under normal circumstances, wouldn’t bother me. The death of a single ronin, disgraced and alone, meant nothing, to anyone. Except, perhaps, Yumeko. For reasons I couldn’t comprehend, she had taken a liking to the dishonored bandit. That, or she was incapable of minding her own affairs. If the clan ordered me to kill him, I would obey, as I had always done. But it might frighten or enrage the girl into leaving, and I couldn’t afford that, either.
I sighed. Everything was getting complicated. First Yumeko, now this ronin. This is why the clan warned you about attachments. You are a weapon; attachments will only slow you down and make you question your objective. Remember, your loyalty is to the Kage, nothing else.
A yelp came from inside the cottage, followed by Yumeko’s hasty apology. I shook my head. It didn’t matter. The ronin was a momentary distraction. Once we were done here, we could get back on the road to the capital and then the Steel Feather temple. I just had to endure until then.
There was a flutter of wings, and a large black crow alighted on the railing a few yards away. Lowering its head, it pecked curiously at the rotting wood, then regarded me with dark, beady eyes. We stared at each other, unmoving in the evening shadows. I thought I could sense a presence behind the crow’s unblinking stare, another pair of eyes watching me from the unknown.
Palming my single kunai, I hurled it at the railing. It struck the wood beneath the crow with a thunk, and the bird took to the air with a startled, indignant caw. I watched it flap away over the rooftop, then I rose and walked to the railing to pull the knife from the wood.
“Tatsumi.”
Yumeko came onto the veranda, the weathered boards creaking softly under her weight, and I slipped the kunai back into my sleeve. “The wound has been cleaned and taken care of,” she told me. “We can go, but Okame says the nearest town is a half day’s walk from here. We might as well spend the night and leave tomorrow morning.”
I stifled another sigh, seeing the pale outline of the moon through the branches of a tree. “If that’s what you want.”
She cocked her head, as if she had been expecting me to argue. “And you won’t try to kill Okame-san?” she asked.
“No.”
“Or leave in the middle of the night?”
“No.”
“Or tie him to a tree and hang sweet potatoes from his ears until the squirrels crawl all over him?”
“...no.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. Though the last one would have been slightly amusing. Denga threatened me with that, once. I didn’t think he was serious, but I could never be sure with Denga-san.”
“Oi, Kage.” The ronin poked his head through the doorframe, smirking at me, and held up a small white bottle. “Care for a drink?” he asked, not seeming hindered by his wounds at all. “We lifted a couple barrels from a cart a few days ago, and I hate to let good sake go to waste. Come on, I’ll pour for you.” He grinned in a rather wolfish fashion, slightly pointed canines glinting in the darkness. “To show my appreciation that you didn’t cut off my head and leave it in the sun to rot.”
I looked away. “I’ll pass.” Drinking sake, shochu and other alcoholic beverages was generally frowned upon by my instructors. My senses had to remain sharp and ready, not dulled by drunkenness.
“All right.” The ronin shrugged. “Your loss, but it’s unlucky to drink sake alone. Come on, then, Yumeko-chan. Guess we’ll have to drink the rest of it ourselves.”
“I’ve never had sake before,” Yumeko said, sounding eager as their footsteps retreated into the hut. “The monks used to serve it for special occasions, but they always kept it away from me. Denga said that he’d sooner set his room on fire himself than let me get a taste for it.”
“Oho, a sake virgin.” The ronin’s voice was gleeful. “Well, you don’t know what you’ve been missing, Yumeko-chan. And those monks of yours sound terribly dull. Never let you have sake, what a crime. We’ll have to remedy that right away.”
I put a hand over my eyes, suddenly regretting that I’d promised not to kill the ronin. Protecting the girl was becoming more and more difficult; not that I cared what she did, but she was beautiful and naive and, by his own admission, the ronin had no honor left to his name. A vision