Blade Of The Immortal Fan Fiction ❯ Abstinence Education ❯ Part Forty-Two ( Chapter 42 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

The characters and universe of Blade of the Immortal/Mugen no Junin are copyright by Hiroaki Samura and do not belong to me. Not one sen will come into my hands in consequence of this story.

Warnings for sex in various forms, including quasi-incestuous themes and a sixteen-year-old female paired with an adult male. (Yeah, this also applies to future chapters!) Violence and dismemberment are legally required in any BotI fic.

Clean water is all she wants to watch flowing free...

Abstinence Education
by Madame Manga
Part Forty-Two



“Fool, you’ve betrayed me.” O-Hama snarled at her lover like a furious cat. Batting at his wrists, she feebly tried to push Ryonosuke away. “Don’t... put your hands on me!”

“You’re wounded, my lady!” He reached out to her again from his knees. “Please let me aid you.”

She rolled into a tight curl around the arms she clutched to her body, blood starting to dry on her upper clothing. “No!”

“But I want to ease your pain – how have I betrayed you? I meant to protect you...”

“Protect... me? By shielding that little slut with your own body?”

Rin’s scattered attention focused on the couple again. They crouched in the dirt ten paces away, but O-Hama’s sharp, hissing voice was clearly audible. She lay on her side, her legs shifting and spasming irregularly, twitches of pain distorting her features under her matted hair. Ryonosuke bent over her, his chin dripping tears.

“O-Hama-dono, you must realize! If you had slain his woman, honor duel or not... your life would not have been worth a broken copper.”

Manji turned around at that; he threw Rin a quirk of the lips in passing, but glanced at Ryonosuke instead. Rin released the knot of the cord that tied her sleeves back and shook them out. She dabbed at her sweaty face with a flap of the silk, then picked up Manji’s emptied water container. Still aching with thirst – she headed off to fill it from the river, since the puddles weren’t fit to drink. Manji stayed where he was, grinning at the lovers’ tiff as if he were watching a wrestling match.

At least someone could still laugh! Rin’s emotions hadn’t focused yet; the dizzy aftermath of the duel still dominated her brain and body. She slipped off her sandals and waded into the shallows, sighing in relief at the cool wash of the river over her feet. Even the mud squishing between her toes felt soft and soothing.

“I could have... slain them both... if you hadn’t stopped me!” O-Hama’s voice rose shrill. “Idiot – throwing away such an opportunity! Once HE was dead...”

“I saw how much pain he suffered. For a moment I thought so too...” Ryonosuke sat back, slowly shaking his head. “But... he is not a mortal man.”

“Not invulnerable!” She pointed a trembling finger. “If I took his head – ”

“It’s no good even trying! He would have restored his body somehow...” Ryonosuke shot an apprehensive look at Manji, who smirked. “All you could have accomplished... would be to arouse his rage again.”

“Whaddya know, the kid’s grown a brain.” Manji tapped his forehead. “Or at least part of one.”

Manji’s horse stood a little further out in the river, flicking its tail back and forth and bobbing its head at a cloud of gnats. Rin splashed her legs, then waded upstream to find clean-running water and submerged the container to fill it. She drained it quickly and immediately put it into the river again, but realized she should slow down. No matter how thirsty she felt, she’d only give herself a stomachache with too much cold water at once. Rin rinsed and wiped her face and bloodstained throat, capped the container and returned to Manji, feeling much better. He looked at her with an evaluative eye and smiled.

Ryonosuke tried once more to examine O-Hama’s wound, but she rolled over and faced away from him. He lowered his head, his shoulders heaving. Rin wondered if he were going to cry again, but he only drew a couple of deep breaths and laid his hands on his thighs. Slowly shuffling on his knees, he turned in Rin’s direction. Without meeting her eyes, he sat back with care on his single heel and placed his fingertips on the ground in front of his knees, his hands exactly in line with each other. He took another deep breath, bent forward until his body doubled over and lowered his face.

His forehead met the earth. He said nothing yet, but Rin choked on her drink. A hatamoto lord’s son – knocking his forehead? To HER? For a moment even Manji seemed struck speechless. He pursed his lips in a silent whistle.

“Merciful... mistress. Triumphant victor. Gifted with wisdom and temperance in judgment... this defeated slave offers you his humble obeisance.” Caught in the middle of wiping her spattered lips, Rin dropped her mouth even wider open. “Forgive my insolence, paragon of virtues... but grant this unworthy person a hearing.”

Instead of answering him, Rin looked at her bodyguard in shock. Paragon of virtues? If not for his abject posture and the emotion in his voice, she would have believed that Ryonosuke mocked her.

“Holy shit – that’s a sight almost worth the price of admission.” A grin spread over Manji’s face again and he began to chuckle outright. “You figured that straight, sonny boy – she’s the one to ask if you’re looking for mercy.”

Ryonosuke kept his forehead pressed to the ground, his voice a little muffled. “My lady... has offended you deeply. Outraged your honor. I apologize on her behalf, and on my own. My shame is without measure; I have not acted as a m-man should, nor as a... a samurai. But you and your valiant protector have proved your honor on her body... and mine.” He coughed and shook. “Disregard this humble slave – my fate doesn’t matter. But from your bounteous kindness... allow my lady to live. P-please...”

“Err...” Again Rin appealed to Manji for help. He shrugged as if to say it was none of his business, then bent to pick up Rin’s dropped sword. When he handed it to her, the blade was streaked red from point to middle, mostly along the edge. Rin suffered a shudder at the sight of O-Hama’s blood. Obviously her sensei meant that she should wipe the steel dry before it stained, but she could barely think about proper weapon maintenance. Ryonosuke looked up, his face smudged with dirt and tears. Perhaps something about her expression encouraged him, for he immediately knocked his forehead again.

“I also petition for my lady’s freedom! She would rather die than return to her bondage.” Manji groaned in mock sympathy, but Rin wondered what Ryonosuke was thinking – where could O-Hama go now, other than back to the brothel?

