Ways of Justice by Kakita Koshin
"No wall stands forever. Only duty stands forever."--Kaiu Hosaru, A Perfect Cut
* * *
Ways of Justice
by Kakita Koshin/Brent Morgan
In the end, there were just the two of them: the criminal and the samurai. All else seemed distant, transitory, as if the garden, the painted statues, and even the bridge were merely backdrops, prepared for the culmination of this bloody game. Akodo Mirako's magistrates hung back around the edge of the garden path like enthralled observers, their hard breathing the only sign that they were alive.
Beyond that, there was only the ringing of wind chimes to break the silence, but Bayushi Omino noticed neither bells nor the onlookers now. He only noticed his breath, slow and even, and the breath of the criminal: this breath was more agitated, but still in control. The samurai held out his jitte before him, moving forward onto the bridge with the criminal. With each step, each small movement, his scarred face wrinkled in focused control.
It was the scars, people said, that defined Omino: he had made them himself, back when he was a soldier, as a way, as he put it, to atone for all the samurai he had helped to die. To Rokugan, that action had defined him: he had once risen on that reputation to the level of an Imperial Magistrate, and been called a hero by many men. Even today, on the day of his death, the Akodo had rushed to meet him in full armor: they meant to give him the death of a warrior, not as a failure, cut down by the executioner's sword.
Omino noticed this as he moved, and allowed a smile. Negauru's barely showed notice of the samurai's expression, but he retreated a half step towards the bridge's far edge, holding tightly to his straight-edged blade.
He was more hunched than Omino, and far older, but it was impossible to think the grizzled, stoic man could have been anything but samurai. In his youth, before his fall, the criminal had been a Seppun in service to Toturi: he had served the Emperor's interests in court and on the field of battle, and it was with this training that Negauru held his sword. Even the weathered, withered shadow of this man sent a drop of sweat sliding down Omino's cheek
He almost mourned that he had never met Seppun Negauru at his prime.
"However did it come to this?" Negauru asked his opponent, leveling his blade as Omino stepped forward again, barring the magistrate's advance or escape. His gaze, still that of a warrior, showed no fear for what was to come. He was merely...curious. "How does it end here, after all this time?"
"Fate?" Omino offered with a small smile, but the old man just chuckled and shook his head. The Scorpion nodded, then glanced back towards the assembled samurai, to where Akodo Mirako held her magistrates back with the command in a single raised hand.
"Sacrifices and diligence," was the answer he gave next.
Negauru smiled, thoughtless of fleeing. He met the eyes of the Scorpion, his only true adversary, and despite himself a fleeting smile wrinkled his face. "If we have the time, Omino," the criminal told the samurai, "I would like to hear the tale."
*
Seven Months Ago
Akodo Mirako was unusual, even for Bayushi Omino, who had traveled and survived enough of the Empire to go some distance before calling someone strange. He had heard that her oddities were the heritage of an Asako mother, and that the elements were fond of (or perhaps meddled with) the young samurai-ko. But regardless of her past, Mirako's present was one of great promise for the future: at twenty-two, she was already a skilled samurai and swordfighter, and held the title of magistrate in the city of Ryoko Owari.
She was also known for being headstrong and honorable: in Ryoko Owari such things were usually accompanied by peoples' guesses on some kind of horrible death.
All of these things made it surprising when the Lion had chosen the Bell Temple, dedicated to Fukurojin, as the place to hold a meeting. It was far more surprising when Omino arrived (a few moments early, to assess the area) and found Mirako sitting atop the wall that separated the temple from the street, staring out across the city like a mariner studying the sea.
Her eyes were distant, not at all like a seasoned magistrate's: they looked far-off, past things in shadows, like a child that had glimpsed something new. Red-dyed hair, cropped short in a simple style, offset a heavy tan that nearly matched the hem of her kimono and the wrapping of her swords. Mirako was a warrior, young and with great expectations. Omino guessed that her reputation stemmed from bold actions and a few lucky guesses.
This, quite obviously, was why she had been so unsuccessful in the ongoing hunt.
"I apologize for making you wait, Omino-san," she said, shaking him from his observations. Mirako's accent was mild, as if she had been trained in Phoenix lands. "I usually practice with my flute here in the morning, but today I simply drifted off as I waited for you."
