Daughter of Doji
by
Shawn Carman and Rich
Wulf
Tsuma
was a city only by the most generous of standards. It was a small city, removed
from the more heavily highways and with little to offer in the way of comforts
for the odd visitor. There had been some speculation among those who lived
there that the relocation of the Emperor’s residence to Toshi Ranbo five years
ago might change Tsuma’s status, but that had never materialized. The truly
unusual thing about Tsuma, however, was that despite its small size, it boasted
an unusual number of inns, sake houses, theaters, geisha houses, and other
services to comfort and supply weary travelers. Most of these were closed
throughout most of the year, only to be opened for a few weeks in the spring
during the most famous gempukku ceremony in all of Rokugan – the Topaz
Championship.
Or
at least that’s what Sakura had always heard, anyway. She had not been to Tsuma
since she was a very small child, and had no memory of the place. Try as she
might to remain calm and collected, there was an excitement she could not deny.
As she guided her horse through the serene bamboo forest that surrounded the
road to Tsuma, she searched her memory for anything that might remind her of
this place, remind her of who she used to be. Her deep blue eyes searched
everywhere, taking in every detail.
The
man riding on her left chuckled. Sakura turned to him with a smile. “What
amuses you, sensei?”
“You,
little blossom,” the older man said in his usual gruff tone. “You will not pass
your gempukku for several days yet. It is only natural to feel excitement. That
you struggle to conceal it is a testament to your character, but do not be so
eager to cast aside your youth. Enjoy yourself for a few last days before duty
takes its place in your heart.”
“Even
if I must one day take on both our clans’ burdens, there will still be room in
my heart for you, honored sensei.” She smiled at him demurely.
Matsu
Atasuke laughed despite himself, and smiled a wistful smile. Sakura had noticed
the change in her teacher’s demeanor of late, but could not determine what had
caused it. “A child’s heart has room for the whole world,” he said, “but we do
not remain children forever.” Despite the bleak words, he smiled again. “But
let us speak of more pleasant things.” He gestured to the city looming before
them. “It must be exciting for you to finally return home, to the lands of the
Crane Clan.”
Sakura
said nothing for several long moments. She adjusted the silken sleeves of her
exquisite blue kimono, markedly different for the two mons on her right
shoulder. “I’ve been away for so long,” she finally said. “I do not know what
to expect.”
Atasuke
nodded. “It may be difficult for you, a Crane trained among the Lion. But you
will be welcomed home, by those who matter.”
Sakura
frowned. She was not so certain, but would not speak against her sensei, even
with no witnesses other than the silent trees. “Hai, sensei,” she said.
•
Though
she remembered nothing of Tsuma, once Sakura was within the city it was
difficult not to think of it as home. The streets teemed with vendors,
peasants, and samurai of all clans. The clamor reminded her of Toshi Ranbo, or
of those days when multiple classes of students had been in training together
at Shiro Matsu. The noise of so many people in one place, oddly enough, was
quite soothing to her. Atasuke remained his usual surly self, scowling at any
who drew too near unless they wore the colors of the Lion Clan.
Sakura
caught a glimpse of blue through the sea of jumbled colors. She craned her neck
to get a better look at the other Crane. She saw a familiar topknot, bleached
pure white, familiar crystal blue eyes, a face turned up in a mischievous smile
as he passed idle time flirting with a young Unicorn samurai-ko. Sakura’s face
lit up with glee. She glanced back at Atasuke, who gave a crooked smile and
nodded sharply at her. “Nagori!” she called out as she leapt from her horse.
“Nagori-sama!”
The
Crane stopped where he was and turned about, looking this way and that for the
source of the voice. She hurriedly made her way through the crowd toward him.
“Sakura,” he said, his pleasant surprise evident. “I did not expect you here so
soon!”
Sakura
ran up to him, stopping only short of embracing Nagori. Instead, she fixed him
with an embarrassed smile and bowed deeply in respect.
“Sama?”