“W-well, I... I...” she stammered. “I wasn’t exactly going to... I mean...”

“Before we all get too carried away...” Manji slanted a brow at Rin. “The bitch is hurt, just to remind you. Don’t know how bad, but if she’s run through the body, none of us are going to have any say in whether she lives or dies.”

Ryonosuke jolted upright. “R-run through?” He seemed to see Rin’s bloodied blade for the first time, and his face turned nearly green. He jerked around to look at O-Hama. “Oh, my darling! Please don’t tell me – ” He burst into loud sobs. “Merciful Amida! The innocent fruit of our love – ”

“Noo!” O-Hama snapped up her head with a shriek. “Be silent!”

Rin’s eyes opened so wide that they stung. For a moment the sun seemed to whirl around the sky; she staggered and Manji caught her. When she could focus on his face, he was staring over her head at O-Hama, his features twisted in consternation. The hilt of Rin’s sword seemed to burn her; she flung the weapon away and clapped her hands to her face. “Oh... my God!”

“M-my lady – ” Ryonosuke looked even more appalled. “I'm sorry, I – ”

“I begged you not to...” O-Hama weakly balled up her fists and hit the ground, weeping in rage. “No!”

“Why didn’t you TELL US?” howled Rin. She broke from Manji’s restraining grip and dashed towards O-Hama, waving her hands. “How could you fight me when you’re – what if I’ve hurt the b-b-ba – ohh!” Rin burst into tears as well.

As the three-part chorus of wails and cries gained volume and intensity, Manji folded his arms and tilted his head back. “Ya know...” he said in an almost conversational tone, but addressing no one in particular, “if somebody at the time had given me a hint – a suggestion – just a tiny one – that I was dealing not just with a pissy whore, or with a crazy broad looking for revenge, but a crazy pregnant whore – some of this crap might have made a little more sense.”

He dropped his head to scratch at his hairline with finger and thumb. “Okay. I gotta admit this don’t strike me as a sympathy scam. But the girl ain’t got a belly to notice, or at least she didn’t when I had a good... eh-hrrm.” He made a grimace. “So it’s not more than two months gone, if that – oh, for the love of hell.” Manji’s eye squeezed shut. “It ain’t mine?”

O-Hama shrieked again and covered her head with her arms. Ryonosuke glared at Manji. “Yours? I am – almost certainly – the child’s father! We counted back the days a week before you visited my lady!”

“Thank God.” Manji blew out a noisy sigh.

Rin grasped at O-Hama’s bloody clothes, trying to make her untie her obi. “Let me see how bad it is! Maybe I could bandage – ”

“I don’t ask for your pity, girl!” O-Hama batted Rin’s hands away just as she had done to Ryonosuke. “I never wanted this known at all!”

“Gee, obviously, since you didn’t say anything! I can’t believe you – you even said I should tell Manji to cut your head off!” Rin stood up again and put her fists on her hips. On cooler consideration, especially judging from her manner, O-Hama might not have a mortal impalement after all, though Rin recalled Mado’s slow and stoic death from his belly wound. The person who had wielded the weapon couldn’t exactly force such a prideful, stubborn woman to accept aid, especially when she wouldn’t take it even from her lover. Still Rin couldn’t help persisting. “What about your baby? Even if it’s only a month along – ”

“Whether I bore it in my arms or in my belly, it would still be its mother’s. Why wouldn’t you simply dash out its brains?”

“Haah? What is this, some old clan feud?”

O-Hama showed her teeth. “Wipe out your enemies, root and branch. Else they’ll return to haunt you.”

“That’s crazy – you’re crazy! I couldn’t ever let a little kid be hurt! Especially not because of who her parents...” Rin’s throat choked up and her tears began to flow again. “I... I lost m-my mother...”

She hastily returned to Manji’s side, her shoulders quivering and her face wet. He pulled a slightly mocking told-you-so smirk as she approached him and looked down at her without much sign of sympathy. If her ‘big brother’ didn’t understand the root of her distress, no one would. But his arms were the only comfort she longed for, as young and small as she felt right now. Who else could she ask, even if he wouldn’t answer?

“The weather’s sure turned drizzly all at once,” said Manji with a groan, and clapped a hand on the crown of her head to give her a firm shake. “Pull yourself together, Rin. You got more starch than that.” He threw a disgusted look at the young lovers; O-Hama hissed at Ryonosuke, who approached her again. “Shitfire.”

Rin grasped the front of Manji's clothes and leaned in as close to him as she dared. “Wh-what are we going to do now...?”

“Other than take both their heads, like I should have done first order? This’ll teach me to let things get complicated.” He rolled his eye at the heavens.

“Manji-san... you’d never kill a pregnant woman!”

“If she’d killed you?” He grasped a sword hilt and half turned away. Rin couldn’t make out his expression, but he gave a short, hard laugh. “Crap, I’d have her head if she was nine months gone and squatting to push.”

“Wha-at?”

“The bakufu don’t delay an execution just because the condemned’s going to pop out a brat. Some reason I oughta care more than the law does?”

“Is th-that true?” Rin covered her trembling lips. “But... but even if the mother’s been sentenced to death, the baby’s done nothing wrong.”

“Picked the wrong karma to hitch itself to – what’s the diff?” Manji scratched the back of his head and folded his arms. “She’s taking up valuable space until the day she’s marched out to the killing ground. Who’d give a damn about a prisoner’s brat, anyhow?”

What possible answer to that? He was only telling her how the world worked, no matter how she might wish that events could take another shape. Rin dropped her head and shut her eyes. Mother and child... the closest bond of all, practically one flesh. When a woman with young children carried out a self-killing, she nearly always took them with her if she could. Perfectly natural, if no less tragic for that. A cold, dark wash of despair seemed to seep around Rin’s feet, as if the river had risen to erode the ground from under her. Wasn’t there any way to redeem some small part of this? Some potential for life rather than death...

