The Hinomoto Rebellion (12 page)

Aki set her bo against the wall and bowed. “Mezushi Aki,” she said, “Please, I’d like to join you.”

Kanjou looked at D and Andrea, one eyebrow raised. “She’s pretty good with that bo,” commented D. He went on to give an account of what had happened.

“Why were the police after you?” Roni asked, staring at the bo with a look of curiosity.

Aki snorted. “They didn’t need a reason. All they did was yell ‘
ochiudo
!’ and surround me. I wasn’t doing anything but walking down the street.”

“While carrying a weapon,” muttered Andrea under her breath. “But hey, no one pay me any mind or anything. Weird people are just showing up randomly around here, wanting to follow us around, and no one thinks that’s something to worry about.” She pushed off of the wall and walked away, slipping past Roni and Kanjou and disappearing around the corner.

“Did Andrea or D tell you anything about us on the way over?” inquired Kanjou.

Aki shook her head. “No. Well, I had heard a rumor that there was a group of rebels going around. When I heard The Tiger had joined I decided I’d try to find you and offer my services. Are you all really trying to take down the government? You realize that there’s a ton of other
ronin
who would be willing to help with that, right? It’s something that all of us dream about doing, I’m sure!”

The tall brunet looked down at Roni, who nodded eagerly up at him. He turned his head back to Aki and extended a hand. “Welcome to the Aka Ryuu.” he said.

26 opened a cabinet in the small kitchen and peered inside, a frown across her furry snout. “Damn,” she muttered.

It had been about an hour since Andrea and D had brought Aki back with them. The stove was finally hot enough to do some cooking on, and 26 was trying to prepare a late lunch. She opened a few more cupboards, sighed, and pulled out a few canisters.

“26?” said a voice from behind her. 26 turned and looked at Kanjou, who was standing in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the dining hall. He raised his eyebrows, a look of concern on his face. “Everything okay?”

She opened one of the canisters and peered inside. “We’re running out of food, Kanjou.”

He looked over his shoulder and watched Roni talking to Aki for a second, then he stepped into the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind him. “Really?”

26 nodded. “Yes, really. We only bought food enough for 4 people when we last went on a shopping trip. Even adding Andrea was a bit of a strain on our reserves, now with both D and Aki here as well, we’ll be lucky to make it another two days.”

Kanjou sighed. “Great, we’re low on money too,” he mumbled, hanging his head a little.

 

“We could ask Shinrai-“

 

Kanjou quickly cut 26 off. “No. Shinrai has done too much for us already.”

 

26 put down the canister she was holding and scowled at Kanjou. “Normally, I’d agree with you, Kanjou, but we
need
food.”

“And we also need Shinrai’s help. He’s putting his own life on the line because he believes that we can save this country. I won’t be a further burden to him.”

“What about our lives? We’re risking just as much as he is! If not more!”

Kanjou put out his hands and silently pleaded for 26 to keep her voice down. “Please, not with Roni in the next room,” he said. “I’ll think of something, I promise.”

26 groaned and rolled her eyes, then smiled at Kanjou. “Alright, fine. But only because you’ve never steered us wrong before,” she though for moment, then frowned at him, “Just don’t go doing anything stupid, Kanjou. This group is held together by you. If you were gone, I don’t think Roni and Fushi would ever recover.”

He nodded, a touch of sadness in his green eyes. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

 

When Fushicho wandered in to the training room, she wasn’t surprised to see Andrea there. The silver-haired girl stood in the center of a mat, her arms raised and legs poised, awaiting the movements of a foe that lay in her mind. Fushi stopped and watched from just inside the door as Andrea launched her body it action, grace mixed with fury as her fists and feet smashed through the air in a ballet of deadly force.

Andrea moved her way down the dusty, bedraggled mat, pretending to block, strike, and throw a string of enemies that existed only in battles past. She ended the set with a flying kick, landing in a crouch at the end of the mat directly in front of Fushi.

The red-head let out a round of clapping, causing Andrea to lift her head and look up at her. Fushicho smiled. “That’s was beautiful,” she said.

Andrea stood and looked Fushi directly in the eyes. She didn’t say a word and Fushi got a clear, long look into the depths of her blue pupils before Andrea turned away, heading back toward the other end of the mat.

“Have you ever thought about teaching martial arts?”Fushi called after her, stepping on to the mat.

Andrea paused. “No,” she replied after a moment, “I prefer to keep my skills as sharp as I can instead of wasting time baby-sitting other people.”

“I think you’d be a great teacher. You have a lot of knowledge that would be useful to others.”

 

Andrea offered no reply to that, so Fushi continued, “How long have you been studying?”

 

“More than half my life.”

Fushi could sense that something was bothering Andrea– something aside from the normal chip on her shoulder anyway. She wasn’t as good at reading people as Roni or Kanjou, but she knew a hawk from a handsaw. It wouldn’t take anyone who was paying attention long at all to see that Andrea battled with herself to hide something.

“That long, huh?” Fushicho replied, continuing to walk onto the mat. “I’ve only really been training for three years myself. Kanjou’s a great teacher, but there’s only so much he knows.”