"There is no harm in that," the older samurai lied, saying nothing more until Mirako had called two guards to clear visitors from the temple grounds. "I was pleased that you decided to meet with me so soon, Mirako-san. The matter that I must discuss with you will not take long." He removed the symbol of the Emerald Magistrates and showed it to her.
"I am taking over the pursuit of a criminal that arrived in Ryoko Owari some time ago."
She was watching the blossoms fall from the trees near the temple now, but remained attentive to his words. "The man once called Negauru; I received a report from a magistrate near Shiro Matsu some time ago, and the history between the two of you is...well known."
You are the reason that he is free in the first place was what Mirako was polite enough not to add. "Ryoko Owari's samurai are, of course, at your service, Omino-san."
Omino returned the badge of office to the pocket in the breast of his kimono. "Your offer of assistance is appreciated, Mirako-sama, but that is not what I require of you. It should be obvious to you that the usual tactics will do me no good in apprehending Negauru." The magistrate removed his silk mask, revealing his handsome, scarred face as a sign of his sincerity.
"With all due respect, Mirako-sama, I need you and yours to stay out of my way."
The Akodo's eyes narrowed, as if she sensed some evil in his gaze. "Stay out of your way, Omino-san?"
He nodded, looking back at the temple. "Shinsei said something about petting scorpions, I believe." He paused, and then added, "On second thought, I suppose it does not really matter whether you agree or not, Mirako. You will not follow Negauru where I will go."
*
"I suspected it after that escape from Mura Sabishii," Omino told Negauru. "You were too well prepared, too well equipped to be an outlaw fleeing into the night. You had been informed, well informed, and the pattern continued: the border outpost near Kosaten Shiro, the ambush near Shiro Matsu, even in the Beiden Shadows you eluded all pursuit--"
"Perhaps you were just not up to the challenge," the criminal said, half jokingly, though the smile had long since left his face.
Omino shook his head. "And perhaps you were no longer on your own. Perhaps you had made allies among those, like you, that hated and betrayed the Empire: again, it was nothing more than a hunch combined with circumstance, but Mirako gave me an opportunity to decide for myself."
"Mirako?" Negauru asked, glancing past Omino to where the young Lion magistrate stood at the edge of the bridge. She seemed so noble, so sure of herself; even a pessimist like the Seppun had trouble believing that the Akodo would have broken her word. "She betrayed your confidence, then."
"She did," Omino admitted with a smile. "But not until I gave her good reason to."
*
The Tokageru Fire, as it came to be called, started small. Rumors would ran rampant in the days that followed: an argument between merchants, an assassination attempt gone wrong, even a raid made on a smuggling ring, with as many variations as people could create. But the simple facts (if there were any) were that the fire had destroyed more than a quarter of the Merchant District, leaving more than a dozen dead and more injured than Mirako cared to think about.
It was nearly dawn by the time she had time to think about it, leaning against a half-burned building in her damp and soot-stained robes. Mirako sighed in thanks for a moment of rest, idly running her thumb across one of the stains that marred her red kurokote. Then someone moved, further down the husk of the alley to one side of the Lion samurai--
Mirako could see nothing more than a hand and a low kasa, but she needed no more.
"Your description appeared again, Omino-san."
The man did not turn to look at her, but said, "Blame your magistrates, Mirako. I thought that you had given your word that I would be free to operate peacefully here: tonight three of them got in my way."
Mirako could not help but smile, despite the anger that crept into her. "I was unaware that my men performing a raid on a group of gamblers and prostitutes would interrupt your 'investigation,' Omino-san. So, have you come up with anything to indicate that Negauru is still here?"
"No," Omino stated in a barely audible grumble. "But I am close--"
"You are breaking the law."
Omino stepped forward from the darkness, dressed more like a traveler than a samurai, in a short kimono and double-laced zori. "If you had done your job in capturing Negauru," he said tersely, almost threateningly, "then I would not be here at all. Do not lecture me on right and wrong." With that, he turned to go, throwing up one hand dismissively.
Her hand was on her sword now, and the warmth of anger touched her face. "Wait," Omino said, still with his back turned to her, unguarded and seemingly unaware of whatever might come. "How did you recognize me just now, Mirako?"
The question caught her off-guard, and she released her weapon. "Your left hand," she told Omino, motioning to it. "There...is a scar."