“Fool of a man... no man can ever be trusted with a woman’s secrets. Or with her body...”

“O-Hama-dono, I cannot live without your love! Forgive me for my unguarded tongue!”

O-Hama moaned. “Get out of my sight...”

Manji ignored the lovers' rising voices and scanned the riverbank. “Ehh... I’m going to go fetch the horses. Where’d you leave Anotsu’s nag?”

“Um... up on the bluff, near where you rode down.” Rin dabbed at her eyes and aimed her chin. “Their horse swam the river, I think.”

“Yeah, there it is – way over on the other side. Crap.” Manji shaded his face against the sunlight on the water. “It’s going to be a royal pain in the ass rounding up all the beasts. Not to mention getting everybody mounted, like Gimpy there.” He growled and pointed. “Pick up yer sword, woman. Not that these two are likely to pull tricks now, but I guess you better keep an eye on them anyway.”

Rin retrieved the sword, then sat with it on the ground. Her weariness and sorrow threatened to pull her all the way down, so she decided to rest there for a few moments. Manji called over his shoulder in a louder voice as he turned to go. “If they both happen to keel over and croak before I get back, don’t worry – I won’t feel one bit disappointed!”

“Wait!” Ryonosuke crawled towards Manji. “What are you going to do with us?”

“Hah? Do with you? I’m gonna haul your useless butts to the nearest village gate and dump you on the officials. Nobody’s going to turn down the chance to collect on that reward. Why, you got a better idea?” He laughed.

“Won’t you allow my lady to go free? Her former master – ”

Manji snorted. “That jealous dude’s willing to pay twice over for the same piece of ass? So let him get his property back if he wants it that bad.” He narrowed his eye at O-Hama. “Hell... that sounds just about right to me.”

“No, please! I beg you! Anything you desire!”

“That’s the broad that just told you to get lost, and you’re still crawling for her?” Manji launched a gob of spit sideways. “Sucker.”

“I... we have gold!” Ryonosuke held up a cloth-wrapped packet. “I’ll give you all of it – fifteen koban – ”

“Or I walk right over there and pick it out of your hand if I decide I want it. Anything else?”

Ryonosuke dropped the gold and put his hands on his knees, looking blank. “Quit wasting my time.” Manji made a fly-swatting gesture and began to walk away.

“W-wait!” Ryonosuke untied his obi and fumbled with the fastenings of his armor. “I have another offer to make! Let me prepare for – ”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you frickin’ nutjob? In front of the women?” Manji gave him an appalled glare and rapidly reversed direction. He strode in front of Rin and spread his arms, partly blocking her view. Curiosity piqued, she leaned from side to side to see around his legs. “Hey! Keep your damn clothes on!”

“I’ll carry out seppuku. Here and now!” Bright-eyed, in feverish haste, Ryonosuke kept tearing at the knots and dangling cords. Rin jumped – he couldn’t be serious!

“For my offenses against you and the woman you protect, to apologize for my lady’s displeasure – ” O-Hama raised her head. “I will atone as a samurai should atone... I will die as I should have lived!”

Manji stared at him a moment longer, then put his hands on his hips and burst out laughing. “You little twerp – you can’t even take off a hand when a guy’s lashed to a tree in front of you, and you’re gonna slice your own belly? Man, that is rich!”

O-Hama pushed up on one elbow, her eyes wide. Ryonosuke gave her a smile with a high-strung tremor and struggled to unpick an intricate decorative knot. He was in perfect earnest, Rin realized; she’d never seen him look so happy. Nearly shaking with joy.

“My... lord?” O-Hama whispered. She clutched her clothing at the throat as if she felt a chill.

He tried to squeeze his arm through a still-laced opening and stopped, panting with the effort. Rin couldn’t suppress a nervous giggle, though she covered her mouth, half pitying him. He really had been trying to stop the duel before either she or O-Hama could hurt the other? “I will make up for all the wrongs I’ve done, in one stroke. O-Hama-dono – will you accept my chosen death as the ultimate proof of my love and loyalty for you? My life is yours – it has been since the moment our eyes met.”

“Death... is honor’s bedfellow.” She didn’t look as if she believed this were a joke in the least, though Rin had the impression she wasn’t sure either that Ryonosuke could accomplish his object. Manji kept laughing. O-Hama gave him a glance, then turned to Ryonosuke. “My lord... in honor, I should confess to you first. Before you determine to take such a step...”

“O-Hama-dono?”

“Your love, so freely given... at first touched only my vanity. I took you for a reckless boy who would soon tire of me for other amusements. I tolerated your, ah, inexperienced attentions rather than truly enjoying them...”

Ryonosuke blinked at her. “At... first?”

“Yes, my lord.” She bowed her head, and then, oddly, raised her gaze to Manji’s. She seemed to mean for him to hear this, as if it conveyed a message or a reproof. Rin couldn’t see his expression from her vantage point just behind him, but Manji pulled his head back, apparently daring O-Hama to get a rise out of him. “You showered me with your unrestrained praise, with your wealth... I thought of you as useful rather than admirable. As did my master’s wife, since your declared attachment and constant visits meant that her husband could take up even less of my time. If your interest persisted much longer, she meant to propose that you become my exclusive danna.”

“Then... my gifts didn’t win your love? My passion? Or, um, my poems and letters? I couldn’t help composing verses every moment I was away from you...”

“No, my lord. My heart was hardened towards all men... I believed for ever.”

Manji’s shoulders twitched; an instant later he put up a hand and idly scratched the back of his neck. Ryonosuke looked confused for a few moments, then brightened. “But now?”

O-Hama clasped her hands in front of her and touched her forehead to them. “In your company, my lord, I realized I’ve felt my only true solace since my father died. Your selfless care for me... your kind friendship, and the deeds you have attempted for my sake. Their success... matters not at all.” Tears ran down her cheeks; to Rin’s embarrassment, her own eyes moistened, and she tried to blink the emotion away before anyone else could notice. Not that anyone was looking at her right now. “I am sorry that my pride and my quest for revenge blinded me to your qualities for so long, but at the same time, your dedication to that quest has entirely won my heart. M-my... dear love...”

