#quick draw okatsu

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Moe Violence: or How I Struck the Jidaigeki Goldmine

I lost a close friend recently. A really close one and it was the kind of sudden bolt from the blue that’s really just fate waking up and deciding to kick you in the teeth. He liked old Western movies and was enough of a film buff to know how much back-and-forth there was with samurai cinema. So we had a lot of fun talking about movies. Made me want to finally get through a stack of films I’ve dug up on archive.org. Liking what I like, I think this binge has helped get a lot of clarity on where we started with looking at Lady Snowblood & Red Swallow Oyuki. (Oh...by the way. I plum forgot Snowblood’s auntie/confidant type figure was named Okiku. Always has a basket of yellow mums outside her door)

Started with checking out a trio of films the absolutely wonderful Junko Miyazono did after Red Swallow. Series is called Tales of the Poison Seductress; Hannya Ohyaku, Quick-Draw Okatsu, & Okatsu the Fugitive. They’re all standalone, caution though they’re very violent. SA is a factor too but from what I’ve seen most of the scenes may drag but try to keep it not too graphic. I say that as someone pretty turned off but “losing her virtue” is a threat hanging around frequently in these and there’s a torture element. This is 60s/70s Japanese Grindhouse cinema, the type of thing that inspired gory directors like Quentin Tarantino. It ain’t for everyone and that’s why I wanna gush about it here. What I’m getting more and more though is that pinning our beloved Okiku to one jidaigeki reference is a fool’s errand. My dears, she’s an ode to an entire subgenre!

Let’s not split hairs over the specific category of Toei films and slightly different ones with a female lead. The term I see used is “Pinky Violence.” Pinky coming from having female leads and being very sexually charged affairs. Toei needed to do something to compete with more Western movies making it over, so they opted for shock value and the way they went for it ended up giving us a pretty feminist genre. Not to say these were all jidaigeki which means “period drama.” There were a lot of modern ones I have yet to dive into heavily. Before Lady Snowblood Meiko Kaji gave us a really fun looking 6-part series called Stray Cat Rock for a great example. Machine guns, motorcycles, and LSD. They look awesome and check this aesthetic! I’m in love.

That knowledge does make me think of Nami and the early design with a missing arm. Jojo’s Stone Ocean as well while we’re at it. There’s also a fair number of Yakuza movies that fall sorta in between like the Red Peony Gambler (Hibotan Bakuto) series. It’s all a little nebulous if you want to get into the weeds. There’s a few different styles from a few different studios but make no mistake. These were popular movies in Japan. Big studios like Toei were churning them out as B movies to maintain relevance. Compete with television and Hollywood’s resources.  

Know what isn’t nebulous? Yeah...the hallmarks of the genre are big things we see out of Okiku’s role in Wano. The otherwise perfect lady with some little hook that means she isn’t “marriage material.” The whole arc of showing she can kick as much ass as any man but always reminding you of the lady playing the part. A big, big shared element is this core theme of taking down corrupt officials who abuse their power. Urashima the Yokozuna is exactly the type of guy who’d end up a villain in these. Sticking up for humble villagers, looking out for other women and children. Being the collateral damage of “great” men’s ambitions is what we tend to see over traditional fare like say, reinstalling a dynasty. I love the running theme of these being so much more local in scope. And Kiku gets that modern twist of her being trans for the “excuse.” I adore that in contrast to anime trends of needing to make an excuse for the deviance. My dead sister was the favorite, I went silly due to trauma, etc. This trope and trend of subversion is a big reason I love the mistaken bride idea. 

The more of these I see, and I’m friggin hooked these days, the more I see little bits and bobs that feel like they may have shaped our beautiful flower of Wano. And others! She’s a little more than a simple homage though. We do see the violence part pretty well for One Piece. Kiku gets the shit beaten out of her on Onigashima and it is gory by this manga’s standards. That’s where the modernization seems to be though. We tone down the sexuality for cute. Which isn’t that off base, the archetype in historical settings typically does have that innocent and sweet side. One Piece just isn’t the type of series you’re going to actually see things like making good on Tama’s intro of fleeing from being sold to the red light district. Even if it didn’t make it in the proper story, Kiku & Izo’s origin does flirt with that kind of content more than the series usually would. Hell, we do get Holdem torturing Tama and the series just fades to black on a similar spot for Tsuru. 