"So there is," he said, raising his hand to examine it, as if he had forgotten it was there. "I will have to remember that, next time. My thanks, Mirako-san." With that he started off into the crowd of morning merchants, leaving Mirako standing in the street, her hand beside her sword.
*
"Not a bad act, with someone that has not already seen what an idealist you are," Negauru told Omino with a smile. "It must have been shortly after that that I first heard of your presence in Ryoko Owari. The local magistrates were conducting an investigation, possibly seeking to arrest you--"
"A secret investigation," Omino corrected. "Mirako wanted to keep her word, but really, I gave her no choice in the matter. And besides, I had warned her about being compassionate towards a scorpion."
"Thus, the investigation--"
Omino nodded to his adversary, who had obviously grasped the trick behind the game. "And thus, I became a criminal: like you. Corruption among Imperial Magistrates is a rare thing, especially among those that still carry their Emerald Seal. Among the underworld of Ryoko Owari, there were several offers of employment and aid; people who tend to dismiss the obvious, but cannot pass up any secret that they might find. The trick was to guess who you would cross paths with"
"Given your own knowledge, and the Lion's suddenly open investigations into me after your 'failure,'" the old man muttered coldly, "it must have been easy enough to choose."
The only man in the city capable of smuggling a man past an entire force of samurai that were looking for him.
The man lying to one side of the garden bridge, blood running from his face.
The man the underworld called Magimono-no-Kami, the infamous merchant-lord.
*
Of course Omino would never have approached Magimono personally; the merchant had amassed an illegal fortune by being cautious, not by agreeing to a meeting with rogue samurai. But Magimono, like all demons, had built a fortune upon lesser demons. Men like that were mostly craven, corrupted cowards...but Omino knew this was not always the rule.
Some, like the man that handled the merchant's security and yojimbo, were cunning and greedy enough to gamble on a powerful man. Thus did Bayushi Omino finally cross Magimono's path.
Magimono was the kind of man that Omino guessed other merchants strove to emulate; his home and gardens were opulent to the point of crude bragging, decorated with fine paints and rare articles from famous artisans and distant lands. Hardly an hour passed when people did not come and call upon him, promising gifts and favors, hoping to win a part of the merchant's fast fortune or some insight into his keen, tactful mind.
Or at least that was how he had seemed during their first meeting, one night after his employer had assigned Omino as one of the bodyguards during a small party in the merchant's home. But now, after more than a month in his service Omino realized that there was not much to this arrogant, lanky man beyond money and promises. Both were well played, manipulated excellently, and Magimono trusted that they protected him well.
Against a man as determined as Omino was, however, Magimono's defenses were walls of sand before an ocean wave.
In particular, Omino had come face-to-face with one glaring weakness: Magimono had a son.
*
"He was a fool to trust you."
The Bayushi shook his head. "Magimono was no fool, and he did not trust me. He merely trusted his subordinates, trusted them to do their jobs and protect him well," Omino said. "Greed was their weakness, not his.
"And even so, it was only by coincidence that I learned anything at all."
Negauru cocked his head slightly, asking the question. Omino smiled, motioning over his shoulder to where two of Mirako's men held watch over a half dozen of Magimono's guards. "They increased security surrounding the gardens this morning. Had they not, I never would have known for sure."
For a moment, Negauru just stood there in silence, looking past the samurai to where Magimono lay like a broken toy beside his dead son. The criminal lowered his blade slightly, to better gauge his opponent's eyes as he met them. "And was it worth it? My life, for the life of an innocent boy?"
Omino's eyes were as cold and silent as he watched the criminal struggle to keep his own emotions checked, adjusting his jitte to match the old man's lowered sword. "You truly do not understand, Negauru," he said, almost sadly. "Delude yourself if you must, but this was never about you."
*
Negauru disliked the area that Magimono's house stood in: it was too clean, too quiet, and often patrolled by samurai, which made it difficult to approach between the hours of dawn and dusk. In recent months, he had learned well the advantages of alleys and hovels; places where magistrates did not patrol regularly, and other samurai simply did not go. But even so, the merchant had insisted that the two of them meet, face to face, and so Negauru had risked the trip.
Magimono had left the small, servant's door that led into his gardens unlocked; the old man gave a cursory glance to either side of the alley, and then slipped inside.