Rin’s insides turned over. How did someone like O-Hama deserve such a priceless gift? Someone who loved her to the point of worship and told her so in every possible way, leaving no possible doubt how he felt and what he’d do for her sake. Rin couldn’t imagine simply tolerating a man’s open adoration; she covered her lips and fixed her gaze at the ground before her, darkened by her bodyguard’s shadow.

Manji vented a contemptuous groan, as if reconciliations amused him much less than arguments and he couldn’t see the point of listening to this one any longer. With a careless swing, he turned away from the lovers. The toe of one of his sandals bumped against Rin’s knees and his other foot snagged in her trailing sleeve as he almost tripped over her. Involuntarily she reached out and touched the calf of his leg when he halted his interrupted stride, and he stopped where he was, standing partly over her with legs spread.

“My only love. With all my soul and all my flesh, I love thee. Though another claimed my maidenhead in this life, we will surely meet again in a new incarnation. Perhaps then... we may be granted a brief interval of happiness together.”

Not Rin’s own words, not her story. Only the universal understanding, an unbreakable human bond even with an enemy, and so much more so with a friend. Everyone present entangled their fates in such a connection, willingly or not.

Without considering her impulse, Rin leaned forward and pressed her cheek to Manji’s knee, her hand resting on the cord of his sandal. Her face contacted only the sturdy hemp of his garment, but through it crept the warmth of his flesh. Why should the thought of death make life seem worth so much more? A liquid pulse rose from the junction of Rin’s legs to heat her stomach and lungs; she turned her face and exhaled. The cloth dampened from her breath and clung to the wearer’s skin. Or perhaps that was because of the sweat that moistened his body…

Rin’s wrist touched Manji’s bare ankle when she curved her hand above the arch of his foot, and his leg muscles tightened. Rin’s throat and stomach contracted and she touched her open lips to his lower thigh, though the stiff new cloth prickled like an unshaven chin.

Please, Manji-san, her silence begged. Only for a little while longer? Only a little bit more – or everything more? Because I don’t even know yet what that’s like. To love someone that much...

His hand hovered above her head, the tips of his fingers barely feathering her hair. His toes clenched with a squeak of his sandals and he swayed as if he felt a tremor of the earth, or an imbalance in his core. Rin didn’t dare let go of him to look up into his face. Manji took several slow, controlled breaths, his posture gradually steadying. She felt him turn from the waist and bend to the side and down, towards her. His palm molded to the top of her skull. Rin closed her eyes as Manji held her head to him and bent even lower, apparently to ensure that he spoke for her ears alone.

“Little... woman...”

He might have meant that as an admonition, but his voice caught in the middle of the phrase and halted on a low rasp. Rin shook all over. She tried to put both her arms around Manji’s knees, but he stepped abruptly out of her reach and her grasp slid away. Rin slumped and pressed her hands to the ground before her, in the prints of Manji’s sandals. He halted a few strides distant from her, looking in the other direction. O-Hama and Ryonosuke seemed lost in each others’ eyes, but Rin realized that she had been about to betray much more than she should have in their presence.

What if she and Manji been alone here? Never even known that these other two people existed? No extravagant, unrestrained avowals of fidelity and adoration to laugh to scorn. Or to attempt a slap in the face to stoic reticence: each observer would make of a lovers’ drama whatever he or she preferred.

Could any possible reproof or example, from anyone, have made an impression on a man like her yojimbo? Rin wondered if he could even picture an alternative to the bitter stubbornness she read in the set of his shoulders, and gave herself a mocking smile in answer. The only lesson he would take from learning that he wasn’t invulnerable? To retreat behind his habitual walls and fortify them even higher.

Then Manji’s posture changed. In fits and starts, resisting an impelling urge, he brought his head around and showed her his barely controlled expression. His shifting gaze, which would not settle either on her or away from her. As if a few steps’ distance was the only wall he could maintain now, and even that was disintegrating like mud-brick in the rain. Rin’s heart pounded. No such thing as a little more, a little longer. He knew he stood at a passage they had dug from both sides of that wall, and although he could not imagine what lay beyond it, he feared he would still seize his chance for escape. With an evident effort, he dragged his gaze away, put the heel of his hand to his forehead and gripped his fingers in his hair. Much greater than a fear...

A brief interval of happiness... or nothing so ethereal. Rin felt a pulse of the same uncertain thrill she’d conceived at her first glimpses of Manji’s passion. When they were alone once more, when he had bared himself of armor, when he discarded all false shields like drunken lapses or flares of jealousy, he wouldn’t compose a single poem in her praise...

The short sword that Manji had lent O-Hama for the duel lay on the ground near her, and Ryonosuke pointed at it. “I’ve lost my blades, my lady – will you give me that one?”

O-Hama’s lips quivered, but she rose up on her knees and one hand. The other arm she kept clamped around her middle. She seemed in considerable pain and moved slowly, though she didn't falter; the shock of the wound and her defeat might be easing. O-Hama stopped with her hand outstretched to the sword and turned her eyes on Manji. Catching her gaze, he lifted his head; the scornful smirk he’d pasted on his face faded somewhat.

“You got somethin’ to say?”

O-Hama hesitated, then gave him a slight bow. “I thank the shinpan for his loan of a weapon. It is a good blade. May I in turn loan it to my lord for... for his use?”

“Damn polite of you to ask my leave.” Manji stroked his jaw and chuckled. “It’s bad luck for the blade that cuts a belly... but it ain’t going to end up cutting anybody’s belly anyhow, so go right ahead and give it to him.”

O-Hama’s pale face flushed slightly. “My lord is... no coward.”