Wano made this genre feel familiar already. Snowblood loves it some anachronic storytelling, Red Peony sets up and ends films with a non-diagetic theatrical framing. Ohyaku uses a big simpleton to bust out of a prison camp. Speaking of, can I please get someone whipping a hair stick like a dart? That’s my favorite little signature from the Red Peony. Oryu in those is a fun protagonist played by Junko Fuji. That’s one of the more accessible series, less graphic than One Piece so far, and she plays with gender as a theme more. Proclaims to be a man but we always see deep down she’s still a lady that wishes she could have married the honest merchant’s son. Oh...and almost all of these ladies are total daddy’s girls like Kiku acts towards Kin. That whole series gets its own because there’s eight of them and they’re soooo good. 

Eiichiro Oda is a great writer and worldbuilder...but he’s actually pretty derivative. One Piece doesn’t break ground as much as refine the dominant genre when it started, even Rurouni Kenshin was more subversive for shonen. The more I see of these though, the more I see Oda just being this big kid who thought these old movies were so cool and couldn’t wait to rip into his samurai gang. Of course one of em if gonna be a little Junko Miyazono/Meiko Kaji being a fierce strong-willed lady of war. These movies are classic cool!

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter Four: Minor Skirmishes - Okatsu discovers why Mitsunari needs a bodyguard, and another plate of stewed eel meets its doom.

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Generally, a skirmish can be a minor battle, or even short fight, as part of a larger military campaign, a smaller force drawing out a larger to test resilience, or to gather information about the size of the opposing army. Occasionally, it is itself the cause of the larger campaign.

Or, sometimes, it’s simply a matter of a misunderstanding, an incident in which two groups are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Personal comments:

Being engaged, even if it is only a pretense, takes more effort than battle. At least in battle, one only has to wear armor, define and implement a strategy, and pay attention to the commander.

Being engaged? Requires one to converse.

While Lady Okatsu seems pleasant enough, I am not convinced she is necessary. I’m not ungrateful - I appreciate the effort that Mitsuhide has made on my behalf to acquire her expertise. However, I have never had any difficulty focusing on reading in the past and believe that on my own, I can discourage interruptions of any sort. Events have already been set into motion now, and it’s too late to switch courses. My engagement has been announced – for it to be unannounced within a day of the announcement would simply cause too much confusion.

At least Lady Okatsu is competent… and… There is something about her which is familiar - I believe we have met before. Though I know little about women, I am at least aware that saying, “I think we have met before, but I cannot quite remember you,” would not be received positively.

Getting attacked by a mysterious intruder was not on my Sengoku bingo card.

I brought my dagger up, and my attacker’s sword met it with a ‘clank.’ “Wait – I mean you no harm.”

“Harmless people don’t sneak into rooms through the ceiling.” I held my dagger steady in front of me. It wasn’t the best defense against a sword, but if someone was coming after me, I was going to make sure to do some damage of my own.

“My apologies for disturbing you. I seem to have landed in the wrong room.” My maybe-not-an-attacker edged backward. “Perhaps you could pretend you had a bad dream?”

Mai had given me her room for the duration of my stay here since she had moved into Nobunaga’s. Was my attacker after Mai?

Except… now that my heart wasn’t thundering in my ears, it occurred to me that my attacker’s voice was familiar. “Sasuke?”

“Yes. Do I know you?” Like me, he kept his weapon ready, but his posture relaxed somewhat.

I found the lantern and lit it, then belatedly remembered to double check that my kimono was fastened shut.

My moderately awesome ninja friend stood in the middle of the room, squinting at me. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and pulled down his mask. “Katsu? Fascinating. This is your most effective disguise to date.” He blinked a few times, darting a quick glance at my cleavage, then back to my face. “Wait. ‘Katsu’ was the disguise, wasn’t it? This is who you really are.”

“More or less.” I combed my fingers through my hair and stuck it behind my ears. “Katsuko… although I suppose I should get used to being called Okatsu.”

He laughed. “I’m obviously not a moderately awesome ninja if I never detected you were a woman.”

