Tasakeru

BOOK VI, CHAPTER 2

16 May 2011 6 Comments

by BHS in 2nd Volume: Night and Day, Book VI: The Voice of the Dawn Tags: adventure, animal, anthro, drama, fantasy, fiction, forest, furry, hanami, japanese culture, kemono, mammals, outcast, religion, samurai, Tasakeru, the voice of the dawn, web fiction, web serial novel, zero

CHAPTER 2

A kendo lesson

A desire for defense

Rematch at the inn

“Naole –

Very funny.”

[From the letters of Zero Takaichi. This was the shortest correspondence between the Takaichi siblings that has ever been recovered]

Hanami had her eyes closed, and was trying not to feel. The wind was teasing her by blowing tiny snowflakes into her face, but she made every effort to ignore them, as she was ignoring the snow piling up at her feet and threatening to overtake her sandals. She was also ignoring the growing numbness of her hands from the cold air, the slight protests of her hungry stomach, the nagging suspicion that this was not at all a good idea, and the persistent doubt that these lessons would prove effective…

“Hanami, are you concentrating?” said the badger’s voice.

The squirrel kept her eyes shut tight. “Yes.”

“And what are you concentrating on, exactly?”

Hanami grimaced. “I’m concentrating on all the things I should be ignoring.”

Somewhere in front of her, Ashpaw sighed, but there was amusement in it. “Just try to relax,” he said gently. “Your power will come more easily if you don’t attempt to force it. Now, try it again… focus your attention on what you want the Mage Flower to do. Picture it in your mind.”

“A shield,” she said, more to herself than to Ashpaw.

“Good,” said Ashpaw. “Now just let it form naturally…”

Energy flowed down Hanami’s arm, to the tips of her fingers and into the stem of the Mage Flower. She could feel it working without even looking; it was as if the growth sprouting from the flower’s blossom was a part of her body. A flat shape, thin enough to carry, but sturdy enough not to shatter if struck, made of a strong wood, like mahogany…

“That’s good, Hanami, very good!” Ashpaw was saying. “… Hanami? That’s good, that’s enough now…”

She couldn’t hear him; her entire being was focused on her task. When she finally opened her eyes, she wondered for a moment where the wall had come from all of a sudden; it took her several seconds to realize that she was looking at her shield: it was nine feet tall, and wider than both of her arms outstretched.

The badger peeked around the edge, gracious enough to try to hide his amusement. “It’s a little large, isn’t it?”

Hanami’s ears turned back ashamedly. “I… forgot to focus on the size…”

Ashpaw’s massive hands gripped either side of the shield. With a grunt of effort, he hefted it over his head and smiled. “No need to be embarrassed. I can still make good use of this… Mahogany, isn’t it? It should make for a fine addition to my bookshelves.”

“What are you doing?”

The fur on Hanami’s tail stood straight up as she yelped with shock; Zero had dropped down from the branches behind her without a sound, the snow muffling his footfall.

Ashpaw bowed as best as he was able, shifting the shield (or rather, future bookshelf) to a more comfortable position as he did so. “Good day, Zero. Are you well?”

The buck brushed a few stray snowflakes off his shoulders. “It’s too cold, but I’m all right otherwise.” He looked over at Hanami, who was trying to regain her composure. “So what are you doing?”

Hanami swallowed, closed her eyes, and turned her back to him.

Zero blinked. “Hanami…? Um, hello?”

She remained as still as a statue.

“Hanami,” said Zero with a grimace, “if you’re mad at me, just tell me. Please don’t do that, it drives me crazy, it’s just like what Naole always-” The light dawned. “Oh Gods. You’ve been talking with her, haven’t you?”

“So she has,” said Ashpaw with a sigh. “It seems she has given Hanami a thorough education.”

Zero’s stomach dropped. “’Education?’”

“As to what annoys you, of course. There is no greater expert on that subject than a little sister, I suspect.”

“Oh Gods,” Zero said again, kneading his brow. “Hanami, it’s for the best, I thought we agreed on that!”

“I agreed with it,” said Hanami quietly, without turning around. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be upset about it. I’m very upset, and so is Naole. By the way, she told me about your missing toes. And the Udon Incident…”

“Naole has nothing to do with this!” Zero said a little too loudly, as his stomach tied itself in knots. The fact that Hanami now knew about the Udon Incident was just as terrifying as anything else at the moment. “Hanami, it’s because I care about you that I said the things I did. I never wanted to hurt you…”

Finally, she whirled to face him, her eyes glistening. “Then why tell me? Why did you say you-” She mouthed the word silently for a moment before finally speaking it. “… you loved me, if you knew we couldn’t be…”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.” He was almost pleading. “I wanted you to know the truth, I’m sorry…”

Ashpaw looked back and forth from one to the other as the argument continued. So fascinated was he by the volatile emotions at play on both sides that he didn’t even mind being ignored; he might have been part of his new bookshelf material for all they noticed him.