“Mm... could have a point there.” Manji shook his head at Ryonosuke, who had succeeded in loosening one shoulder shield so that it hung askew and blocked his efforts to untie it any further. “If he’d stayed home where he belonged, he wouldn’t be in this pickle now. Sheesh, girl – give him a hand with the knots, or he’s gonna be at it all friggin’ afternoon! I ain’t hanging around here until dark even for a good laugh.”

O-Hama laid the sword in front of Ryonosuke. Both of them worked at the cords until he could remove all the pieces of armor above his waist. O-Hama set aside both shoulder shields, the three-sided boxy do with attached skirt panels, the separate plate for his right side. It made a bulky pile. Underneath, Ryonosuke wore a red brocade tunic in the ancient court style, a set of redundant thigh protectors over his hakama, and his armored over-sleeves. O-Hama helped him off with the over-sleeves, then loosened the drawstrings that constricted his wide brocade sleeves at the wrists. It took some tugging at the waist, but they removed the tunic over his head and revealed a plain white kosode. Manji watched this elaborate operation with a smile, as if anticipating an entertaining performance. O-Hama gathered Ryonosuke’s loosened hair and tied it up for him, doubling the tail of his topknot over his shaven scalp.

The young man seemed to have built up some momentum now; he didn’t hesitate. He pulled down his kosode to expose his soft, hairless chest and stomach and tucked the sleeves under his knees. He looked at the sword. With a deliberate gesture and a few delicate touches, he adjusted its position so that it lay crosswise, the hilt at an easy reach from his seat.

“My death poem!” He licked his lips and closed his eyes.

“Dammit...” Manji dropped his forehead into one hand. “I forgot about the poetry...” Ryonosuke spoke over him.

“Written in the sand
the tracks of crying seabirds.
With the tide, tracks wash away.
When the birds take flight
wind erases their voices.”

He opened his eyes again and looked at the sword. Rin watched the color drain from his cheeks. He seemed to shrink even smaller; his stomach muscles quaked.

“Aw, wouldja look at this kid? When push comes to shove...” Manji guffawed. Ryonosuke tightened his mouth and didn’t look up. Rin realized he was about to freeze entirely; O-Hama obviously shared the thought, and she pulled in her lips and dropped her head.

Rin gave Manji a glare, half reproof and half appeal. Why did he have to let a defeated foe humiliate himself like this? Wasn’t that too cruel, even for a foolish, destructive boy who took all his direction from a manipulative woman? Manji raised his brows at her; how exactly did she expect him to make up for another man’s failings? She didn’t know.

“But... but you know how to do it right...” Rin looked down and whispered.

Maybe he’d heard that, maybe not. After a few moments something subtle changed in Manji’s manner, though he didn’t lose his sardonic smile. He strolled closer to Ryonosuke.

“Need some pointers, soldier?” Matter-of-fact rather than mocking. Rin closed her eyes and puffed out a sigh. O-Hama took a quick inward breath and Ryonosuke looked up, his eyes wide and panicky. “Good, then listen up. First off, when you cut your belly, the idea ain’t to kill yourself.”

“Ehh?”

Manji turned up his palms. “No shit. There’s ways and ways to do yourself in. Cut your throat if you feel like dying fast.” He drew a line under the side of his jaw with one thumbnail. “Slit the big blood vessels, pass out, you’re done.”

“Th-that’s a woman’s act... not a samurai’s!”

“Funny you should put it like that. This woman of yours is more samurai than her own big brother.” O-Hama colored and looked away. “That’s not a compliment... exactly. Just the truth.”

“If it’s not to die...?”

“You’re opening up for inspection, that’s what you’re doing. Proving what you’re really made of – like cutting an apple to show that it’s sound to the core. Too bad, it kinda wrecks your outside to take a good look at your inside.” Manji hunkered down to look the young man in the eye from an arm’s length away. “You sure you want to do that? Ain’t too late to take it back.”

“Y-yes... I’ve said so! I want to earn my lady’s freedom! I’ve recited my death poem!”

“Just jaw, kid.”

“My word as a samurai – !”

Manji pointed a finger. “For a kid who runs way beyond his ability and generally fucks it up all to hell, you sure got the confidence. Though I guess even a fuckup seppuku is better than a public crucifixion. At least from your point of view... not mine.” He rolled his eye.

“W-won’t you grant my wish if I carry it out?”

“For a good belly-cutting? I’d give plenty to see that, because it’s a beautiful sight. I ain’t gonna see that today.” Ryonosuke flushed red all down his meager chest. “Look, it’s damn embarrassing for everybody who has to watch a guy make a hash of it. There’s a reason they generally order the kaishaku-nin to take his head off before he hardly gets started!”

Ryonosuke put his hands on his thighs and stared at the ground, his lips trembling. Rin held her breath – Manji wasn’t the most tactful instructor possible, as she knew very well...

“I’ll outline for you,” said Manji in a slightly gentler tone. “You’ve got the prep down OK... though I’m no judge of poetry. Passing grade, at least.” Ryonosuke’s chin stopped wabbling; he swallowed hard and stiffened his spine. “Better. Now pay attention.”

Manji poked at the left side of Ryonosuke’s belly, below the navel. “That’s where you’re aiming. That’s where you really live, and what you’ve got to cut to release the spirit. Strike about a finger’s length in, pull all the way to the right and give it an upward hook at the end to let the guts spill. Simple?” He marked the line in the air and cocked his head at Ryonosuke.

“Uh... yes, of course... er, I did know that part...”

“It’s all in the execution, you understand... heh, heh. The best I’ve seen it done? The guy picked up the knife and made the first cut in one motion. Then he took a clean horizontal slice with a calm expression all the way, steady hand, no hurry... and he leaned out and held still for the head chop as pretty as you could ask, without making a sound.” Manji shook his head with a nostalgic smile. “I just about cried, it was that perfect.”

“He... he was a friend?”

“Him? Naah, some embezzling bureaucrat. Never saw him before that day. Who’d have thought it of a desk jockey, hah? That’s what bushido can accomplish... ripping out your own guts with a straight face.” Manji chuckled. “Think you’re enough samurai to do the job?”