On the other side waited Magimono-no-Kami, standing on a small bridge that spanned a pool of koi. The merchant looked up as the old man came toward him, a slight smile spreading over a face too angular to be considered fair. "Welcome to my home, Negauru-san," the merchant said cordially, as if an old friend had come to visit, though the criminal did not remember kindness being among the merchant's rumored virtues.
Negauru just bowed to the merchant and displayed his walking staff to Magimono; the merchant's eyes danced over it, catching what another man might consider nothing more than a curious mark along the grain. "I had heard that Master Silk had given you full sanction," Magimono said, upturning the small painted dish he carried and pouring the food to his fat, agile koi. "What has brought you to my door, Negauru-san?"
"Escape," the old man said curtly, stopping to watch the fish flit about in their pool, chasing the last morsels of food. "I need a way to head back north, to slip past my enemies--"
"Your enemy," Magimono corrected, idly fidgeting with the end of his long, straight hair as if they were discussing tea. "I have heard that there is one man that has pursued you for six years, since you escaped from the prisons in Otosan Uchi. It seems like a great deal of trouble, just to be rid of a single man. There are other ways to be rid of such problems, Negauru-san--"
But the old man just shook his head. "You do not know him, Magimono-no-Kami," he said as respectfully as he could speak to what the Kolat considered little more than a mercenary of the streets. "Omino has come close to catching me more than once, even with Master Silk's agents as my allies. You are not the first to consider killing him and being done with it, but he has not survived this long by being a fool. It is my duty to deal with him, and I intend to...but now is not the time."
"Just so there is a time before long, Negauru-san," the merchant-lord said, stressing the inflections as he spoke. "Master Silk is not the most patient among the Masters, I assure you, as I am certain you are aware. Six years is a very long time to wait, after all."
"You forget your place," Negauru said curtly, his eyes now mere slits to focus his anger through and his voice lost of all respect. Magimono took a step back, startled by the old man's sudden venom; the effect was much what he had hoped it would be.
"Master Silk has decided that both my skills and knowledge are well worth the cost and trouble, Magimono. I suggest you do the same."
He gave the merchant a moment to recover himself, and Magimono's face shifted to a sharp, arrogant smirk and he laughed. "With such a gaze, one might think you still were a samurai! But do not worry, Negauru-san. The arrangements were set in motion long before we had arranged for a meeting; indeed, just after our informants mentioned that Bayushi Omino was here."
The old man seemed skeptical, but smiled nonetheless. "You do your job well, Magimono-no-Kami."
He accepted the compliment with a bow. "Yes, as I am well paid to do, Negauru-san. Rest assured, within the hour you will be--"
"Magimono-no-Kami! Magimono-sama!!" came a series of shouts from the garden nearest the house. Magimono reacted impressively, whirling so that his figure hid Negauru while still offering him a view of the newcomers as they approached the bridge.
"I was not to be disturbed!" the merchant roared at the first two men, who wore the kimono and weapons of ronin guardsmen, while the second pair had one man leaning heavily on the next. "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourselves, and quickly!"
"My lord, it's the young master!" one of the guards said quickly, motioning to the man supporting the other. Both wore kasa and kimono fit for a short journey through the city, but the smaller of the one did not move at all. "There was a fight, in the Pleasure District, and...and he..."
Negauru hissed in shock, seeing that the limp figure's throat was splattered with blood. Magimono's eyes were not quite as sharp, and when he realized what had happened, a father's terror sprang to his face. "F-fetch a healer! Quickly!" he shouted at the guards, hurrying them away and seizing his dying son from his companion. "Who did this?" he demanded of the man that had carried him into the garden, but instead of answering the man turned to face Seppun Negauru.
Too late Negauru noticed the slender jitte, held loosely in the man's bandaged left hand.
One stroke to the head sent Magimono crashing down beside his child. Bayushi Omino removed his kasa, a mixture of calm and resolution upon his scarred, handsome face. He tossed the hat to one side, where it fell into the water, adrift among the koi.
"Konnichiwa, Negauru-san," the samurai said with the slightest of bows.
Negauru found himself hardly surprised a moment later, when the Akodo arrived.
*
"Lives exchanged for other lives, Negauru. Even you know that is what being samurai means," Omino told the older man coldly, motioning towards where Magimono lay. "He was a traitor to the Empire and his own people, but no, I took no delight in breaking a father's heart as I did. Much less were you worth the life of his son; despite all his father's dealings, the city knew the boy as an honorable man." He glanced over to where the assembled samurai stood with ready swords.