Nagori asked with a wry grin. He glanced at the Utaku maiden he had been
speaking to a moment before, noting her suddenly icy expression. “Etsumi-chan,
might I introduce Doji Sakura, here for her gempukku. She is my cousin’s
daughter, though I have always looked upon her as a niece.”
“A
pleasure,” she said, her demeanor becoming cordial once more as she gave Sakura
a brief bow.
“I
did not know you would be here, uncle,” Sakura said. “I assumed you would be busy
assisting Lord Hachi.”
“Ah,”
Nagori said with a laugh. “Thankfully, I have not advised the Emerald Champion
in any official capacity in some years now.”
The
young woman’s face fell. “He dismissed you?”
“Not
at all,” Nagori replied. “But he finally came to realize that he was smart
enough not to need my help any more and I came to accept that I prefer the
pampered life of the court to chasing bandits and demons with the Emerald
Legions.”
“The
life of a hero was not to your liking, Nagori-san?” Etsumi asked.
“Hero?”
Nagori replied with mild surprise. “Yasuyo and Kurohito are the heroes of my
family. I am just a storyteller.”
“Bah,”
Etsumi retorted. “I have heard of your valor in the Battle of Otosan Uchi,
helping the survivors to escape the Dark Lord through the tunnels beneath the
city. Quite a tale.”
“Well of course it was quite a tale,” Nagori replied with a wink. “I was the one who wrote it.” He looked back to Sakura. “Your father sends his regrets, Sakura,” he said. “He…”
“I
know,” Sakura said abruptly. “I know my father’s responsibilities to the
Emperor.” She quickly looked away, beckoning to Atasuke. “Uncle, permit me the
honor of introducing my sensei. This is Matsu Atasuke, a decorated warrior of
the Lion Clan. Atasuke-sama, this is my father’s esteemed cousin, Doji Nagori.”
Atasuke
bowed. “Doji Nagori, former aide to the Emerald Champion. I have heard much of
your valor and have read many of your works. I am honored.”
Nagori
bowed as well. “It is I who am honored. You have watched over Sakura-chan for
many years. The Doji owe you a great debt for protecting such a precious
treasure.”
“Precious?”
Atasuke rubbed his chin. “Perhaps you mean to say precocious.”
Nagori’s
eyes widened slightly, but Sakura burst out laughing. She was relieved to see
Atasuke’s normal humor again, rare as it had been of late. Thankfully, Nagori
began laughing as well, and Atasuke’s smile was genuine. “I was about to return
to my family’s estate to take my midday meal,” Nagori offered. “It seems like
an excellent opportunity to spend some time with family. Would you care to
accompany us, Atasuke-san? Etsumi-chan? Both of you would be more than welcome
in my home.”
“My
thanks, Nagori-sama,” Etsumi answered, “but I must make certain my sister,
Jamaira, is prepared for the tournament. Perhaps another time.”
“And I fear I could not interfere in a family
matter,” Atasuke said politely. “Sakura knows what inn I am staying in if she
requires me before the ceremonies begin tomorrow.”
“You
would be welcome to stay with us,” Nagori insisted. “The Doji estates here are
more than adequate.”
“Again,
thank you,” Atasuke replied. “Your offer is kinder than I deserve, but I have a
personal matter I need to attend to while in Tsuma.” He hesitated for a moment.
“Would you know if there are any representatives of the Asahina family present,
Nagori-sama?”
“Yes,
of course.” Nagori thought for a moment. “I have heard that Asahina Barako is
present to officiate over some of the rituals, but I have not seen her
personally. I believe the family maintains a small shrine near the city’s
eastern edge. You may be able to find her there, or someone else who might be
able to assist you.”
“Thank
you, Nagori-sama. I am in your debt.” The warrior bowed deeply, and Nagori
returned the gesture. “Be prepared for tomorrow, Sakura. I know you will make
your family and school proud.”
•
The
Crane Champion’s estates in Tsuma were modest compared to Kyuden Doji but
possessed all the comforts and luxuries the Crane could offer. There was room
enough for perhaps a dozen guests. In this particular instance, the estate was
only half full, though other houses in the city were at full capacity.