“I was born hatamoto!”

“That ain’t what I asked you, dickhead.”

Ryonosuke huffed and put his shoulders back. “Yes... I am samurai.”

Quietly O-Hama eased up from where she sat a little behind Ryonosuke and moved in front of him where he could see her. She settled opposite Manji, though further away. Now she had the manner of a witness rather than an assistant; she folded her hands in her lap and sat still. Though Rin was not very near her, she had a sense of their shared separateness as women from a ritual reserved for men. Neither of them could have much influence over its development; they could only watch and wait. It still seemed almost inconceivable that Ryonosuke could succeed in his goal, though Manji obviously meant his advice at least semi-seriously. Maybe when he had no hope of ever making that choice himself, it piqued his sense of irony to tell a man how to die well...

“All right, then let’s cover a little more of the technical part. I’ll warn you, that’s a tough spot to penetrate, even on a soft-bellied little shit like you. Let yourself tighten up too much before the stroke, and those muscles are like oxhide. They’ll only bounce back the blade unless you do it with real decision. Takes the right frame of mind, not just the right technique. You got me so far?”

Ryonosuke looked Manji in the face and gave a firm nod. Manji paused with a considering air; he glanced down Ryonosuke’s body. “Tell you what. Let’s say you do manage to pierce your belly. Show enough balls to draw the blade across, and I’ll second you myself.”

Manji nodded back at Ryonosuke, whose eyes popped wide. “You heard me. I’ll put you out of your misery the moment you give a good pull to the right. If all you do is pink yourself and blubber, you’re ending up on a cross with a spear in your lungs. Or you can slit your chicken throat and avoid the whole question, which puts your lady straight back in the cathouse where she belongs. So gimme a decision and let’s move on; I’m getting kinda peckish.”

He rose, offhandedly drew his katana and rested it edge upwards on his shoulder. Rin put a hand to her mouth; a peculiar energy had charged the exchange, and for the first time she wasn’t sure of the outcome. Manji didn’t seem to intend to humiliate Ryonosuke further, though that was probably still inevitable. He wasn’t laughing at his idiocy. He was giving him the opportunity to show his spirit in the most literal sense, to prove his merit at the moment of courageous death. For a samurai, that was worth a lifetime of sins...

“You’ll set her free? I have your word as a samurai?”

“If that’s worth a warm crap... yeah, I’ll give you my word. Though I’ll point out that she’s not liable to benefit much from the arrangement in the long run.”

Ryonosuke looked at O-Hama, kneeling facing him to his right. “O-Hama-dono?”

“Tsukue Ryonosuke-dono.” She touched her forehead to the ground and straightened up again with an expression of pain. “What is your will, my lord?”

“I bid you farewell, my lady. On the other side, or in the next life, we will surely be together again. For now, we must part.”

“I wish you a good journey.”

“And I you.” They bowed to each other. Ryonosuke let his eyes linger on her for a moment. Then he turned and picked up the short sword. Manji took a step to stand to his left and a little behind him. Ryonosuke adjusted his grip on the hilt and turned the edge to his right. His pause was only momentary; before Rin could even read his resolution, he aimed an inward stab. She jerked at the impact of blade with body.

The point barely penetrated the skin and immediately slipped out again. Ryonosuke’s mouth opened and tears ran from his tight-squeezed eyes. Manji looked at the sky with an expression that said he’d expected nothing more. Rin wondered if he actually would have preferred otherwise.

But still gripping the blade, Ryonosuke brought his arms out, straightened his elbows and brought them in again. This time he pushed his body into the thrust, and the point hit higher and sank a little deeper. His face crumpled in obvious pain and perhaps chagrin – still not nearly deep enough. He set his teeth, crying so hard that his cheeks glistened. Holding the point in place against his belly, he leaned over, put the end of the hilt against the earth and threw his weight upon the blade.

He screamed and rolled upright again with the sword embedded in his body, the point penetrating at least a handspan’s depth. Rin’s lips parted in horror. O-Hama didn’t stir. Manji made a grimace and brought his katana off his shoulder. Ryonosuke tugged at the sword – attempting to move it partly outwards? He put one palm to the back of the blade and tried to push it to the right, though he seemed to have lost all strength in his hands. Again he screamed in piteous agony and began to crumple, his thigh protectors soaking in blood.

Manji’s long blade blurred in motion. It was an awkward, off-balance stroke; he had to direct his swing in an acute arc to meet his target, since Ryonosuke wasn’t even close to being in position. But the young man’s head hit the ground an instant later, neck sliced cleanly between the vertebrae. Blood gushed with an audible hiss as Ryonosuke’s heart emptied in surges. His body threatened to slump backwards; Manji aimed a kick between the shoulder blades and it fell forward, right arm outstretched. Ryonosuke’s head spun to a stop in front of O-Hama.

Rin looked at Manji instead. He stared straight ahead, breathing hard, then wiped his face on his forearm. To Rin’s surprise, his hand trembled. He clenched his fist and stopped the tremor, still pressing the arm to his face. After several moments he let his arm fall; he looked down at the headless body.

“Samurai enough, hah?” Manji’s lip lifted in a snarl. “Thanks a lot... ya little shit.”

O-Hama reached out with both hands and picked up Ryonosuke’s head. She set it in her lap and turned his face upwards. Rin could detect no sign of tears; she looked into Ryonosuke’s dimming eyes and stroked the sand from his hair with only a faint air of regret. She gave him a tender smile, closed his staring lids with the tips of her fingers and held the head to her breast almost as if nursing a child.

Rin watched, her throat tight. Manji hooked up Ryonosuke’s discarded brocade tunic with the point of his katana and slowly cleaned the blood from the blade. Rin rose and approached him with tentative steps, and when he clicked the sword into the sheath and let out a long breath, she touched his sleeve.

“Manji-san?” He glanced down at her sideways with a grim expression. “Are you... will you...?”