As far as I was aware, Mitsuhide and Mai were the only two people who instantly realized I’m female, so he was in good company. “What did you want with Mai?” I hoped the two of them weren’t conducting an affair under Nobunaga’s nose. At the very least, he’d consider that a serious insult to his honor.

“I need to return to our home, er, village for a long visit, and came to say goodbye.” Sasuke wandered to the writing desk, where I had left out my brush and paper.

“Oh… is Mai the girl you were talking about earlier this summer?” Even then Sasuke had seemed rather attached to her, no matter his claim of platonic friendship.

Sasuke nodded. Then he indicated the paper and brush on the desk. “If I write her a note, can you get it to her?” He paused, then added, “Why are you here?”

“Here in Mai’s room? Or here in Azuchi castle?” I plopped back down on the futon and rummaged through my pack until I found – yes, still had some dried pears left. I offered some to Sasuke, as it had been our tradition when we encountered each other on the road. Also, I was still hungry, as Mitsuhide’s roofieing of Masamune had effectively ruined dinner.

“Both.” Sasuke accepted the offer of snacks.

“I’m in Mai’s room because she is in Nobunaga’s. I’m in Azuchi because… well… it’s complicated.” I gave him as brief of an explanation as possible. “So, while we are at Genba castle for a month or so, I get to portray an Oda Princess.”

“You lead a very interesting life, Kats… er, Okatsu.” He folded up the message then turned to me and with a bizarre change of topic asked, “What’s your opinion of the Azuchi warlords? Have you met Ieyasu? Has any of this…” he gestured to my things now spread out on the futon, “touched Ieyasu?”

“We met. I have not touched him. He has not touched me. And as for the first question, if you are asking for reasons of spying, I’m not going to tell you.” I might be only a ‘temp,’ but temporary loyalty is still loyalty. “Remember, I do know who you work for.” Kenshin and Nobunaga might be in a truce, but I was not confident that it would last.

“I’m asking out of pure academic interest. I’m rather an admirer …” He paused, then seemed to reconsider his words. “Since I am going to be gone for a while, I want to make sure my friend is safe.”

Sounded like a lie. Or maybe a truth wrapped inside a lie. But I didn’t think he meant any harm to Nobunaga or the rest of the people in Azuchi. “As long as she is with Nobunaga, she’s perfectly safe from his vassals and allies.” Although as Nobunaga’s woman, she’d be a target for enemies. I didn’t need to point that out to Sasuke. “As much as I’m able, I’ll keep an eye on her as well.”

Hm, Sasuke hadn’t mentioned where his and Mai’s village was, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask him to look for my brother. I got out the drawing that Francisco had made for me. “I know I’ve asked you before, but please, especially if you are on a coast, if you see Toshiie, tell him how to find me.”

Sasuke refamiliarized himself with the drawing of my brother. “I will. Thank you for watching over Mai… and take care of yourself as well.” He bowed, then scampered back into the ceiling.

“You too, Sasuke. Beware of carnivorous trees.” I listened as his soft footsteps faded away into the night.

I would miss him. Not that I had been able to predict when we would run into each other; but knowing Sasuke was no longer roaming the byways of Japan made me feel even more alone than ever.

“Sorry that I got food all over it – at least… it’s not blood?” I handed Mai the kimono she had loaned me. She had stopped by “my” room with more clothing for me. “I’ll be more careful with this one.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was inevitable.” She held up a light blue kimono with a darker blue pattern, and a mint green one with silver embroidery. “I think these will do, until I can complete the custom ones. Do you like them?”

I nodded. They weren’t really my style, but at least they weren’t pink, and she didn’t have to keep giving me her own clothes. “They’re very pretty. But even if I didn’t like them, I would wear whatever they want me to.”

“On that note, Mitsuhide reminded me that he wants you in pinks.” I made a face at that, and she laughed. “There are many shades of pink, and you’d look good in most of them.”

I wondered if there was any specific reason that I was required to dress in pink other than the fact that Mitsuhide knew I didn’t like it. “Did he say why? Is it an official shade for Oda Princesses to wear?”

“I don’t know.” She handed me the blue kimono and busied herself with displaying the mint one on the kimono rack. “Mitsuhide does and says a lot of things I don’t understand. But deep down, he’s a good person. Also. He can read minds, so watch out.”

