Prelude: Seppun Koshiro

[akarmicanomaly]

For a single, fleeting moment Koshiro's on and control slips.

A hollow pit in his stomach grows and it cannot be filled quickly enough with a hot anger that floods and roars, tightening his chest and muscles. The dull ache of his shoulder fades as if gone and then...

The unerring certainity of Bushido overcomes them all, like cold steel. It reins in his emotions replacing them with control and absolute direction. There is no question or even thought, it is a knowing as simple and natural as existing.

What an honourable samurai would do, what Tsudao would have done, what I will do.

The unbidden memory of the once-Empress cements his path. His gaze falls from the distance and he regards the boy, his voice taking on that tone of command he reserved for the battle-field. The one he expressed admiration to his troops with - the boy had earned that much at least.

'œI understand heimin-san, you have honoured your mother's memory with your bravery. It appears I had momentarily forgotten my duty to re-educate a samurai to his responsibilities in the celestial order.'

He waits for the doshin to arrive.

[TetNak]

The young boy's eyes never look up, "You honor me, Seppun-sama!" He seems quite take by the samurai's politeness. The ronin he had encountered was obviously quite different.

It takes far too long for the doshin to arrive. Koshiro is standing there for a quarter of an hour before one of them strolls up. He is wearing a decently kept kimono, a tonfa hanging through the loop of his obi, and a rough and patchy beard over his face.

He looks around, not noticing the samurai at first, and asks, "What is going on?" The doshin looks slightly annoyed by being bothered.

OOC

Just in case you didn't know.. Rokugan hour = 2 real hours

[akarmicanomaly]

Koshiro passes much of the time reading from a copy of Matsu Nimuro's battleplans. He had obtained them after they were made public a decade ago to silence any claims of trickery or subterfuge by the Crane, they were the same plans he had used a week later to take Toshi Ranbo in the name of the Lion clan. Even after all this time, they were nothing less than brilliant.

He is still courteous when the Doshin lazily saunters up scratching himself, though his voice is strained at the apparent laxity the Doshin takes his duties with. He wastes little time with pleasantries as he steps forward.

'œI am Seppun Koshiro. I require your assistance regarding the matter of the ronin known as '˜Koto'.'

[TetNak]

The doshin looks up, almost surprised, "Oh, Seppun-sama!" the man calls, bowing low. He has a bit more backbone, perhaps, than others and looks up toward Koshiro, but never in the eyes.

"I know of him. He recently came to town. Demanding all sorts of things." He begins to slow, frowning and shaking his head, "He can do what he likes, of course, so long as it does not effect our betters." He begins to stammer, "He has friends. With the Scorpion. We thought best to let him have his way."

[akarmicanomaly]

'œThen that is unfortunate for them, for they will find themselves devoid of his friendship for some time. Please, where can I find him?'

Koshiro leans close and speaks, his voice low, stern and full of resolve. 'œThat ronin is responsible for his mother's death.' He motions to the heimin boy beside him, before leaning closer, enough for a whisper that details the consequences of the doshin's decision.

'œHis mother is one of the many victims of Koto's dishonour. I will not abide his blight any longer in this city, not so close to the blessed Daughter of Heaven. He will no longer have his way.' He stands up straight again, looking expectantly to see if the doshin will accompany them or leave them.

[TetNak]

The doshin is slightly confused. "Where can you find who? Koto? I know not, Seppun-sama." He shrugs, "He is a samurai. The life of a heimin such as we is no crime at his hands." The man seems to be reasoning why he did nothing, which is probably not the reason, as fear is the way of these peasants when a samurai is present.

[akarmicanomaly]

Koshiro inwardly sighs, expecting as much from the doshin. Still it was a heavy feeling of disappointment that weighed on his shoulders. To live a life not guided by the clarity and purity of purpose that Bushido brought, it was something he could not comprehend. How could anyone let such a dog roam free to bite and savage as he wills? Especially in this blessed city?

He kneels next to the boy, knowing his offer to Akira-san is drawing closer as well. It had started such a fine day as well.

'œIt will take me some time heimin-san to find him. I would recommend you stay with friends and somewhere safe until I return. He will learn the error of his ways.' He needs not to make any promise, a true samurai's word was his action and deed. He rises and stills himself, fighting the urge to hunt this ronin down no matter the time or distance surrendered.

'œI will need your name heimin-san, so I can bring word once this deed is done.'

[TetNak]

The boy holds his stomach and side. His ribs are probably broken. He smiles weakly and bows, "Thank you, Seppun-sama. My family's honor will be returned a thousand times." He take a labored breath, "I am called Ujo," he says with a feint smile.

[akarmicanomaly]

Koshiro nods and rises, bidding goodbye to the young heimin. He only glances back once as he leaves before letting the bustle of the streets overwhelm and distract him. Thoughts of Deathseekers, Unicorns, Scorpions, corrupt doshins and dishonourable ronin weighing heavily upon his mind and shoulders.

He heads to the barracks to attend to any duties his gunso may require and to freshen up before his tea with Akira that night.

[TetNak]

The Seppun walks away from the scene of the harsh reality of the world of peasants and those that would take advantage of them. There is no honor in it, but most ronin have a definite lack of honor anyway. Koshiro returns to the barracks, which are simple, but nicely decorated. His gunso is not in the barracks currently, and therefore he has no task to perform. Koshiro doubts that will last as war is coming, and perhaps an evening of tea will be his last relaxation in a while ...