“How is your sister?” Sakura asked during the wonderful meal she and Nagori enjoyed in the main chamber. For Sakura, it was the finest meal she had eaten in years. The Lion were excellent hosts, but their cuisine could not compare to her clan’s finest chefs. “Is it true that she is betrothed to the Shogun?”
Nagori
winced. “It is true, though I recommend you not ask about it if you see her any
time in the near future. While she intends to do as your father commands… let
us say the idea does not set well with her.”
“I
cannot imagine Yasuyo as a wife, managing Kaneka’s estate,” Sakura admitted.
“It’s
probably best if you don’t waste time imagining such a thing,” Nagori replied
with a grin. “I do not think Yasuyo would become that sort of wife. You are
more likely to find the Bastard chained to the home running the finances, I
think.”
Sakura
laughed. “I missed Yasuyo,” she said. “I hope I see her again soon. There are
so many I have not seen in so long, it’s almost difficult to remember them all.
What happened to the Kakita twins?”
Nagori
looked at Sakura curiously.
“Kaneo
and Yozo, my teachers at the Academy,” she said. “They always made me laugh,
they way they argued over the finest points of Kakita’s writings.”
Nagori
grew strangely silent. “Yozo was corrupted in the Rain,” he said softly. “Kaneo
was forced to kill him. He no longer teaches at the Academy. He marches with
Daidoji Kikaze now, hunting the Bloodspeakers. He is not the cheerful man you
once knew.”
Sakura
looked down at her plate, her good cheer suddenly gone. Neither said anything
for several moments. Finally, Sakura spoke in little more than a whisper. “I
had hoped what I saw in Lion lands was not repeated elsewhere in the Empire.”
She looked up at her cousin. “But it was, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,”
he said.
A
noise from the foyer drew their attention. There was the sound of muttered
cursing. Sakura looked up in surprise, but Nagori gave her a bemused look.
Moments later, an older man in Crane colors stepped into the chamber. His white
hair was shaven close to his scalp; his weathered face was a mask of
irritation. He glanced up at Nagori and Sakura and frowned, his eyes shining a
peculiar golden color. “Forgive me,” he said. “I did not wish to intrude.”
“Not
at all,” Nagori replied. “Join us, by all means.” He gestured to the older man.
“Sakura-chan, I assume you know this man by reputation if not by personal acquaintance.”
“Doji
Reju-sama,” she said, rising gracefully from her seat and bowing deeply to the
old samurai. Reju merely stared back without speaking, bowing only
perfunctorily to her. Sakura noticed that the right sleeve of his kimono was
pinned up, covering an arm far shorter than it should be.
“Sakura
will be taking her gempukku at the Topaz Championship this year,” Nagori
explained
“You wear both the Kakita and Matsu mon on
your sword arm,” he said bluntly. “I have never seen that before.”
“Yes,
Reju-sama,” she said respectfully as they seated themselves across from Nagori.
“I trained for the last five years at Shiro no Yojin, as part of the Crane and
Lion’s peace treaty in Toshi Ranbo. I studied for four years before that at
Kyuden Kakita.”
Reju
nodded as he accepted a bowl of rice from a servant. “Impressive. I had no idea
the Matsu allowed any Kakita student to train among them.”
“Sakura
is a special case,” Nagori replied. “She is my cousin’s daughter.”
Reju
looked back at Sakura with a start, appraising her with new eyes. “I was
unaware that Kurohito-sama had any children,” he said, bowing more deeply to
her. “Forgive my ignorance, Sakura-sama.”
“It’s
quite alright,” she said softly. “My father does not speak of me often.”
“Kurohito
has never been a sentimental man,” Nagori interrupted, “I am certain it was
easier not to speak of you than to dwell upon the memory of a daughter so far
away.”
“I
have eaten enough, I think,” Sakura said, gently pushing her plate aside. “I
must prepare for the competition.” She rose and quickly left the chamber.
“I
take it Lord Kurohito was not extraordinarily pleased to be blessed with a
daughter,” Reju said quietly, after she had gone.