Sure.

Odds were that, like Aki, Mitsuhide was simply very observant. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get any helpful data out of Mai. “So be it. Pink. Maybe it’s Mitsunari’s favorite shade?” Though if that were the case, why had he asked me if I liked blue?

She looked over from where she was smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “Mitsunari wouldn’t notice what color you’re wearing unless he was required to memorize uniforms for battle.” Then she clapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry. He’s your fiancée. I didn’t mean that way it sounded. He’s lovely, a perfect angel… but a little…”

“Absentminded. I’ve noticed. And, reminder, fake fiancé.” I shrugged into the kimono she’d handed me. It was so soft! I mostly lived in cheaper fabrics, either in the ugly brown maid kimono Fume made me wear, or the sturdier dark green kimono and hakama I wore as Katsu. Color aside, I could get used to this Princess thing.

Mai came over and made some minute adjustments to the fit, humming happily as she did so.

Damn! I was being a bit absentminded myself. Almost forgot. “Mai, I had a visitation from a ninja in the middle of the night.” I grabbed the message off the writing desk and gave it to her.

“Oh no!” Mai put her hand to her chest. “Did he scare you? I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to warn you about him. He’s a friend, and harmless. Alright. No. He’s not harmless, obviously, but he-”

“Mai! It’s ok. I was startled, that’s all.” And sure, startled enough to come at him with a knife, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been friends with Sasuke for a couple of years. I’m used to his quirks.” Though popping through ceilings like Spiderman was a previously unknown facet of his personality.

She relaxed. “I forgot he’s been here that long.”

Weird response.

Quickly, she skimmed the letter. “He wants a chance to say goodbye in person. Kats- er, Okatsu, do you want to go into town with me? I can show you around, then we can meet up with Sasuke at this bookseller he frequents.”

Ha! I bet I know which bookseller that is. Though I was already familiar with Azuchi, thanks to my ‘observational activities’ earlier this summer, it wouldn’t be the worst idea. “I’d like that, but of course, I need to report in with Mitsuhide first. He might have other plans for me.”

“We can take Mitsunari with us. That way, you can be seen together. And if I mention bookseller, he’ll be happy to go along with it.”

That was actually a pretty good idea...

We tracked down Mitsuhide at Hideyoshi’s manor, where, as it happened, they also thought Mai’s idea was a good one. Mitsuhide gave her an approving nod. “We might make a strategist out of you yet, Mouse.”

“You on the other hand.” Hideyoshi looked me over with a frown. “What were you thinking, sticking a sword into the obi? You’re a princess, not a warrior. Azuchi is safe enough within the confines of the town.”

“I’m used to being armed.” I handed over my sword. It had only been a diversion, as I had my daggers strapped to my legs and a throwing knife hidden under my sleeve.

Mitsuhide studied me. “That… was too easy.” He put out his hand.

I unstrapped one of the daggers and handed that over as well. I could work with one dagger, the throwing knife, and the joy of knowing I had won.

“You can keep the other weapons,” Mitsuhide added, “as long as they stay hidden.”

If Mitsuhide ever ends up in the future, he can rent himself out as a metal detector.

It was easy enough to find Mitsunari, as he was holed up in his quarters, reading. It was slightly more difficult to get his attention, but once Mai executed the ‘bookstore’ command sequence, he was willing enough to set aside his book and join us.

I wasn’t sure whether Hideyoshi had given him an additional lecture, or if Mai was a mitigating presence, or, if Mitsunari was getting used to me – whatever the reason, he was more present and willing to discuss landmarks of interest.

At one point, I paused in front of a metalsmith’s shop – I could use some more arrowheads – both the blunted ones for target practice and the sharper ones for hunting and defense. The sound of the smith at work carried into the street. “Is this where Nobunaga gets his ammunition?”

“Some of it.” Mitsunari led us inside the smith’s shop to examine the wares. “Nobunaga has a private swordsmith he uses for his sword collection, and we have metalsmiths in the castle for ourselves and Nobunaga’s personal guards. As you might imagine, when there is active fighting, we need more than what we make. And of course, our guns come from the Kunitomo village gunsmiths.”

