[] Rest and recover from the run, the fight and the exertion of wielding your sword. You will have the Office's clerks scour entrance records from the city using what those in the Honeyed House have gleaned of her circumstances, and hunt her tomorrow.
You sheathe the chokuto while holding back a sigh. "We have achieved much tonight. We will not push it further." Amaya and Urakama accept this without protest.
An errand boy is sent to the Office, and you reassure a brothel full of courtesans and terrified patrons as you wait for reinforcements. In good time, a squad of well-armed guards arrives to guard the Honeyed House, and you brief them on the situation. You do not expect another attack tonight, but it is better to be safe than sorry.
In your dreams, you are at an establishment much like the Honeyed House.
"Sake, sir?" A human-like being with the head of a monstrous centipede approaches you, and pours as gracefully as any trained geisha.
You take the sake, which turns into a stormcloud and flies away as you try to drink it.
"I'm terribly sorry," the centipede said. "Perhaps I can sing you a song instead?"
Before the centipede can do more, you spot a glimpse through the crowd. It is a face you have not seen in the waking world in a long time.
It is Enya. He is wearing a glimpse of a Western costume, hair cut short, but it is unmistakably him. So many questions rise in your mind! Where has he been? What has he been doing? Where did he go to? How did he return?
You rise and chase him in a panic, but he disappears in a sea of people bearing the face that your mind has conjured as Nishio Sani's. One by one, you see them disappear in sprays of blood and organs as some unseen force stalks them. In the end, you see Enya again, and he disappears into blood just as you reach out to touch the sleeve of his coat.
You wake, and take the trip to the Office. There is no storm today, only drizzle, but it is enough to cast a sour note over the city.
It never sets easily, when your cases are matters of mostly human misery. A monster can be fought, slain or imprisoned. Forgotten about. Dismissed after being dealt with, unless the events are truly horrible.
But this witch… you were raised on stories of bloody vengeance for crimes against those tied to the avenger by blood or fealty. It is hard not to feel sympathy This matter has all the makings of a fine kabuki or bunraku play. Your thoughts drift along that path for a short time. Perhaps it would be pleasant to be portrayed by some tall, dashing actor like Omura Nikki - your short stature and shaggy-haired appearance would not be ideal. Then again, they might simply excise your role from the story altogether. It would be cleaner that way, focused on the blood and horror. No doubt the witch would be devoured by her familiar in the end, or make some exit from the coil of life after revenging herself on the final victim.
Upon arriving in the Office compound, you see someone has set up an archery target near the entryway. To your mild surprise, you see Amaya, holding a bow as if she was born to it, a wristguard on her hand. With an expression of intense concentration, she lifts an arrow to her face and looses it at the target.
A perfect bullseye.
You watch for a few more moments. Amaya's movements are fluid, practiced. Not every shot is perfect, but enough are that you are impressed. She seems so intent that she either isn't aware or doesn't acknowledge your presence.
—
"Why do you practice archery, Fusaki? It's so old-fashioned! You should focus on shooting a gun if you want to be a soldier, or study battles so you can lead troops." Your sister's tone makes it clear he doesn't understand why you would want such a thing. She lounges on a cushion as he watches you practice with the bow, a bowl of candies by his side.
In truth, you don't have an easy answer. Philosophical questions are not your forte. "I like it," you say, an answer that fails to express the way the exercise, the honing of skill, soothes something in your spirit.
"Real samurai don't fight anymore anyways," Nori says. "The Great Peace has held for hundreds of years. You should practice your calligraphy, your tutor says it's atrocious."
Your arrow flies, landing more than an inch off target. You make a small noise of irritation, trying to tune out your brother's words. But a real samurai? What does that mean? Your ancestors were warriors who earned titles and money through the use of the sword, bow, naginata and gun. Now a samurai is someone who receives a salary from the shogun's government just for having the right last name and performing whatever roles their daimyo or the shogunate seen fit. A salary that stretched a little less every year, though few discussed that.
The Kinjo were lucky; not possessed of any great military strength, nor deemed to be a political risk, they had been allowed to keep their holdings and extract rents, as opposed to having been relocated to a castle town like most samurai families when the Tokugawa won the Shogunate. With a few smart investments in the trade through the Strait, they had enough income that their fifteen-year old son, the youngest of three children, could afford to indulge a love of swordplay, archery and horsemanship, pretending to be a warrior of old.