Feeling events spiraling rapidly out of his control, Zero fished for a different topic, something, anything else to talk with her about… He would have rather faced a hundred Demon Fangs naked than continue this line of conversation. “What were you doing with Ashpaw, anyway?” he asked; it was the first thing that came to mind.

Hanami ran her hands through her long sun-golden hair. “Training. I want to learn to defend myself better.”

“But…” He was thrown for a loop on that one. “… you’re a female. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself, that’s my job.”

The doe stamped her foot, sending up a small cloud of snow. “Ohhhh, not that warrior chivalry again! Why don’t you ever say those things to Faun?!”

That was a very good question. Zero opened and closed his mouth several times. Finally he shot a desperate glance at Ashpaw.

“I believe Hanami feels that if she can fully defend herself, you will be less inclined to worry over her, Zero,” said the badger gently.

“But-” said Zero.

“And I don’t just want to train for defense,” said Hanami.

“You don’t?” Ashpaw blinked.

She took a deep breath. This would be the first time she brought up this subject… it was something she had been considering ever since beginning her lessons, but here, now, with Zero right in front of her, she knew it was the right time. “I want to learn to sword-fight, and I want you to teach me. Not with real weapons, of course, with those practice wooden ones-”

“Bokken…?” offered Zero, completely lost and unable to think of anything else to say.

“Yes, that’s it! Bokken!” She clutched the Mage Flower to her chest and closed her eyes, thinking hard. In a few moments, two sword-shaped growths of spruce had sprung out of the ground. Their shapes were a bit rough, and the wood wasn’t nearly as smooth as properly carved and finished bokken would be, but Hanami was ecstatic with herself regardless. She freed hers from the earth and tossed the other one to Zero.

The buck caught it, by reflexes more than anything else. He had no idea how to respond to this, no idea how to talk Hanami down from this ridiculous idea… Once more he tried to speak, but his throat was dry as a midsummer drought.

“Ashpaw, will you referee?” Hanami shifted her feet as she clutched the hilt, trying to emulate the stance she had seen Zero take so many times.

For his part, Ashpaw was trying very hard not to betray any emotion. He was unsure of whether this would be highly amusing, a total disaster, or some combination of the two… all he could do was nod speechlessly.

Automatically, Zero tested the weight of his bokken, and found it more-or-less adequate, though nowhere near the comfort of his own sword. Holding the blade out in front of him, he looked up at Hanami… and his rebellious brain immediately began informing him of exactly how she was grasping the hilt wrong, how she shouldn’t be bending her knees so much, how her tail wasn’t held up to counterbalance the bokken’s weight… Easy, Zero, he thought to himself as he swallowed. She wants to do this. It’s a matter of pride, of honor. You can understand that. Nitpicking her stance won’t help. Oh, Gods…he thought with a sinking feeling of horror as he watched her swing the blade experimentally like a club. “Uh,” he said aloud, somehow finding his voice again. “The first lesson in kendo is…” He thought hard, trying to remember the first lesson his father had taught him all those years ago. “Is…” I’m going to hate myself for this.

“I believe you should bow to one another first,” volunteered Ashpaw from beside them. He had taken a few steps back, for his own safety.

“Right!” said Hanami, lowering her blade. “I’ve seen that in plays at the theater.”

Oh Gods, thought Zero. The theater. Don’t tell me she’s only seen swordfighting in the theater…

Slowly, hesitantly, the two squirrels bowed…

“Hey, look.”

“Look where?”

“Up at the bar, next to the big jackrabbit in the Praetor uniform.”

“… Where?”

“Look, you idiot, look where I’m pointing! Over there!”

“Mange, is that her?!”

“Been a while, hasn’t it? Let’s go see if she wants a little company…”

“Hell yeah!”

Faun felt ludicrously happy as she lay with her cheek resting on the mahogany surface of the bar. Her third tankard of Dead God Firewater sat within reach of her hand, though it was almost empty. It didn’t matter; the jackrabbit next to her had been nice enough to pay for three rounds already, and was well prepared to buy a fourth when the time came. All he was asking of Faun in return was to listen to him vent about his family troubles.