I nodded. Most of the guns made in Japan were made in the Kunitomo village, though I knew there was still a big market for European-made muskets.

The weapons inside the shop were of higher quality than what Aki could acquire. I picked up a fully assembled arrow and examined it. It was slightly longer than what I used, and the feathers were different as well.

“Sea eagle,” the smith replied when I asked.

That made sense. Azuchi was closer to the coast than Akihira’s household.

Mai mimed drawing a bow. “Are you any good at archery?” I already knew enough about Mai to know that she had no interest in weapons of war, but it was nice of her to ask, and she was doing a good job pretending not to be bored.

Was ‘Okatsu’ good at archery? Many women in this era were, as they needed to be able to defend their homes while their husbands were at war. And since legendary female archers such as Tomoe Gozen were part of literature, I figured it would be acceptable for “Okatsu” to have this skill. “As long as I practice, yes.”

She twirled an arrow around her fingers like it was a baton, and I could see the smith wince in the background. “Ieyasu’s teaching me.”

“Willingly?” The question came out before I had a chance to edit my words. Eep. I’m usually better tha that, “Er, I mean, how did that come about?”

Mai simply laughed. “It was after a strong suggestion from Hideyoshi. Anyway, you should join us in the mornings if you want to keep your skills up.”

I nodded. I would do that. Belatedly recalling that I was supposed to be developing a rapport with Mitsunari, I asked him if he too practiced.

His response was to proclaim proudly, “Ieyasu is the best archer in Azuchi.”

That… was not the question I had asked, so I tried again. “Do you ever practice with him?”

“Oh. Yes. Sometimes. Ieyasu says he prefers the solitude of archery, but he kindly allows me to join him.” There was that beatific smile again. Maybe his first love was books, but it seemed like his friends could inspire that smile as well.

Deciding that it would be a good test of my skills to practice with the longer arrows, I purchased some, as well as some blunted arrowheads. Mitsunari bought a couple too, saying that he would have Ieyasu practice with them as a way of testing the vendor. Happy with our purchases, we continued toward the booksellers.

“Do you expect to need additional vendors?” It was mostly a small talk gambit. Nobunaga was not currently at war with anyone, but it would be good to know if that was on the verge of changing.

“No immediate expectation, although as Lord Nobunaga continues to push the country toward unification under his banner, there will naturally be more resistance.” Mitsunari turned to look at me, and immediately tripped over air, and stumbled a few steps before regaining his balance. Unfazed, he continued speaking. “In any case, if we waited until there was a need, it would be too late.”

“Good point. Also, always a good idea to create goodwill with your local merchants.” I knew that both local and international trade was important to Nobunaga, and it seemed he was doing as much as he could for the merchant class.

Mai appeared to be a favorite with the merchants as well and pointed out a large stall belonging to a fabric deal. The merchant smiled and waved at her. “We’ll stop in in a bit,” she called to him. She turned to me. “I want to pick out some fabrics for your wedding.”

Alright, enough about that, even from Mai. This was an over the top, just to fool one seventeen year old girl. “Have you met the Kanamori princess? Does Mitsunari really pose that much of a threat to her engagement?” I couldn’t imagine any woman of this time being that willing to act counter to her family’s wishes.

“I don’t know her personally, but as for your other question… well, it’s easier if I show you.” Suddenly she raised her voice. “Misunari! Thank you for coming shopping with us!”

Even before she had finished speaking, women popped up all over the outdoor market, looking a bit like prairie dogs scenting food. Or well… something like that.

“Misunari?”

“Mitsunari’s here?”

“Where? Where is that angel?”

In moments, Mitsunari was surrounded, while Mai and I were pushed back by the tide.

I see.

Or, well, currently I could not see, but I understood.

When my ears adjusted to the pandemonium, I heard several of them invite him to tea, and a fight almost broke out. “Ok. Needs a bodyguard. Got it.”

“Okatsu. He probably needs one right this moment.” At least two of the women had their grips on his arms and Mitsunari looked from one woman to the next, trying to follow six conversations at once. “He might accidentally promise himself to a second, third and fourth wife.”

