takeo’s uneasiness increased as he saw the second berserker advancing on the fight. He knew he would surely die against two of these clawed fiends. Suddenly the second berserker stopped and turned his head. Shards of light erupted from the forest, cutting through shadows cast by ancient trees. The second berserker leapt away as his sleeves too pulled back revealing a deadly pair of claws. "You who dares to interrupt our game, show yourself else I will come and get you myself."

"You can not have this man’s life," a calculating voice echoed from the forest. "That honor is reserved for another." The voice had become much closer. The second berserker broke out in laughter similar to that of his partner. A pair of arms bearing red dragon emblems held a black serrated blade firmly as the black garbed man they belonged to carried the blade silently closer to its target. The waiting berserker turned in time to see the dark samurai Zeshin jump with his blade poised to cut into the berserker’s heart. Shadows parted ways for the mysterious swordsman as he made cut after cut in the berserker’s red clothing. The berserker blocked as many of the attacks as he could, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He had few options left.

Only several feet away from Zeshin, Takeo could spend very little time in awe of the samurai’s sudden entrance. He parried each swipe of the claws that swung ever closer to him. In a voice that chilled Takeo’s spine, the second berserker cried out, "Blood of the fallen angels!" Takeo and Zeshin exchanged glances. For the moment they were allies. But Takeo knew better than to think this was permanent. Both berserkers brought one arm behind their backs and raised the other into the air. The first berserker brought his arm down as though he was going to strike at Takeo, but the berserker was too far away to make that kind of attack. Without warning, the clawed hand flew from its wielder’s arm as though it were a bladed hawk. The gauntlet of razors glanced Takeo’s side as it passed. The blow had forced him to the ground. He clenched his free hand over the wound as he drowned in a sea of pain.

Zeshin had not seen this change in tactics either and was, if only for a brief moment, caught off guard. He skillfully dodged the claw’s path. The berserker he fought cursed under his breath and pulled fiercely on the chain that connected him to his weapon. Zeshin smiled wickedly as his eyes fell upon that chain. The cold serrated steel of his sword bit hungrily into the chain, cutting through it as though it was merely a toy. Having disabled the berserker, Zeshin moved in for the kill.

Takeo had taken advantage of the situation when his berserker sank his claw into a nearby tree and could not seem to free it. The berserkers single claw was not nearly enough to keep Takeo from striking a mortal wound. A single claw swung above Takeo’s head as he dropped to his knees. The grievous error in the berserker’s tactics showed in his eyes as both of them followed Takeo’s sword. The sword pierced the red robes and tore through the soft flesh hidden within. Takeo turned his head to watch as Zeshin cleaved the second berserker’s clawless arm from his body. Such strength and skill, Takeo thought. The berserker made a terrifying noise, a human mix of fear, pain, and loathing. The black serrated blade’s second pass took the mask clean from the berserker’s face and left a gash down the right side of his face. Takeo realized that he was still beneath his adversary, although his enemy had died as the blade passed through his chest and out his back. He pushed the body onto the ground and removed the sword. Zeshin simply watched as his enemy slumped to the forest floor in a heap. "He’s still alive?" Takeo questioned already the answer.

"Yes, but he won’t be for very long. Let us leave him to his pain so he may think of all those he has left to die in a similar fashion," Zeshin’s words rang with a cruel justice that Takeo couldn’t help but to agree with. "Let us leave this place, we are in their territory and there very well may be more of them." Zeshin looked at Takeo and studied his face.

"I thank you for fighting at my side," Takeo stated as he bowed. "Tell me Zeshin, do you still serve Nobunaga?"

"No. I do not serve him, nor have I. I go where fate points me. I suggest we leave here, now. We can discuss this when the immediate danger has past," Zeshin said as he sheathed his blade at his side.