Andrea turned, “Is there something you
want
?” she snapped. “Is it a crime to try to have a conversation with someone you’re going to be fighting alongside?”

The Tiger thought for a second. “You know,” she said, smirking, “my old sensei always told me that a martial artist does not know someone until they have been in the ring together.” She put her fists up and snapped her legs into an offensive stance. “How about it? Unless leader-boy hasn’t taught you how to spar yet?”

Fushi hesitated, knowing there was no way she could beat Andrea.
Well, I doubt a friendly spar would hurt. Maybe it will help me understand her a bit more so I can help the others reach out to her. Seems to be the only type of talking she wants to do anyway.
With a shrug the red-head put up her fists and widened her stance. “Alright, but just a friendly spar, right?” she said.

“Of course,” Andrea smirked and held her head so that her hair threw dark shadows fell over her eyes.

Fushicho took a deep breath and prepared to remember every move that Andrea made. Somewhere in the woman’s martial arts was the secret to figuring her out, the key to unlocking her coldness. Fushi had been fearing for the past two days that Kanjou and Roni had brought back a government spy or a mercenary that was setting them up. Maybe being on the wrong side of Andrea’s punches and kicks would allow her to quiet the fears which Roni assured her were crazy.

They both waited for the other to make the first move, sizing each other up by examining their stances. Fushi observed that Andrea’s stood with her arms close to her body, leaving only one small opening that would be hard to hit and easy to defend.

Suddenly Andrea lunged, bringing up her leg to execute a roundhouse kick. Fushicho adjusted herself into a defensive stance, moving to block the kick with her left arm. But, halfway through the kick, Andrea’s leg dropped to the ground, her other leg coming up and flying toward Fushicho’s head.

Caught off guard, Fushi had no choice but to duck under the kick. The move nearly sent her on to her backside as she started to lose her balance.

Andrea smirked and backed up a step as Fushi leaped to her feet and put up her fists. “See? I know more about you now than I ever could have learned from talking.”

Fushicho offered only one reply, which was a straight punch launched at Andrea’s head. Andrea seemed surprised by the directness of the attack and reacted a bit slower than normal. She dodged the punch just barely, moving her head only an inch out of the way as she took a step forward and brought the back of her fist into Fushicho’s stomach.

The red-head reeled back a few steps, coughing and clutching her belly. Andrea straightened up and stood with her back straight, looking smug. “I thought... we were having... a friendly spar!?” Fushi gasped between coughs.

Andrea shrugged. “Too used to dealing with big tough guys, I guess” she replied flippantly.

Fushi’s eyes narrowed and flashed behind her flaming red hair. She had almost recovered enough to continue the sparring when Andrea turned her back to her.

“We’re done here,” the Tiger snorted as she walked away, heading out in to the hall and disappearing.

Fushi stood in the training room for a few minutes, alone and in silence. The dull throbbing in her stomach subsided as she thought over what the skirmish had just taught her about their silverhaired scoundrel.
She keeps herself closely guarded, her perceived weaknesses easy to defend and nearly impossible to discover. She makes you think she’s going to do one thing, but then she does another. She’ll take the blame for things even if they weren’t her fault, but still try to keep looking like she’s in charge.

When Kanjou walked in to the training room, he was shocked to see Fushicho standing in the center of it, one hand on her stomach, and a look of triumph on her face. “Fushi?” Kanjou said, walking toward her.

She looked at him with excitement visible across her face. “I know why we can’t get Andrea to open up,” she said breathlessly.

Kanjou raised an eyebrow and waited for her to let him in on her epiphany. Clearly she was thrilled about whatever had just happened to bring her sudden insight.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk,” explained Fushi, her eyes gleaming with elation, “it’s that we’re not speaking her language!”

Later that night, clear across the city, a few warm lights glowed in the windows of a large mansion that sat nestled behind high walls and meticulous landscaping. The estate was quiet, most of the servants having called it a night. In the library on the west wing of the ground floor though, Shogun Kunota and Daimyo Shinrai were having a very serious discussion.

“I just wish I knew if I was doing the right thing.” Shogun Kunota turned from the window that looked out over the veranda to look at his associate, who was poised in a high-backed leather chair. They had the windows open, the light gauzy curtains fluttering in the warm breeze, and a video screen in the fireplace was playing video of a crackling fire that threw flickering yellow light across the room. Everything in the room was deep and rich, from the cherry wood tables to the plush, deep colored carpeting that was in pristine condition. There were half a dozen luxurious high-backed leather chairs in a half circle around one side of the fireplace, and on the other side was a leather couch and leather chaise lounge. All of the chairs and couches had brass tacks holding the deep brown hide on and adding sparkle and light to the chairs as they glistened in the simulated fire.

Near the opposite window from the one Kunota was standing at was a huge desk, also deep red wood to match the other table. It was clean and neat, as though it were there more for an accent to the room rather than for any useful function. Some brass desk accessories sat on the edge of the desk: a pencil cup with two rosewood pens in it, a letter opener, and a paper tray with a few sheets of blank paper in it. Flanking the window behind the desk were six bookshelves, all filled to the brim with tomes on every subject from war to politics to history to philosophy.