"That is why Mirako-sama is here," Negauru said, suddenly understanding. "Not for me. For you."
At last, Negauru understood the Bayushi perfectly, and that wisdom brought a sneer of contempt to his weathered face. "You are the kind of man I despise, Omino," he said softly, raising his sword again. "Throwing life away...ruining people...for nothing more than your own pride."
Omino's voice was again almost mournful. "Not pride, Negauru.
"Justice."
"Foolishness!" Negauru sprang, ending their words, moving with a speed that surprised his foe. The old man attacked, slashing at Omino, driving him backwards with long sweeps of his blade. The Scorpion parried, guarding twice with his scarred jitte, and then thrust once, hard, catching the blade and driving his weapon deep into Negauru's stomach with a single move.
Frozen, the foes stood nearly face to face with one another; Negauru coughed painfully, glancing down at the jitte. "I never thought...you would abandon...your sword, Omino--"
"Six years, Negauru," he answered, snapping the sword cleanly as he yanked the blunted tip away. "Plenty of time to change."
The criminal staggered, unable to compensate for the injury, and collapsed beside Magimono with a groan. Akodo Mirako's magistrates swarmed the bridge and the fallen even as the criminal toppled, most coming forward with readied swords.
Omino threw his hands up, letting his jitte clatter among the men at his feet. Mirako's men seized the Scorpion roughly, forcing him down on one knee. "You must be quite gifted, to have guessed that I was behind the disturbance at the House of the Blue Carp," he told the Akodo as she stepped forward and recovered his fallen weapon.
"You are not the only one with sources," she told him dismissively. "Besides, it was simple enough to put together, once I heard the man taken was Magimono's son. And you left his bodyguards; I have been in Ryoko Owari long enough to recognize the marks of a Bayushi's blade."
The Scorpion just smiled and shook his head, obviously impressed despite Mirako's modesty.
Mirako waved to men to release him, but even then Omino remained dutifully where he was. "Why do this?" she asked as Negauru was hauled to his feet and bound. "You said yourself that he was not worth all of this. You have ruined these lives...your life, also...for the capture of one honorless man."
"It was never about him," the Bayushi answered, rising and wrapping his scarred face in a silken scrap. He noticed the question in Mirako's eyes, and added, "Negauru imagined that we had some kind of bond, as if he were my nemesis. I had no interest in his game of hate."
He noticed that Mirako was still looking at him, and he chuckled. "If you are a magistrate, then I should not have to tell you why I did what I did today."
"Indulge me," she said with a touch of demand in her voice.
Omino reached into his kimono and withdrew his Emerald Seal. He held it out, letting the light catch its gold edges, and said, "Justice, Mirako-sama. The law, if you like, but it comes to the same thing. Negauru was guilty; he deserved to answer for his crimes. I did my duty, something no one else could, but in doing so made myself guilty as well."
The Scorpion placed his seal into Mirako's hand, the rough, dirty fingers scraping against Mirako's smooth skin as he relinquished the emblem. "And my fate shall be the same as his: take me away."
The Akodo nodded slowly, motioning for her men to flank Omino, and then turned to lead him away. "For my part, I doubted your integrity, Omino-san," she told him as they left the gardens of the merchant-lord. "Even with my testimony now, it is likely that you will lose your position...or more."
"I have a cousin in this city that can act as my second," the Scorpion answered, as if he had already known what was to come. "Even if Hachi chooses to be merciful, I will not remain a samurai for long. Do your duty, Mirako-san."
The two walked in silence for awhile, escorted past the crowd of samurai that had gathered to see the commotion now surrounding Magimono's house. "Ryoko Owari is a dangerous place, in need of much justice," the samurai-ko said softly, almost uncertainly, once they had walked far enough that the crowd was no longer visible. "Perhaps the Emerald Champion will find compassion, in light of your years of loyal service. If so, I...could use good counsel, perhaps a Shintao instructor...or a Scorpion tender. My lord would have no problem with me hiring on such a man."
Omino smirked, though the Lion could not see it beneath his mask.
Whether he lived or died, perhaps Akodo Mirako would survive in the City of Lies after all.
* * *