Promise #28 The Samurai Work For The Daimyo

  Shizu scurried through the street and grinned as she pushed past her target. Her arm brushed against his side and turned to bow in apology. She kept her face low so her target couldn’t see her well.

  “I’m sorry. I was being careless. Please forgive me.”

  The older man scowled and stared down his nose at Shizu. “You better be sorry. Damn kids don’t have any respect for their elders these days.” He turned back around and walked away.

  He had no weapons. If he did, she would have felt it when she bumped into him. She knew now how to find a hidden knife from bumping into someone on their non-dominant side. If they had a knife used for defending, it would be there, so it was easy to pull out with their dominant hand. If she got it wrong, she would already be dead and wouldn’t need to worry about being wrong any longer.

  What she did notice was the coin purse hanging from his hip. It was smaller than the ones she was used to, but it was also the day after taxes and the ones who had full pockets would be the samurai and daimyo in the nearby castle.

  A few more people walked past her until the man would no longer see her or pay her any attention if he turned around. Shizu let the flow of people push her forward while she focused on pulling out a small stick. It was the length of her finger and as thin as a chopstick and sharp on the tip.

  Shizu squeezed past another woman and took in a deep breath. She walked in step behind her target. Her feet silent amongst the boisterous crowd.

  On top of one of the buildings sat Hojo, patiently waiting for her to complete her mission. Since the stall incident, he hadn’t needed to save her again. But this was different. This was her first walking target.

  She sliced the side of the bag and smiled in approval at her handy work. The blade slid through the woven fabric like water, opening a large slit across the bottom. Bronze coins twinkled in welcome for her swift hands. Nothing to celebrate over, but it was enough to make her target worth it.

  You’ve got this, Shizu. Just reach in and you can run.

  The man stopped, almost causing Shizu to run into him. He glanced in the opposite direction of Shizu. She took a step back, so she wasn’t next to him. He turned the other way and reached down to touch his bag to jingle the coins in confirmation of their existence. She needed to be fast. She didn’t know what caught his attention, but if he went the wrong way she would be immediately caught.

  Shizu wiped her sweaty palms across her dirty yukata and sucked in a deep breath. The world slowed to a halt as her focus lingered on the mark. Everything muffled around her outside of the blood pounding through her skull.

  She slid her forefinger and middle into the hole of the bag and collected one coin after another. She placed them into her other hand until it was full and his was beginning to lighten considerably. She shoved the coins she collected into her pocket and backed away, so the crowd engrossed her and split the two apart.

  A giggle escaped her lips as she walked in the opposite direction back toward Hojo.

  “I can’t believe I did it,” Shizu cackled.

  Hojo jumped off the rooftop and walked over to Shizu. The smile on his face was gentle compared to before. He placed a hand on Shizu’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “I’m proud of you. Perhaps the Kitsune wasn’t wrong in not killing you during your training after all.”

  Shizu blushed and handed the coins to Hojo. “Thanks. You trained me well.”

  Hojo turned Shizu around and pushed her down the road. “Come on. Let’s get back to the clan. You’ve earned enough to eat your next meal.”

  They walked down the street together with Hojo leading the way. There were plenty of pathways to reach the hideout, but Hojo continued to lead them down a road that was in the opposite direction. She didn’t want to say anything about it. There were still too many people around that made her nervous.

  “Ever been to a hot spring, Shizu?” Hojo asked, breaking the silence between them.

  “Not that I can remember. Why do you ask?”

  Hojo shrugged. “Just something I think about from time to time. You know, when the clan doesn’t have as strong of a grip on me where would I go? Would I just stay in this town and visit the red-light district like others? Or would I go to the mountains where they say the dead walk amongst the living and yokai are as common as the Sakura blossoms?”

  Shizu tried to imagine such a forest which sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m not sure that would be the best place to go for any of us.”

  “You would think, but I believe it could be fairly peaceful. At least I wouldn’t need to worry about the demands of the clan.” Hojo chuckled and shook his head. “Of course, that’s just wishful thinking. You really expect anyone to be able to get out of the clan?”

  “Well, they did take us in as family.” She slid a little further away from him in case any shinobi were within earshot and decided to kill him for his talk.

  “Family? No, we’re not a family.” He sighed and stopped to look at the sky. “I don’t exactly know what a family is, but the clan isn’t it. Nowhere close.”

  Hojo put a finger to his lips to indicate for Shizu to stay silent as they reached the next corner. They both leaned against the wall while Hojo looked around.

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  He turned back to look at Shizu and nodded. “It’s all clear.”