“My
cousin would never say such a thing,” Nagori replied. “Our clan has a proud
tradition of famed samurai-ko, extending back to Lady Doji and the Thunder,
Konishiko. If the Fortunes blessed him with a daughter he would not question
them. Such an act would be unseemly.”
“Of
course,” Reju said, looking off the way Sakura had gone. “I wish her good
fortune.”
“I’m
certain she will perform impeccably at the championship,” Nagori answered.
“I
was not speaking of the Championship,” Reju replied.
•
The
first day of the Championship went well. Sakura had lost the sumai contest, but
she had expected as much. She had fared well, but her small size was simply too
much of a disadvantage in such a competition. The athletics, horsemanship, and
heraldry contests had gone far better. Her only competition in the Law,
Etiquette, & Bushido contest had been a particularly passionate and
eloquent ronin. Sakura had been selected as the winner, though she wondered if
her answers were truly better or the judges chose her out of disdain for the
young masterless samurai.
When
the day’s competition was over, Sakura noticed the ronin sitting alone on a low
wall outside the dojo. He was eating a rice ball and looking about the city
with a strangely detached expression. After a moment’s consideration, she
walked over to him. “I wished to compliment your performance today,” she said.
“You did very well.”
“Very
well for a ronin, you mean,” he said. “That’s what all the others said.
Sakura
gave the young man a severe look. “I am a Doji,” she said firmly. “I let none
other speak for me. You did very well.”
The
ronin smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he said with a distinct air of sincerity.
“I suppose I’m a bit defensive. I haven’t exactly been welcomed here.”
The
comment struck Sakura as strange. “Did you expect to be?”
“Not
really,” he admitted. “I was surprised to be invited. I thought I might be
treated with some measure of respect. It would have been a pleasant surprise.”
“What
is your name?” she asked.
“Hyou,”
the ronin replied. He grinned. “But only for another day or so. Have you
selected an adult name yet?”
“I
have a few in mind,” Sakura said uncomfortably. In truth, she had been giving
the matter a great deal of thought. No one name seemed right to her.
“I
have chosen Kusawa,” Hyou said with undisguised pride.
“That
sounds familiar,” Sakura said, furrowing her brow. “Is that from a play?”
“Yes,”
Hyou nodded. “An old Scorpion epic. It’s the name of a hero who sacrifices
everything for his destiny, the love of the Empress’ daughter. He dies in the
end, of course, but he meets his destiny. I found it very inspiring.”
“That
seems like an odd choice.”
“I
have a great destiny.” Hyou’s voice was full of conviction. “I must choose a
name worthy of it.”
“A
great destiny?” she asked. “How are you so sure?”
“My
father serves a minor Crab lord, though he has not been offered fealty,” Hyou
said. “I will serve him as well, and become a Crab. I shall become so great a
hero that I will be given the greatest reward imaginable.” He drew himself up
proudly. “I will be the founder of my own minor clan one day.”
Sakura
could not help but laugh. Her hand flew to her mouth, fearful that she would
offend the strange young man. But Hyou only smiled at her. “Or, perhaps, I am
destined to fall in love with a princess from the Ivory Kingdoms. Or perhaps I
will become a Fortune. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Choose
wisely,” she said with a wry smile.
“I
intend to,” he replied, nodding soberly. “All I know is that I must believe I
have a great destiny.” He was quiet for a long moment. “If I do not believe it,
who will?” He stood and collected his belongings. “I wish you good fortunes,
Sakura-chan. Be certain of the name you choose when the time comes, for I have
no doubt that your destiny is great as well.” A mischievous grin flickered
across his features. “Perhaps even as great as mine!”
The
young ronin disappeared into the busy streets of Tsuma, leaving Sakura to
ponder the dubious wisdom of his words.
•
The
second day of the Topaz Championship began with the most eagerly anticipated
competition: the weapons contest. Each student chose their preferred weapon and
engaged in an open duel. There was no iaijutsu here, but rather a wide variety
of arts practiced by countless different fighting styles. The weapons were
blunted or even wooden, but there were often injuries all the same. It was a
dangerous contest, but one that most competitors and spectators looked forward
to the most.