"Kinjo!" Enya's voice calls out, and your heart stops for a moment as you see him emerge from your father's quarters. You cannot help but stare as the light hits him, illuminating the guileless smile on his face. You wonder how you could have ever failed to know you loved him. You wonder how anyone could fail to love him.
"Father is well, I hope?" Nori said neutrally. Her eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you, but her expression is largely unreadable.
"Lord Kinjo is responding well to the new treatments," Enya said, bowing to your sister. "My father says he will recover soon."
"Wonderful," Nori says. "The new medicine was effective then."
"Yes," Enya said. There was something just a little off about his voice, some hesitation. If you didn't know Enya so well, if you didn't hang on his every word, you would never have noticed it.
"You will be compensated appropriately. I will see to it if Mother forgets." Again, there is something strange about Nori's words. Mother is a skilled administrator of the household's finances. She would hardly forget something so important as paying Father's doctor.
"Do you have time to stay a while today, Enya?" You ask hopefully
"Oh? Do you need a healer's ministrations, Fusaki?" Nori said. You shoot her a look that would have killed her if it were an arrow.
"Not today, I think, but I plan on going mushroom gathering tomorrow," he said. "I would be grateful for a samurai's protection."
"I will give the task my full attention." You imitate a deep bow, one would make to a daimyo, and Enya smiles back.
As he departs, Nori gives you a look, then sighs. "Well, I suppose there are worse people you could have chosen to take up with." You had long ago accepted that was the closest thing you would get to a blessing from her.
"He's wonderful," you say.
"He's much smarter than you. It's a pity he's not a samurai and not a girl, he'd make an excellent wife for you."
Enya is the only one who thinks you're smart. You know this. He sees something in you that you can't see in yourself. But that's not something you can share with your sister, she'd only spoil it.
You are glad to hear Father is improving. His health had been worsening for years, and nothing the doctors or priests could do helped more than a little. A real turnaround would lift everyone's spirits.
That strangeness, though… it did not leave your mind. Perhaps Enya had spent too long encouraging you in observing the world for his own good.
—
You watch as Amaya fires off a few more shots. She catches your eye and gives you a nod of acknowledgment, and you return it. Then you enter the Office proper and find your workplace. A few small mundane matters are taken care of quickly - expense reports for Amaya and Urakama, a few reports with nothing to do with the tenement murder case.
You glance around the small room. "You may come out now, Hitoshi."
A woman dressed in an elegant servant's robe appears from the shadow of a storage chest in one corner. You would swear that the shadow was neither large enough nor deep enough to conceal a person, but there she wa. "How did you know I was here?"
You were fairly certain Hitoshi had shinobi training, although no one in the Office would confirm it.
"I didn't see you," you say. "I deduced it. I know you and the other clerks would have been reviewing records all night, and your report would have been with the others. And I know you like to surprise me."
She smiles slightly and approaches you, dropping a folded piece of rice paper in your hands. "It's all there. Everyone from this Nishio's home province who arrived within the last three months."
"That could be anywhere from one to a dozen or more, depending. We have no reason to assume she would be using her real name." For that matter, 'real' was a matter of perspective. She would hardly be the first person to change her name on coming to Edo. "She could have been lying about her home province, too."
"Sure she could, but that would be a lot more difficult than changing her name. Accent, knowledge, direction, stamps on travel papers. More points of failure. I would suggest we start with these, and if they don't pan out, we can move down the priority list."
That makes as much sense as anything. Three names are at the top of the list.
Nishio Yumi. Age 18. Beautiful. Came with minimal luggage. Claimed to be making a religious pilgrimage.
Horiuchi Maeko. Age 32, with a pox-scarred face. Rode on a horse and had saddle-bags which were cursorily checked and contained clothing and personal items. Claimed to be visiting family and seeking a potential marriage partner.
Sunama Noriko, Age 24, of average appearance. Said to come to Edo seeking work as a servant.
"Of course, we cannot assume the family name is the same," you say. "Of these three, only Sunama would have a reason to stay in the city for long," you ponder.
"Not necessarily," Hitoshi said. "Depending on the reason for the pilgrimage, Nishio could have stayed for months, resolving whatever spiritual issue she was burdened with. And "family visits" to the capital can last for years. It's not an easy trip, and she might be interviewing any number of marriage partners."
"Wait a minute," you say, "could she have disguised herself magically? If so, age and even gender might not be enough…"
Flick!