He ran a hand over his cheeks and chin and pulled back his lips, as if working away a taste from his mouth. “That’s your call.”

“Is it? Then yes... but we aren’t going to ride away and just leave her here like this, are we?”

“I guess you got other ideas.”

“Yes, leave us.” O-Hama spoke softly, cradling the head. “Don’t seek to influence my fate.”

Rin turned to her. “I can’t do that. I think you know why.”

“Nevertheless, I’d prefer it.”

Manji looked as if he’d like to say that O-Hama’s preferences didn’t mean much to him, but Rin interrupted. “This isn’t charity, Hama-san. I don’t think that your baby’s father meant to die just so we’d let you die too. Manji-san says he’ll keep his word... and so will I.”

“You’ve made no promise... Rin-san.”

“Not to you. To myself, maybe. So it’s my honor we’re talking about, and my honor doesn’t include walking away from someone who’s wounded and likely to die or be captured without my help... even my worst enemy. Got that?”

O-Hama ventured a sidewise look at her and didn’t quite meet her eyes, but nodded.

“I’ve got an idea. I can’t make you do it, but it would satisfy things, I think. We can take you to a doctor to get treatment for that wound, and then to a temple. You have money to pay for food and lodging until your baby’s born, and then some. You can claim asylum there too, so your master can’t force you to return to him.” O-Hama was silent. “Then after that... maybe the Tsukue family? You were born samurai, so your baby – ”

O-Hama laughed faintly. “Even if the child exactly resembled the father, I doubt they would wish to acknowledge it. You forget their upright pride as hatamoto... and that they declared their son outlawed.”

“Oh... yeah.” Rin bit a fingernail.

“Perhaps you’ll suggest next that I should shave my head and become a nun?” O-Hama’s laugh took on an edge. “Or return to my own family in town?”

“Well, err... they couldn’t help you?”

“They have lived on the price of my chastity.” O-Hama picked up the cloth-wrapped packet of coins from the ground and let it fall again. “They can’t pay it back.”

“But they owe you! Couldn’t they do anything? Hide you or send you away to relatives?”

“My brother would not permit that. In any case, while he lives I will never set foot through that gate again...”

“What? Oh, you’re actually admitting you’re angry with that jerk for forcing you to sell yourself to support his drug habit?” Rin rolled her eyes. “Gosh, about time!”

“He didn’t force me to enter the brothel, though his actions made it... inevitable.” O-Hama looked faraway and unfocused. “It’s fortunate that my parents had only one daughter...”

“Uh... one daughter?” Rin’s brow creased.

“Drink and opium... they corrode a man in mind and soul as well as body. There was only one corruption I could remove from him forever...”

That didn’t seem to follow at all; was O-Hama wandering in mind? Rin blinked and began another question. Then Manji made a sudden sharp sound and shook his head at her. He seemed uneasy, even disturbed, which confused Rin even more. “What? I don’t understand what she’s talking – ”

“Don’t ask, woman.” The degree of Manji’s expression as he looked at O-Hama struck Rin strongly. Though he probably hadn’t heard half of what O-Hama had said to Rin during the duel, he seemed to realize the existence of her lurking monster, whatever face it presented to his eye. When he glanced at Rin, she was startled; he struggled openly with revulsion and anger, but under it smoldered fear or even shame, as if his own revulsion could reflect on him. “Let that lie right where she put it!”

Rin felt a creeping flicker approach in the darkness, which couldn’t quite ignite an idea. Why would her sensei warn her against learning anything? Some kinds of knowledge were dangerous, he seemed to mean. The darkness threatened to part, though its roiling as yet revealed only more clouds. Those vile characterizations that O-Hama had aimed so narrowly... more to them than mere insult, as if she knew rather than guessed – ?

Rin took a step backwards, her stomach churning. No – it wasn’t possible for O-Hama to know what she and Manji had done! That woman’s dreadful tongue twisted everything for her own purposes, but she had no power of black magic to see into someone else’s mind. Her own mind and memory were all anyone could ever possess...

Expression stiff and pale as he watched Rin’s reaction, Manji clenched his teeth so that his jaw bulged in knots; he shook his head at her very slightly, as if his neck had pulled too tense to move. Witnessing the monster’s approach, and still not able to do the first thing to defend her from its jaws. Not even to speak to tell her its name, as if O-Hama had stolen his voice once more. He closed his eye and turned his face to the side, seeming to wait for a blow.

An echo of his silent dread disturbed Rin’s memory – Manji had once tried his best to keep her from going with Makie when the swordswoman had met them in the street. He’d feared consequences neither of them could have divined. And if she’d only obeyed her cautious yojimbo? Never learned what Makie had to say to her, never tried to act on it? Rin suffered a burning wrench of shame at that thought, and dropped her own gaze.

“Um... M-Manji-san? Then if I shouldn’t ask...?”

“He’s quite correct... little sister.” O-Hama delicately caressed Ryonosuke’s dead face and spoke in a sweet, girlish singsong. “Listen to his advice, and follow his instructions in everything he asks of you... surely he knows what’s right, and how to teach you what you need to know. After all, your bodyguard has always taken such good care of you, as his duty demands he should. Hasn’t he... ‘big brother’?”

Manji’s body rocked. He gave a muffled moan and clutched his stomach. A surge of concern for him blew through Rin; with unconscious relief she let it push the dark clouds away. Manji looked dreadful, almost as bad as when the wandering arrow had pierced his vitals, though his pain didn’t seem entirely physical this time. Surely O-Hama’s little instructional speech on filial obedience couldn’t have stabbed him so – however oddly, she’d practically complimented him. “Gosh, are you all right, Manji-san?” Rin reached for his elbow. “Oh, I wish we’d been able to pull out that awful thing when it hit you! Here, please sit down – !”

Instantly he recoiled from her touch. “Nah, I’m good.” For some reason, O-Hama was smiling directly at him. She dipped her lashes almost flirtatiously and fluttered them up again; Manji’s expression went stony and he straightened with an effort. “No... problem.”