When
Sakura’s name was called, she stepped forward and selected a boken. It seemed a
bit heavier than the blades she had trained with, but she knew that most katana
would be very close in weight. The rounded blade felt quite heavy in her hands,
heavier than the practice blades she was accustomed to using. She tucked the
blade into her obi.
The
name of her opponent was announced. Yoritomo Juchiro. Sakura felt her
apprehension grow, but tried to stifle it. She had never faced an opponent
familiar with the Mantis fighting style, which utilized a variety of strange,
unorthodox weapons. This would be challenging.
Juchiro
strode up to the weapons rack and grabbed a pair of blunted kama. He gave her
an arrogant look, then sneered as if to dismiss her entirely, raising the
weapons to salute the crowd before circling to face her again. She smiled
sweetly and folded her hands against her chest, bowing primly from the waist.
The two walked to the circle and awaited the judges’ acknowledgement. The judge
bowed to the two contestants, allowing them to begin when ready. Sakura closed
her eyes and bowed her head, focusing on her opponent.
“I
saw you talking to the ronin,” Juchiro muttered for her ears alone. “You two
make a delightful couple.” He glanced sidelong at her to gauge her reaction,
but she did not give him the satisfaction. “You make me sick,” he continued.
“You’re soft and weak, Crane, always smiling and laughing with everyone. You
don’t belong here with warriors.”
“Stand
down or I’ll send you home in shame,” Juchiro said, loud enough for the crowd
to hear.
Sakura
made a graceful gesture with her right hand, opening it palm up above the hilt
of her boken, as if offering a gift. Her eyes opened, soft liquid blue now
replaced with crystal steel. The Mantis, in mid-charge toward her, stumbled a
bit when he saw the look in her eyes.
A
single loud crack echoed through the tournament circle, accompanied by a fierce
shout. In one instant, Sakura had opened her eyes to meet her opponent. In the
next she stood two feet behind him, sword draw and held extended in one hand.
Juchiro lay groaning in the dust, clutching his chest in pain. One of his kama
lay broken on the ground beside him. Juchiro began to crawl to his knees,
reaching for his remaining kama. Sakura looked over her shoulder, fixing him
with a seething, hateful gaze. The Mantis thought better of it and remained
lying on the ground where he was.
“Sakura is the victor,” the judge said.
Sakura sheathed her weapon,
closed her eyes and let the battle fury leave her. Her fierce expression
transformed into her usual demure smile. She walked over to where Juchiro lay
on the ground, doubled over in pain. Sakura extended her hand to him. The look
of fear in his eyes saddened her, for some reason.
“Our fight is over,” she said
softly. “Let me help you.”
The Mantis groaned in pain, then
reached up and let Sakura help him to his feet.
•
The
Topaz Championship was over. The ceremonies, grandiose and elaborate as always,
had finally concluded. Nagori and a young Crane samurai-ko walked side-by-side
through the bamboo thicket toward the Doji estate. Neither said anything for
some time, until Nagori chuckled gently. “I suppose I shall have to learn not
to call you Sakura anymore. It will be difficult.”
She
looked up at him and smiled. “You can call me Sakura if you like, uncle.”
He
shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t be proper. Not for the Crane Lord’s
daughter, and certainly not for a Topaz Champion.” He gestured to the golden
kabuto she carried reverently. “Your father will be proud.”
“I
hope so,” she said honestly.
“You
know that he will,” Nagori countered. He was silent for another few moments,
then shook his head. “I think he will be somewhat surprised at your choice of a
name, however.”
“Matsu
Domotai was a great hero,” she answered. “My sensei fought beside him many
times, told me the stories of how he lived and how he died. I can think of no
more worthy name.”
“Your
sensei seemed very moved by the choice,” Nagori observed.
Domotai
smiled again. “It was for his sake as well,” she said. “So long as I carry a
Matsu’s name, my father will remember the friendship our clan promised with the
Lion.”
