Page 35 of Shadow of the Fox

I glanced at her. She was walking beside me down the trail with her head tilted upward, gazing into the branches. Overhead, the sun slanted through the leaves, mottling the forest floor, and several small, feathered creatures flitted back and forth above us, chirping. I hadn’t noticed until she pointed it out, but the woods did seem a little brighter today, less oppressive. I guess my slaying Kiba-sama had helped the forest, just as the kodama had said.

My gaze lingered on Yumeko. A smile graced her lips as she followed the movements of the birds, the sun gleaming off her black hair and sliding over her skin. This morning, she had left a small portion of rice at the base of one of the oak trees, a gift for the kodama. Though in the bright sunlight, it was hard to imagine that the night before, it had been filled with kami.

I shook myself. Last night had been surreal in many ways. I still couldn’t believe I’d revealed so much, both about myself and the sword. The Kage would not be pleased that I’d told her of Hakaimono, but if we were to travel together, at least now she was forewarned. She had certainly surprised me yesterday, both in saving my life and speaking to the kami on my behalf. I’d never thought I’d be indebted to a peasant girl with no warrior training, but there was certainly more to her than I’d first thought. I was...somewhat relieved that the truth about Kamigoroshi hadn’t frightened her away.

Deep inside, I could feel Hakaimono’s cold amusement.Yes, it seemed to whisper. Keep her around. Tell her there is nothing to fear, that you will be able to protect her. It will make the moment you strike her down all the sweeter.

Chilled, I severed the connection and felt the demon fade away, though the echo of its laughter rippled through me, accenting my mistake. I’d spoken of demons and yokai and the things that wanted me dead, but in truth, the greatest danger to Yumeko was standing right beside her.

After a few hours, we left the forest and followed the river once more as it wound lazily through a valley, heading north toward the capital. By my estimations, we were perhaps a day or two from the border, which was going to be a problem. I’d lost my travel papers when my horse had fled the amanjaku, and there was no way to acquire more, legally or not. No one cared about the peasant class, so Yumeko would be fine, but an unauthorized samurai wandering through another clan’s territory was cause for alarm. Without proper documents, if we went through the checkpoint between territories, I would likely be detained for an indefinite amount of time while they decided what to do with me. Since that option was out of the question, I was going to have to find a way around, as sneaking through the checkpoint with Yumeko would be too risky.

A flutter of blue caught my eye, coming from a way station standing alone at the edge of the trail. The small wooden establishments were fairly common on the roads between towns, places where travelers could stop and purchase a hot meal or even a bed before continuing to their destination. Blue curtains were draped across the entrance and a miniature tanuki statue holding a sake jug perched in the window, welcoming customers.

Yumeko stopped in the middle of the road, inhaling deeply. “What is this place?” she wondered. “It smells wonderful.”

“Just a rest stop,” I told her. “You can buy a meal here, if you have the coin. We’re probably a few miles from a town...” I trailed off as she gave me a wide-eyed, hopeful look, and sighed. “I take it you’re hungry again.”

“I gave my rice to the kodama this morning,” she replied, looking plaintive. “All I’ve had to eat today is a plum.”

Digging into my money pouch, I silently handed her a few copper kaeru, and she smiled at me before hurrying to the rest stop window. She returned with two bowls of steaming soba noodles, and we took our food around the side of the building to eat. Low wooden benches lined the wall, spaced a few feet apart, but not all of them were empty.

A lone traveler slouched on a bench a few seats down, a sake bottle on the wooden surface and a cup in his hand. He was perhaps a few years older than me, wearing a tattered vest and trousers, and his dark, reddish brown hair was tied back while still managing to look unkempt. A single short blade was shoved through his obi, and a large onyx-wood bow lay on the bench beside him. He caught my gaze and smirked, lifting the sake cup in a mocking salute, before tipping the contents into his mouth.