I gritted my teeth and waded in. Yeesh. I’d been to K-pop concerts that had less of a scrum. “There you are, darling.” I tucked my arm in his, carefully dislodging one of the women in the process.

“Ladies.” Mai scooted in behind me. “This is Princess Okatsu. Mitsunari’s fiancée.”

If glares were arrows, I would have had more holes in me than a pincushion.

Now I was the one who needed a bodyguard.

By the time we had made our escape to the booksellers, Sasuke was already inside, leafing through a book that appeared to be a translation of Greek mathematics. Takauji (the latest of Aki’s messengers to be stuck wearing the dreaded wig and beard bookseller disguise), called out an automatic welcome when we entered. He seemed dismayed to see Mitsunari, then surprised that I was with him. But he didn’t break character, at least.

Once Mitsunari was camped out with a book and Mai was chatting with Sasuke, I made my way over to Takauji. “Do you have any poetry?” In truth, I have no strong feelings about poetry, but I knew the few volumes Aki had were kept on the other side of the shop, so Takauji and I could talk undisturbed.

“Kaya, what’s going on? Did Aki send you to check in with me?” He handed me a slim scroll.

“Not exactly. One of Aki’s most frequent contacts asked us for help with a specific task. I’m based in the castle for a couple of weeks.” I unrolled the scroll – poetry illustrated with pen and ink sketches – and pretended it was fascinating. “He didn’t have any message to you.”

“I haven’t heard from him in a while.” Taka handed me a book to leaf through. “I was really hoping you were my replacement. I’m getting a skin rash from the damn beard.”

I shrugged because what could I say? Every one of Aki’s couriers knew the beard itched. “I told you to bring rash cream. Anyway. You know Aki. He’ll be in touch when he wants something. Meanwhile, since you’ve been here all summer, is there anything going on that I need to know?”

He scratched around to corner of the beard. Oh yeah, I could see the top of the rash. Poor guy. “Nothing big since the conflict with Uesugi earlier this summer. There’s been a gang of sailors causing trouble for the smaller shopkeepers around here. They don’t really bother with me, but I know the restaurant owners are upset.”

Sailors? I perked up a bit at that. Of course, my brother would not likely be in a gang that caused trouble, but if a new ship had docked in Osaka, then it might be worth seeing if I could finagle a trip down there to check things out.

“Really the most trouble I’ve had these days, comes from him.” With a jerk of his head, Taka indicated where Mitsunari had made himself comfortable with a book. “He always makes a mess.”

Sure enough, Mitsunari was leaning against a table, and the stack of books above was swaying dangerously. “Watch it,” I said to Takauji, mostly to clock his reaction. “That’s my fiancé you’re talking about.”

Then I zipped over to Mitsunari to rescue him before he concussed himself.

As I restacked the books in such a way that they would be less likely to fall over, Mitsunari finished scanning the book he had in his hand. He gave me an odd look, as if he had forgotten who I was. Hm. I hadn’t thought he was that absentminded.

Mai completed her goodbye to Sasuke, who had given me another farewell wave before vanishing into the throng of people on the streets. Then, donning her authority as Azuchi chatelaine, she insisted Mitsunari pay for the book in his hands, and successfully herded us out of the booksellers and right into a fabric dealer.

It felt weird to be picking out kimono fabric for a wedding that wasn’t going to happen, although I’d likely get a lot of use out of the rest of the wardrobe once we got to Genba.

Mai held a swatch of something pink up to my face. “I don’t know why you have such a problem with this color. It will look good on you.”

Well, I didn’t know why some people were so fond of pink in the first place. My mother had always wanted me dressed in pi… well. Some people liked pink. I was not one of the people. But Mai was the expert, and I hadn’t the heart to tell her that overall, I didn’t think clothing was all that interesting to begin with, especially when it was clearly her passion. So, I faked enthusiasm for the fabrics she picked out – and really, aside from the dreaded pink, I liked everything else she bought, as she stuck to the blue and aqua shades I preferred. She even bought a coordinating piece of fabric in a deeper shade of teal for Mitsunari, so that we would have matching outfits for our first night in Genba.

Mai… it’s not prom.

After that, she declared herself hungry – actually, Mai has quite the bossy streak - so we headed for a restaurant nearby that she said was good.