He locked gazes with O-Hama as if trying to stare her down. A cool, sweet color of triumph in her eyes, as if she’d won a final round against her enemy even though he’d destroyed every other weapon she had. Manji seemed to struggle with his emotions again, this time veering close to hatred before he spun away and stalked off towards the riverbank. O-Hama watched him go, her expression smooth and serene.

Rin made a face; that last exchange had been completely beyond her, but she felt far more irritated than curious now, as if grownups had taken her for a baby and deliberately talked over her head. “Fine, not your family! Then maybe we could – look, you’re really not sounding very well – ”

“No.”

“Hah?”

 220;I will not be escorted by you to any place whatsoever, so please don’t consider that line of thought any further.” O-Hama gave Rin a formal bow, as if bidding her farewell. Then she lifted Ryonosuke’s head and gave him a lingering kiss on his slack, purpling lips. Rin shuddered when O-Hama stroked her dead lover’s open mouth with her tongue and slipped it inside. That settled it; she’d finally gone completely mad!

Revolted and miffed, Rin turned on her heel and followed Manji towards the river. He saw her approaching, quickened his pace and retreated into the water until it reached his knees. He abruptly bent and flung a few handfuls of water over his head, then vigorously scrubbed the back of his neck and dunked his face. Rin stopped on the bank and folded her arms. “Gosh, that woman! I guess it’s dumb even to try.”

“I’ll say.” He spat out a spray of water and shook his wet head so that droplets spattered the river’s surface.

“Let her have one of the horses, then, if she won’t come with us.” Rin tapped her fingers on her arm. “I’ll try again to persuade her to let me bandage her wound, at least. Then we can get her over the river so she can try for the border. Maybe it’s not a sure chance... especially with her acting so totally weird, but it’s what they were doing in the first place.”

“Help her escape?” Manji twitched his mouth with water running down his face.

“Yes, because of her baby... and if she’s caught and taken back to her master, that could be as much as her life is worth.” Manji grunted interrogatively. “If the baby’s not her master’s... or even if it is, he will probably make her get rid of it.”

“So?”

“Uh...” Rin covered her mouth. “I heard... that it’s very dangerous to try to stop a baby from growing in the womb.”

“You heard this – where?” Manji stood upright; his frown looked like another warning against dangerous knowledge. “Who the – ”

“From someone who ought to know, okay? A woman can bleed to death, or suffer for days before she dies. Please... just give her a horse and help her cross the river.”

Manji rolled his shoulders with a sense of weariness. “She’s knocked up, and that changes everything?”

Rin creased her brows; fully explaining her feelings about the baby hardly seemed possible or even useful. “You said it made more sense now...”

“Why she’s such an insane bitch, I meant – whoa!” Manji snapped his head around and dashed to the bank with a giant wake kicking up behind him. Rin whirled as he passed her at a run, and gasped to see a knife glint in O-Hama’s hand. She chased after Manji, but halfway to O-Hama he stopped in mid-stride and Rin bumped into him.

O-Hama lowered the knife. Her other hand held out a thick hank of her hair. She opened her fingers; the hank slid from her grasp and coiled over her lap. She had cut it off close to the scalp. As Rin watched open-mouthed, O-Hama took the rest of her hair in handfuls and cut it off in the same way, tugging the little knife through the bunched strands with soft ripping sounds. Lock by lock her hair fell into her lap and on the ground, draping the head of her dead lover where it lay nestled between her knees. Ryonosuke’s upturned face was just visible, as if through a shroud of sheer black silk.

“Oh, my goodness...”

“She’s doin’ the nun thing?” Manji looked incredulous. O-Hama folded her hands over Ryonosuke’s head and bent low, speaking or reciting to him in a voice too quiet to carry. Cropped, her scalp looked patchy and the marks on her face stood out on her pale skin; she had lost her air of cool and superior sophistication to a fragile, bruised loveliness so insubstantial that she seemed half-transparent. “Well, ho-lee shit...”

Her chin trembling, Rin took Manji’s sleeve. “Please... tell her what I said?”

He closed his eye and tightened his jaw, possibly to hide a shudder that ran all through him. “You win, kid. Don’t be surprised if she turns that down too.” Manji rubbed his neck, cleared his throat and walked over to O-Hama. She glanced up at him and bowed very low, hands on her thighs and her forehead a little way from the ground.

“Uh, yeah... look, woman, you’d better take care of your man’s body. I guess you don’t want him found and hung up for an example, or his head put on a pike. Strip him and pitch his clothes in the river, and bury his head. That way no one will know who he is, anyway.”

He paused; O-Hama didn’t stir from her deep bow. “I’m gonna give you a horse so you can get over the border, so don’t dawdle. You could still make a fair distance before dark if you give it some effort. Ahh, what the hell – I’ll help you put your man in the river. Running this high, it could carry a corpse all the way out to sea...” Manji paused again. “You listening to me?”

Rin took a step towards them. Then she was running, hands out, a cry stuck in her throat. Dropping hard to her knees – seeing the dark flood soak the scattered locks of long black hair. The darkness spread a stain over the light sand and soaked into the earth. Ryonosuke’s head shifted under O-Hama’s. His open lips brimmed with blood; the recesses of his eye sockets had filled as well, and as his face turned to the side, blood trickled from them.

The hand with the knife fell aside and released the last of the flood. O-Hama’s face settled to press against her lover’s, her red-washed throat showing a clean, dark cut just under the side of the jaw. Not a sign of hesitation, in complete silence, and without moving more than necessary to accomplish her object. By her own standards, she had died perfectly.

“How?” Rin laid her own face on the sun-warm sand and closed her eyes. “Oh, Manji-san, why?”

“Samurai,” said Manji. He spoke with a sense of helpless, disgusted awe, as though he had seen that idea torn open to divulge its innermost spirit, and read nothing in its vital tangles that explained more than its own destruction.


Continued...