I ignored him, having seen his kind many times before. A ronin, one of the masterless samurai that, through shame, dishonor, or the death of their lord, had been stripped of all wealth and titles and wandered the country in disgrace. A few found new lords to serve under, but many took whatever jobs they could, offering themselves as bodyguards or hired muscle, while others turned to banditry and murder. They were considered uncouth and uncivilized, having abandoned the code of Bushido and everything they once stood for, and the samurai despised them. Because they were a constant reminder of what could happen to any of them, at any time.

I perched on the edge of the seat as Yumeko sat down beside me, already engrossed in her food. I deliberately did not look in the ronin’s direction, though I could feel his gaze on us as he took another swig of sake, drinking straight from the bottle this time. In my travels, I had encountered two main types of troublemakers—the type who took offense to being noticed, and the type who took offense to being ignored. Of course, there were also the ones who were just looking for trouble, and they were impossible to avoid. I hoped this ronin wasn’t that type.

“Oi,” came a mocking voice from the other end of the benches, dashing my hopes. The ronin was watching Yumeko, a wide smirk on his face. “I saw that look. Don’t you know it’s rude to stare, little lady?”

Yumeko blinked and looked up from her bowl, a mouthful of soba dangling from her lips. She swallowed quickly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t staring at you,” she said. “Unless you’re talking about the noodles. And I’m pretty certain the noodles don’t care.”

“Ignore him,” I told her quietly, concentrating on my own food. “He’s trying to bait you into conversation.”

“I heard that,” the ronin stated, sitting upright on the bench. “Andthatwas very rude. If I were still a samurai, I might have to demand satisfaction from your quiet friend there.” He rose, and I wished I still had the kunai throwing knives hidden in my bracers. Still, if he made any threatening moves, he would be dead before he knew what was happening.

Hakaimono stirred, sensing trouble, and I shoved the demon’s presence down.

Slinging the bow over his shoulders, the ronin sauntered forward, that defiant smirk still creasing his face. “Luckily for you,” he went on, “I’m a filthy ronin dog with no honor left to his name. Don’t want to risk soiling your own by having a civil conversation with me, right?”

Yumeko cocked her head, puzzled and unafraid. “What’s a ronin?”

The other’s brows rose. Clearly, that was not what he’d expected. “Uh, well. They’re... You really don’t know what a ronin is?”

Yumeko shook her head. “I lived in a temple all my life,” she explained. “I don’t know much about the outside world, but I’m sorry if I offended you. If you would, please tell me what a ronin is, so that I won’t insult anyone else in the future.”

For a moment, the ronin just stared at her. Finally, he chuckled and shook his head. “Apologies, my lady,” he stated, and gave an overexaggerated, mocking bow. “As I said before, I’m a ronin. We’re dirty, uncouth barbarians who have forgotten our manners along with our honor, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit rusty on the social graces.” He seemed proud of that fact as he straightened again, smiling. “Let’s see if I can remember how to be polite. My name is Hino Okame. And whom do I have the honor of conversing with this fine afternoon?”

“Yumeko,” the girl replied. “And I’m no lady, just a peasant from the mountains. So, I’m a bit rusty on social graces, too.”

“Oh?” Without pretense, the ronin sat beside her, making me drop my hand to my sword hilt. Neither the ronin nor Yumeko seemed to notice. “So, you’re from the mountains, eh? What are you doing out here?”

“Traveling. Tatsumi and I are on our way to the capital.”

“Ever been to the city before?”

“No.” Yumeko shook her head. “Never. The outside world so far is...strange. But exciting.” She smiled and looked down the road, where it stretched away toward the distant mountains. “I’m learning so much. I can’t wait to see what’s around the next bend.”

“Huh.” The ronin snorted. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in time, Yumeko-san. The world is full of bandits, murderers, liars and thieves. You can’t trust anyone. Especially ronin. Ever seen wild dogs before?” His grin crept back, defiant. “If they think you have food, they’ll follow you for a while, but try to pet them and they’ll go right for your throat.”

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