For the record, I maintain that what happened next wasn’t completely my fault.

After we ordered our food, my attention was caught by a group of sailors on the other side of the restaurant. Hard not to notice them – they were loud. Would these men, possibly, hopefully have an idea where Toshiie might be? Couldn’t hurt to ask. Before Mai and Mitsunari could stop me, I grabbed the portrait and scooted over to the table with the rowdy sailors.

Normally, such discussions followed the same pattern. I would introduce myself to the sailors, establish a rapport, show them the drawing of Toshiie, they would shake their head, I would thank them, and then be on my way.

That’s what normally happened… when I was dressed as Katsu.

But dressed as “Okatsu,” I attracted the wrong sort of attention. “Pardon me. Have any of you seen this man?” I held the drawing out to the table at large.

Instead of taking any time to look at the drawing, one of the sailors grabbed my arm. “If ya want a man, wench, there’s a whole table of ‘em right here.” He pulled me onto his lap.

Hell to the no on that, dude… I jammed my dagger into his forearm.

“Fucking bitch!” He leaped to his feet and had his sword out instantly.

Damn Hideyoshi for confiscating my own sword.

I deflected the initial cut with my dagger, but he immediately tried to catch me with the backswing. When I leaped backward to avoid getting hit, Mai’s too-long skirt tripped me up and I stumbled into another of the sailors, thwacking him across the arm with my dagger.

In an instant, the entire table of sailors had their swords out.

The first sailor came at me again, but at the last moment, another party came to my rescue, deflecting the strike with a gleaming katana - Mitsunari had leaped in to protect me. Yikes, please don’t get stabbed, Mitsunari! He slung me out of the way, back toward Mai, and I lost track of him almost immediately when the entire restaurant erupted into fighting.

A dagger wasn’t going to be the most useful weapon, but I couldn’t leave Mitsunari unprotected. Arms and legs flying, I jumped back into the fray, and immediately got jabbed in the eye by someone’s elbow. I heard a rip, then realized, I had again ruined another one of Mai’s kimonos. Shit. She was going to hate me.

I glanced back toward her, just in time to see her clonk a sailor over the head with a tea kettle.

A sword clattered on the floor and landed at my feet – Mitsunari had disarmed his first opponent.

Well, I wasn’t going to look a gift sword in the mouth. I grabbed it off the floor and was back in the middle of the melee.

The sailors weren’t unskilled, and their weapons were of surprisingly good quality, but some of them were pretty drunk. Of course, with the entire restaurant now involved in what had become a sword and food fight, it was becoming difficult to tell the enemies from the friends.

And so, after I kicked a sailor in the stomach, when I sensed a presence right behind me, I grabbed a plate of food off the table and flung it…

…at Hideyoshi.

Well, it isn’t really a good fight until someone gets whacked in the face with a dish of stewed eel.

@lorei-writes @bestbryn @katriniac @lyds323 @briars7

[jailhouse41]

Poster for Quick-Draw Okatsu (Yoen Dokufu Den: Hitokiri Okatsu, 妖艶毒婦伝 人斬りお勝), 1969, directed by Nobuo Nakagawa (中川信夫) and starring Junko Miyazono (宮園純子).

[rawbiredbest]

@hotmilky / @bangage puts up with my niohposts and helps me make dumb gifsets so here, my friend, this is what you get for enabling me

- - -

William wakes up naked as the day he was born, cold, and in the presence of a drunken god.

“You terrible fool.”

Sober god. Which is not a great improvement.

William sits up, despite the moaning protests his shoulders make. His bed is a piece of burlap, his chambers are a circle of bushes, and his hearth is a meager pile of brush. “Okatsu--”

“Is fine,” Lautrec says. Toulouse sits a few feet away. Sparks glint as he runs a whetstone over his twin blades. Stolen, no doubt. “Scampered away like a little bunny. You, however, drowned. Fool.”

That would explain the emptiness Adams feels, his head as hollow as a chestnut shell. The muzzle that would greet his palm is at the bottom of Edo Bay. He pinches his brow, digs the heel of his hand into his eyes. This waterlogged, newborn feeling is a sorrow he hoped he would never experience again. William looks for a handhold in the flood.