You rub your head where Hitoshi just flicked it. "My apologies, Inspector Kinjo," she says, bowing. "But you were starting a spiral if I'm any judge. Yes, she might have disguised herself, yes, she might have falsified her identity. Perhaps she is not in the city at all, and has found a way to project her familiar across time and space. But also, perhaps none of this is true. A young woman, motivated by vengeance and focused on the dark arts, might not have falsified her identity to such a degree. That is a gamble you made, and we will have to see if it pans out. Besides, it is better to do something instead of nothing, unless you have a brilliant plan you have not seen fit to disclose to me…"
You shake your head. "We will start with Nishio then. The simplest solution is most often correct."
Amaya and Urakama accompany you to Asakusa Shrine. Amaya has a bow and quiver strapped to her back; Urakama's preparations, whatever they might be, are less obvious, but you notice her fingers often touch a leather pouch at her side.
Amaya is speaking about the temple as you approach. Apparently it is one of the oldest in Tokyo, and was founded in the memory of three men, two fishermen and a landlord, who encountered a mysterious statue that moved about on its own accord. Of course, over time the brothers themselves became revered, miracles associated with their ancestor spirits.
The drizzle means there are fewer guests at the shrine today, but the first courtyard is almost a marketplace, stalls selling charms of paper and painted wood, small dolls and statues, children's toys, and other building blocks of trade. Pilgrimages to seek blessings from the kami or the boddhisatvas were not unusual, and of course the farther away and grander a temple was, the stronger the rumors of its powers would be.
Amaya had explained that the shrine was administered by Shinto priests, but the three men revered here had been revered in part for their conversion to Buddhism, and the statue that started it all had been of Kannon, a boddisattva. Following the interplay between Shinto and Buddhism, the distinctions and similarities between kami and boddhisatvas, was far outside your area of expertise. In any case, you see both mortals and goddess represented in paintings and statues.
Eventually, a higher priest comes. You exchange bows. "You are here to see Nishio?" He asks, and you confirm.
"I hope she is not in any trouble. She is a lovely girl, if a bit lacking in wisdom. But then, that is what a pilgrimage is for, is it not?"
You are led through a series of prayer halls and ceremonial chambers where the monks perform their duties. In due course you are taken to a small chamber that might have any number of uses. Wall scrolls proclaim poetic messages regarding the relationship between humans and kami, and a small weathered wooden statue sits in a shrine.
Nishio is petite, doll-like in appearance, with sparkling eyes which widen at your approach. She bows deeply before meeting your gaze. "You must be the Inspector!"
"Yes. We're just here to ask you a few questions." She does not seem like a witch, but then again, is that not exactly how a murderous witch would wish to appear? You run through some basic questions about her family, her reasons for coming to Edo, how her life has been here in the temple, and more.
Nishio is from a priestly family - the third child, same as you. Her father is dead, her elder brother ineffectual in such matters. She is here in search of "spiritual guidance" in relation to a situation with a pair of young men who are seeking her hand, after her first betrothal fell through. She provides a great deal of information about the specifics of the situation.
"I've known Atsutake forever, he's always been so kind, and I've always thought he was handsome…"
"Hamuro is handsome too, and so wealthy!"
"Atsutake is just a bit… boring, though… he never wants to talk about anything deep. Hamuro sends me love poems."
It is somewhere between the discussion of their preferred hairstyles and astrological signs that Urakama thrusts a vial in front of her and says simply, "Spit."
She looks at you questioningly, and you nod. Urakama departs into a corner, and you learn all about the differences in prospects between a rice farmer and an adzuki bean farmer in several minutes before Urakama looks at you, points at the vial and shakes her head.
"Thank you, Nishio," you say, interrupting her. "That will be all."
"Oh, I hope I was helpful!" She blinks soulfully. "You seem very wise. Do you have any thoughts on my situation?"
You certainly don't know the two men well enough from her fragments to tell her which to marry. In theory, this should be the family patriarch's job, but from her descrition he is not up to the task. That said, a small bit of advice could be useful.
[] Love is something to be treasured. If you believe you truly love either of these men, you should follow your heart and choose them.
[] Filial piety is paramount, you should seek advantage for your family. (Kinjo is far from his family; whether that parting was amicable remains to be seen, but clearly other things drove him than family duty.)
[] Marriage is ultimately a practical arrangement for most. Decide what you want - wealth, comfort, pleasure, dreams, or something else entirely. Weigh the pros and cons, determine who could help you live your best future.
[] If you came here seeking wisdom, on some level you must have known you needed it. Take a year, live your own life in the city, grow to know yourself before making a decision. The suitors will either wait or they will not.
[] This is not your affair, simply wish her good luck. (This is boring. Let's not be boring).
[] Write-in.