“… and ever since he was a leveret, Adelphus has always been Father’s favorite,” the rabbit was saying, gesticulating wildly with one arm and threatening to knock over a passing waitress. “I can be the most decorated Praetor in all of Sankami, and he’ll never notice me because stupid Adelphus and his investments made the family rich…”

“Uh-huh,” Faun murmured, trying her best to look sympathetic. Due to the inn’s ever-present racket and the Firewater swirling around inside her, she could hear at best one word in three of the rabbit’s rant. However, he seemed perfectly willing to go on talking, whether anyone was paying attention or not.

“It makes me sick,” said the rabbit, throwing down a mouthful of his own drink. “Adelphus this and Adelphus that. Me and my other seven siblings, we barely even exist…”

Faun was about to interrupt to ask for a fourth tankard, when she felt a very large and clumsy hand clasp her backside and squeeze. A familiar noxious odor of bad cologne mixed with raging pheromones and cheap alcohol washed over her, and she sat up with a smile. Perfect. The day just kept getting better. “Why, Virgil!” she said without even turning back to look at him. “You’re trying out a new spot, good for you! That’s the only way you’ll learn, broadening your horizons like that. Is Benson here with you?”

The raccoon’s voice hissed in her ear. “Oh, I’m here. We never did pay you back for the last time, Reinaka…”

“… and just yesterday Father said Adelphus could be a Regent within five years…” the rabbit continued, oblivious.

“Pay me back?” Faun searched her memory, which was a bit hazy. “Oh yeah, that! Don’t be silly, you two, it was my pleasure! I enjoyed it, I had fun.”

“We didn’t,” snarled the todd. “Benson and I spend weeks gettin’ that tar out of our fur, didn’t we, Ben?”

“We sure did, Virge. I think we owe you somethin’ in return…”

Faun leaned her head all the way back and smiled sleepily at Virgil’s upside-down angry grimace. “You want to groom me? No, thank you, I don’t really need it today. Why don’t you don’t you two go groom your mothers? I hear they’ve both got fleas.”

Benson stood with his mouth agape while Virgil spun her around on her bar stool. His heavy hands grasped her shoulders with no trace of the affection they had shown to her rump. “Say that again, Reinaka?” he hissed into her face.

She enunciated each word as slowly and clearly as she was able. “Your. Mother’s. Got. Fleas. Go run a comb through her. And hold this for me.”

Her feet left the ground as Virgil hauled her into the air. “Why you smart-mouthed little baita, I oughtta… huh?” He had just felt the small round object that had been dropped into the collar of his robes. Throwing the vixen in Benson’s general direction, he fished into his collar and retrieved it. After a few moments of staring at it, his clouded eyes widened in recognition, and he held it out at arm’s length. “One of your little tricks, eh? Sorry, Reinaka, but that’s just not-” That was as far as Virgil got before the round object opened a tiny hole in itself and sprayed him full in the face with a jet of high-pressure oil. He stood there dripping and blinking stupidly for a few moments… and then he stumbled backwards, screaming and flailing his arms…

“What the hell-” The raccoon managed to sputter before Faun’s heel came down on his foot. Before he could blink, she had slithered behind him and shoved him forward. One of Virgil’s huge, randomly swinging fists hurtled out to meet him as he fell, as if attracted to him by a magnet. Time slowed down… Benson could dimly hear the jackrabbit droning on in the background like the buzzing of a mosquito (“… as if Adelphus didn’t have a big enough ego already…”) as Virgil’s knuckles crept inexorably toward him.

The fox’s fist slammed into his chin as if someone had thrown a brick. Benson was fairly certain he turned a mid-air pirouette as he sailed backwards, arcing over some unfortunate patron’s table. He could barely make out glass flagons beneath him, he only hoped he wouldn’t break them as he fell…

He didn’t. Instead, he snapped the table in half with his weight, upending the patron’s drinks all over himself.

“Godsdammit, not again!” howled an angry but strangely familiar voice above him. “That’s the second time!”

Benson laid there in a daze, the beer already seeping through his clothes and into his fur. Slowly he took stock of the situation: Virgil was still howling with pain somewhere behind him, Faun was long gone, and incredibly, the rabbit was still talking, not having noticed a thing. He tested his jaw; amazingly, it didn’t seem to be broken. Then he looked up at the angry customer… and recognized him, even through his dulled and addled senses, as the same musclebound florin that he and Virgil had been glued to several months back.