He sees the salamander draped across Lautrec’s shoulders. It’s blue as sapphires and coated with spots of gold from its spade-shaped head to its broad tail. A whirlpool churns in its throat, and William tumbles into it helplessly.

He sees a farmstead thousands of miles away. A man, a boy. The boy holds a sword.

Lautrec speaks to him.

My fate has never been my own. I was ever guided by another’s hand.

The boy brings the sword down through a straw dummy. It splits in half, spraying filaments. The man looks on, unimpressed.

Father was a knight, as was his father before him. I was to murder and pillage for the good of France, for powers in the clouds.

No longer a boy, a young man kneels before a bishop. He tenderly kisses the rings on his hand. One jewel, a ruby, is the same color as the streets of Paris, August 23, 1572. Hundreds are dead, more are being chased from their homes and slaughtered. Fire rages on rooftops. The young man splashes through pools of blood, away from the killing.

Nothing good came of that night. The plot was foiled. The king made a verdict. And Hell came to Earth.

He gallops away on horseback from the burning city. A woman clings behind him. They find shelter in a small cottage in the woods. For a few days they stay. Supplies grow short, and the young man sneaks back into Paris.

It was not to be this way. There was never supposed to be war. But tension was high, resources were few, and all we could do was dance in our limp strings.

He is scrounging for some meager scraps of food when he is found. A mob of victims, relatives of the massacred. Their bodies gleam with the unmistakable shine of pure, powerful amrita. The young man draws his blades, but they are many. He is overwhelmed, stabbed, pinned to the ground as boots come down on his sides. Through the blows, he longs for his wife. Wishes he could see her face one more time.

Blood was shed for God. But it was a goddess that answered my prayers.

The explosion takes out the entire city block. The young man lies in the remaining crater. A glowing woman with a serpent’s tail helps him stagger to his feet.

I should have known it was no blessing. My miracle was seen by the Church as witchcraft. I would be hunted like a dog. I could not involve Ana in that. Not when it happened, and not when my goddess burned with jealousy, demanding tribute in her name. So I fled, alone, stripped of my humanity. Hollow.

He takes work where he can find it. Assassinations and mercenary ploys quickly suck away his youth. He wanders across France, Germany, and Belgium before crossing into England. It is there he embarks on a ship called the Hoop. The expedition departs in June, 1598.

One of his fellow sailors has golden hair, a piercing gaze, and a feather close to his heart.

The salamander lets William go. Adams catches his breath, touches the new spirit-shape in his mind.

Its name is Osanshouo, the long-lived.

Lautrec slides the end of a sword beneath William’s chin, tips it up. Despite the samurai’s disheveled appearance -- his beard is unkempt, his cheeks are streaked with dirt, his hair is long and shot with gray -- there is fresh life in his eyes. “Why,” Toulouse asks, “does fate smile upon you, yet treat me like manure? You too have loved and lost, and what have you found? Silver, steel, and the company of a man who would see himself emperor. I survived the storm only to become neck-deep in demons.”

Despite the blade’s position, William scowls. “You’re mad if you believe I had a say in your situation. Perhaps we’re both passengers on this voyage, but at least I do something about it!”

Lautrec nicks Adams as he puts the blade away. Wincing, William clamps his knuckles over the wound as it seeps into his hair.

“I have no choice but to do so myself,” Toulouse says. Petting Osanshouo under the chin, he continues, “The spikes that plague the castle required fuel, and none burn brighter than my Fina. The man you pursue -- Kelley -- he--” He hesitates, anger choking him. “He has her. So yet again our paths converge, Adams. It will not be a pleasure working with you.”

Glaring, William stands, holding the burlap over himself. “You cannot even try to work with someone, can you?”

“I can.” Lautrec gets to his feet. “On two conditions. One--” From a belt at his waist he plucks a brown bottle.

William stares at it. Of all the things to recover from the bay -- his weapons, his tools, Naomasa’s armor (Ii’s wrath is a problem he doesn’t want to think about) -- Toulouse saved his sake.

The Frenchman uncorks it, takes a quick sip. “This is mine. And two--”

The palm on Adams’s behind makes him jump. Burlap hits the ground.

Lautrec cracks a deadly smirk. “So is your ass.”