“I
hope you are right,” Nagori said. “Atasuke is a good man. I had a chance to
speak with him during the final rounds of the tournament. You have charmed him
as you have charmed the rest of us, you know.”
“Except
father, perhaps,” she said sullenly.
The
two walked in silence for a time, then Nagori turned to Domotai with an
uncomfortable expression. “Domotai, there is something I must confess,” he
said.
She
looked at him with concern. Nagori was not one prone to guilt or self-doubt.
“I
am a fool,” he said. “I am, however, a charming fool and it amuses me to make
myself appear clever. Sometimes, I fear, I do too good a job at this and others
begin to mistake me for a wise man. Sometimes in my arrogance even I believe
it, and I offer my advice to others without considering the consequences.”
Domotai
frowned. “What is it you mean, uncle?”
“It
was not your father’s idea to foster you to the Lion,” he said. “Kurohito did
not send you away out of disappointment. He has never been disappointed in you Domotai… well no more than he is
ever disappointed in any of us.” Nagori smirked.
“What
are you saying, uncle?” she asked.
“You
know your father well enough to know he does not express sentiment easily,”
Nagori said. “He is a warrior, burdened with rulership of the mightiest of the
Great Clans. He was very young when you were born. Being a father, along with
being everything else the Empire has expected of him… well it has been
difficult to say the least. He has only ever wished for success for you. When
he forged his alliance with Matsu Nimuro I was the one who suggested that
perhaps you might play a role, that it might benefit the future Champion of the
Crane to learn of our enemies first hand. He was eager to bless his daughter
with such a role in our clan’s history.”
“But
the Matsu are not our enemies,” Domotai replied.
Nagori
looked at her and smiled. “Then perhaps this fool did something wise after
all,” he said. He took a scroll from his obi and offered it to Domotai. “Your
father wanted you to have this. He regretted that he could not be here.”
“A
poem?” Domotai asked, eyes widening as she unrolled the scroll. “I never
thought father was much of a poet.”
“He
is the Lord of the Doji,” Nagori replied. “He is whatever he wishes to be.”
Domotai
opened her mouth to read the poem, but Nagori halted her with a gesture. “The
words are for you alone,” he said. “From father to daughter.”
“Thank
you, uncle,” she said.
Nagori
opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then stopped, his eyes fixed
on something ahead. Domotai glanced at the Doji estate, which looked empty save
for a strange, wavering glow coming through the window of a private room on the
second floor. “Is it a fire?” she asked breathlessly.
Nagori
did not respond, but immediately rushed toward the estate, through the door and
toward the stairs. Domotai followed closely behind, her muscles aching from the
exertion of the past few days. Nagori pulled ahead of her and reached the door
even as she emerged from the stairwell. She saw him throw open to door to the
chamber in question, then recoil from the brilliant light emanating from
within.
Domotai
was at his side in an instant, shielding her eyes from the sheer glare. Through
her squinted eyes, she thought she could make out the form of a bizarre
creature. It was half man, with a long, serpentine lower torso as long and wide
as a roaring river. Its muscular upper body swirled with countless mystic
tattoos, and its eyes shone a brilliant, depthless silver. Even as she saw it,
her mind recognized that such a creature could not fit into a room of such
proportions. She felt an almost irresistible urge to fall on her knees.
All
at once, the light was gone. She and Nagori stood in the darkened corridor,
panting as if from some great exertion. Kneeling in the center of the room was
a single samurai, his eyes bearing a fading hint of the glow that had filled
the chamber only seconds before. “Reju!” Nagori shouted. “Reju! What happened?”
“The
Celestial Wanderer,” Reju said in a gravelly voice. “Lord Hoshi returned to
warn me.”
“Warn
you?” Domotai asked. “Of what?”
“Three
strangers conspire against their lord,” he replied. “The Empire teeters upon
the war they wage… a war without swords. It is within their power to save the
Empire or doom it.”
“A
prophecy?” Nagori insisted.
Reju ignored Nagori, but looked up at Domotai. His golden eyes shone in the darkened room. He would say no more.