That florin was staring at him from under his hooded robes with tiny, bloodshot eyes. There was murder in that stare…

“Come on, Buttercup, calm down,” said Flint the bartender, who was backing up against a far wall, looking to make a swift exit. “It was an accident, he didn’t mean-”

Benson couldn’t help himself. “’Buttercup…?’” he snorted, grinning stupidly up at the skunk. “Your name is ‘Buttercup?!’”

The musclebound florin, Buttercup, narrowed his tiny eyes and cracked his knuckles…

Minutes later, behind an abandoned shack a block away from the Fool’s Rush Inn, Faun stopped for breath, her head spinning. The repellent bomb had worked like a charm; she would have to thank the rather disturbed skunk who had supplied some of the ingredients to her. She was still floating pleasantly in an alcoholic haze, but she realized with a heavy heart that it wouldn’t really do to make an escape attempt while drunk; dumb as Benson and Virgil were, there was always a chance they might get lucky and find her.

With a sigh, she flipped open a rarely used pocket of her boom belt and removed a compression bomb, tossing it at the nearest wall. It ricocheted right back into her hand and split open with a small bang, depositing a densely packed nutshell into her gloved palm. The vixen grimaced and popped it into her mouth, biting down hard… Bitterness flooded her tongue as the shell split open, spilling the herbs inside onto her tongue. She tilted her head back, swallowed the herbs, and spit out the shell with disgust, then sat down to wait.

After a ten-minute interval, the herbs had done their work; Faun was as alert and able-bodied as she ever was. She rarely ever used her sobering poultices; a good buzz was a criminal thing to waste.

Fortunately, another avenue of entertainment soon presented itself. With a cacophony of wild howling and screaming, a very ragged and bloodied Benson Cranz and Virgil Denstern tore past the shack, totally oblivious to her presence, focusing only on running as fast as their clumsy feet could carry them. Barely a second behind them was Buttercup, his concealing cloak torn open to reveal that impressive musculature, shouting bloody murder at the escaping cloud and todd. The three of them kicked up slush and snow as they passed, blanketing the walls of the abandoned shack… by the time it slid back down to the street, Faun was long gone.

She wandered through the Shinboku marketplace some time later, in no hurry now that the three idiots were well off her trail. As long as she kept her hood up around the various samurai and Order Knights patrolling the place and tried not to steal anything too obvious, she was in no immediate danger. Already she was mourning the premature loss of her buzz; what a pity to waste so much of old Flint’s Firewater.

The market was unusually busy in one avenue; a crowd of sentients was gathered under a resplendent white and gold banner above a vendor’s booth. Faun slipped over to see what all the fuss was about. Once she was close enough, she caught what the hobferret attending the booth was saying.

“… enough for everyone, don’t worry! Yes, Lords and Ladies, our gracious Lady Lily has blessed each and every one of these charms, made of pure silver, not alchemically converted, in order to keep the citizens of Shinboku safe from that which threatens them! You there, Milady, can you tuck your kits in their beds at night, confident that they will still be there in the morning…? If not, take one of these charms, and let the Goddess watch over you…”

Faun jostled her way to the front of the crowd, blanching as she was poked and elbowed by innumerable limbs. Finally she was able to get close enough to see the vendor’s sign:

PURE SILVER CHARMS

ABSOLUTELY FREE – PROTECT YOUR FAMILIES

The Silver Order, under the guidance of Grand Mistress Lady Lily, is now offering these BLESSED PROTECTIVE SILVER CHARMS at locations all across Sankami. Each charm is hand-made, inscribed with the Silver Order’s holy seal and the tama of the Goddess of Life.

These charms are offered free of charge, FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION, in order to guard the citizens of Sankami and their families and children from the advances of the FOUL CREATURES originating from the demon forest of TASAKERU. Only the Silver Order’s blessings will keep you and yours safe from the monsters that walk our streets in sentient guise…

Faun had read enough. She shoved her way up to the vendor’s counter and glared at the hobferret, who was still shouting out his wares to the crowd and passersby.

“Hey, you!” Faun yelled at him over the din. “What’s the story with these charm things?”

The ferret flashed her his most dazzling smile. With a swish of his cloak, he produced five ornately carved silver bracelets, which glittered even in the pale light filtering down from the overcast winter sky. He leaned in close to her, as if imparting a great secret. “Ah, my fine young vixen, Lady Lily has convened with our blessed Goddess, who has warned her of a dire threat encroaching from the demon forest. Our Lady ordered us mages to craft these charms as protection, and distribute them free of charge throughout the country.”