  They turned the corner and sped up in silence. Hojo continued to peer down each alley before they ventured forward.

  “What’s going on?” Shizu asked in a hushed voice.

  “We’ve been out too long. The Samurai are starting their rounds in the city.” He pointed to the sun setting in the distance. “They like to go hunting around this hour.”

  “But taxes were already collected!”

  Hojo shook his head. “It’s not for the taxes. We’re still wanted people. If we get caught right now with this money, it won’t look good.” He pointed down one of the alleys. “This way. They should have cleared out of this route by now and then we can get to the clan without any problems.”

  They took off at a run through the alley. The buildings were boarded up and run down. The wrenching in her gut returned seeing the buildings. They reminded her of somewhere, but she couldn’t recall, and thinking about it made her head hurt.

  Shizu looked down one of the alleys to see if anyone was in there. It was empty. She didn’t look at where she was stepping, and her foot caught on a rock that jutted out from the dirt.

  Hojo turned and reached out for Shizu but was too slow. She rolled into the dirt and yelped in pain. Small pebbles made their way into her skin lodging themselves into her arms and legs. Her wrist bent sideways, and pain shot up her arm.

  “Shut up! They’ll hear you,” Hojo growled.

  He brushed some of the dirt and pebbles off Shizu’s arm then put a hand on her wrist.

  “Don’t touch it!” Shizu hissed and yanked her wrist away.

  “I said to stop making so much noise,” Hojo said. He grabbed Shizu’s arm and brushed a finger against her wrist.

  The pain surged through her body. She swung an open hand at him and pushed his face away. “Why are you touching it still?” She hissed. “It’s broken.”

  Hojo shook his head. “It’s not broken. Just sprained. You’ll be fine.”

  “But you won’t,” someone growled behind Shizu.

  Shizu and Hojo looked up and gulped. A tall, older man stood over them. A small stubble of a beard shadowed his face to hide part of his scowl. He wore a dull blue almost gray hakama. It began tight around his stomach then flared out around his feet. His kataginu vest matched the trousers and flared out at his shoulders giving him a broader look.

  What caught Shizu’s attention the most was the long katana at the man’s side. Just above it was a second blade that was smaller in size. Both had a small medallion under the braid on the handle. Where she sat, it was hard to decipher the image on it, but knew the only way she could tell was moments before she was cut down.

  Hojo stood up and held a small dagger. “Get out of here. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “And if I decide that today my pockets are a little too empty and my blade a little too thirsty?” The samurai leaned forward and put a hand on the larger blade. “The daimyo hasn’t given us a good payment lately and it smells like you might have my funds.”

  Shizu moved closer to Hojo and the samurai. A faint stench of sake fumed from his breath. Her fingers stretched and curled in anticipation. Something shuffled in his pocket just out of reach. She could take it if the samurai maintained his focus on Hojo.

  Hojo growled and sheathed his dagger. “You’ve got some nerve. What would the daimyo think of you if he found out you were harassing people to line your pockets?”

  The samurai unsheathed his katana halfway to show the sharp silver blade. “I would say he would be glad I took the money from criminals. Now hand over the money or I will cut you both down and take the money anyway.”

  “Hojo,” Shizu said in a low voice. “Just give him the money. I’ll make it back for us another time.”

  He nodded. “You’re not wrong. Fine.” Hojo pulled out a handful of coins and held them out to the samurai. “Take your damn blood money. When the clan controls this region again, we’ll make sure you all pay for this.”

  The samurai smirked and shoved the coins into a small bag. “Don’t expect that to happen anytime soon.” He jutted his chin forward. “Until then, you paid your dues. Now get out of here before I decide you’re not worth continuing to collect from.”

  Hojo didn’t say anything. He knelt and wrapped his arm around Shizu and helped her up. “Let’s get out of here. Can you walk alright?”

  Shizu nodded. “I think so.” She leaned from one foot to the other. Fire blazed through her flesh when she pressed more than a small amount of pressure on it.

  “Good.” He looked up at the samurai with a sharp curl of his lip in a snarl but didn’t say anything else.

  He turned around and hobbled out of the alley with Shizu pushing half of her weight onto him. It was awkward as he towered over her making it harder to walk on anything but her toes.

  “I can’t believe he did that to us,” Hojo growled.

  “Better than him killing us today.”

  She reached into her pocket, her fingers twirling against the bronze coins from her target earlier. A piece of paper from the samurai’s pocket lay underneath the coins. She smirked and pressed her new treasure deeper in.