Faun frowned. “’Dire threat from the demon forest’? What’s this ‘dire threat’ supposed to be?”

“Milady received orders from the Goddess not to discuss it in detail,” said the ferret. “She only said that the strange events of recent times were all due to these creatures, frightening demons that can take on the shape of sentients in order to harm the innocent…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Faun. “I read the sign. So they’re pure silver, right? The valuable stuff, not that watered-down alchemic silver mages make. Why give them away free?”

The hobferret stroked his long neck. “Milady wanted the Order’s protection to reach everyone, not only those that could afford it. Truly Milady is a wise and generous floris, possessing great-”

“Ugh, shut up and give me those,” said Faun, snatching the five bracelets out of his hand. “And work on your sales pitch, I feel like I need a shower.”

She had melted back into the crowd before he could answer. Once she had reached a more secluded spot, she held one of the charms up to the light, inspecting it. It was heavy, and she had already checked its firmness with her teeth. It was indeed pure silver; the ferret had not been lying.

So why is Lily spreading stories about dangers from Tasakeru? She frowned as she tucked the charm into the pocket of her cloak along with the others. Is she tweaked at us for some reason? And why would the Order be willing to take such a big loss giving these things away…? That “kindness and generosity” goat dung doesn’t hold up…

            Faun decided that there was nothing for it. She would take the matter back to the Outcasts, and hope that they would have a better idea than she of what was going on.

“Squads, halt!”

Heavy, armored footsteps stopped at the forest’s edge. Four rows of identically armored samurai stood there in perfect formation, over two-dozen strong. Their vivid red armor stood out like blood against the show. Each wore a concealing facemask from which only their eyes were visible, the more senior among them had decorated their masks with the visages of grinning demons or beasts of legend. They carried not only their trusted swords, but longbows, short combat knives, and spears… a few had more unconventional weaponry, such as the shuriken and kunai favored by the raccoons.

One of the samurai walked to the front of the group and turned around. His armor alone was different from the others; it was accented with white slashes on the spaulders and breastplate, and trimmed and edged with gold. On his facemask was the snout and fangs of a great dragon; the motif had been incorporated into his helmet as well, which was designed to resemble the creature’s skull, right down to its scales and double set of curving horns. The dragon samurai unbuckled his mask and removed his helmet, shaking his head… He was a relatively young buck squirrel, very handsome, with raven black hair and eyes and an angular face that cut a dashing profile. The only thing that marred his refined appearance was a long, ugly scar that cut across his muzzle and the bridge of his nose, from one cheek to the other. The scar and the area around it were bare of fur; the dragon samurai wrinkled his nose in discomfort as he felt the cold air bite into his bare skin.

“Squads!” he called out to the assembled ranks. “The Order Knights and Mages have already started making inroads into Tasakeru, but the vast majority of this forest is still uncharted. We have no way of knowing what awaits us in here, what kind of dangerous criminals or hostile creatures we will face… We may well be marching to our deaths! But does that scare us?”

“NO, CAPTAIN YAMANO!” came the reply in unison. The standard-bearers at the back lifted their flags for emphasis.

“Indeed not!” said Yamano with a roguish smile. “Brothers, we welcome death, for to give one’s life in the service of the Shogun is the highest honor we can achieve. We are samurai, we are the Militia! Fire and vinegar run through our veins! The blood of our forefathers is spread across this country! Our kind have faced armies, monsters, and terrors unspeakable with courage, skill, and loyalty to one another. For the honor of those who came before us, for the tales of glory of those who will come after, we will complete our mission, and bring these criminals to justice. What do you say to that?”

A chorus of two-dozen voices screamed, “BANZAI!”           

“BANZAI!” Yamano shouted back at them, raising both fists. “That’s the spirit! Squads oh-one-eight and oh-oh-five, take the left and right. Squad oh-four-two, you’re with me in the center! All forward!”           

As the militia began marching into the trees, Captain Yuudai Yamano replaced his helmet and buckled the mask into place. He didn’t want to keep his scar uncovered for long in this weather. His breath fogged up against the inside of the mask; with it on, no one could see him smile.

Be ready for us, Tasakeru, he thought. Here we come.

END OF CHAPTER 2

***A very special thank you to the Onions crowd on TVTropes for helping me with parts of this chapter, and thanks especially to Forzare, my partner-in-crime. – BHS***