Returner

Chapter One
Muddy Road

Hikuchi was hungry as usual. He could smell the sweet scent of fried rice with pork issuing forth in great clouds from the restaurant closest to him. His mouth watered and his stomach growled. He looked at all the people bustling around him. They looked so well fed.

Scanning the ground, Hikuchi looked for some sort of money he could use. Maybe he could buy some barbequed squid, or bowl of soba noodles, if only he could find a little money.

Suddenly, Hikuchi saw a commotion in the street. Men we're shouting, women screaming.

"Motsuba is dead!" voices cried. Hikuchi saw men run past, carrying the blue skinned body of a man who was obviously a samurai. His eyes were open, but they were empty. His face still wore its death mask of surprise. Hikuchi realized he recognized the warrior as a man who had kicked him in the head when he asked for a spare coin. Wincing, he rubbed where the bump had been.

'I'm almost glad he's dead,' Hikuchi thought, but then he promptly scolded himself for thinking such a thing. The din of the passing men's zori sandals made Hikuchi's head hurt something awful, but he resolved to follow them. They were headed in the direction of Lord Nakamura's big house. Hikuchi knew: he often went in that direction himself just to look at the place. Hikuchi knew there was no way he could follow the men into the house, but there was a large sakura tree he could climb in order to listen.

When Hikuchi made it up the tree, they were already engaged in conversation.

"This was no untrained commoner who did this!" said an angry voice. "Motsuba was highly trained!"

"Perhaps it had something to do with the killings at the puppet house…" said another.

"That cursed ronin! Dishonorable, the whole lot of them. Wandering from place to place, following no master. I say we find this ronin and kill him."

"And end up like Motsuba? Or the other five? Obviously this ronin is very strong."

"But we must avenge Motsuba!" one man shouted.

"Yes! Revenge for Motsuba!"

The conversation degenerated in to shouting and arguing. Hikuchi strained to hear, but he couldn't make out what any one man was saying. Every here and there he heard screams of "Kill the ronin" and such, but other than that is was pandemonium.

"Silence!" boomed the loud voice of Lord Nakamura. The men fell silent. "We do not have enough information. If we are to attack this ronin, we need to know more about him. We will not quarrel among ourselves over something so trivial! I agree, the loss of Motsuba so soon after the slaying at the puppet house of disturbing. But I did tell Motsuba not to act on his own. I encourage you all to do the same. Now…"

Hikuchi strained to hear what Lord Nakamura was saying. He stretched out on a limb in an attempt to get closer, but the limb was not strong enough and it snapped, sending Hikuchi crashing through Lord Nakamura's roof.
Hikuchi froze. The men all stared at him, their faces angry. The first thing Hikuchi noticed is that they all were carrying katana, then next is that he had landed on Motsuba's dead body. Hikuchi shrieked and ran as fast as he could. Any curiosity he had about the fate of the ronin vanished instantly, replaced by fear for his life. As he ran through the streets, he could hear the clacking of zori sandals. Hikuchi dodged through back alleys and around street corners in an attempt to lose his pursuers, but they still followed him. Eventually, Hikuchi found himself on the path leading out of the city. He looked behind and the men were still following, angry as ever. Suddenly, Hikuchi collided with something as hard as a mountain. He fell to the ground, stunned. Looking up, he noticed what he had run into was a man wearing white hakama and a royal blue kimono, his face concealed by a kasa hat. A samurai. Hikuchi quickly hid behind him. The men slowed to a stop.

"Why are you chasing this boy?" the mysterious samurai asked. "Did he steal something from you?"

"No," one of his pursuers said. "He—"

"The boy looks hungry; I wouldn't be surprised if he had. But if he has stolen nothing from you, why do you pursue him like this? You all look as if you intend to kill the boy should you catch him." The samurai's voice was calm, and it had a comforting quality. There was something odd about it however, and Hikuchi couldn't quite determine what that something was.

"This-this boy! This street rat crashed through the roof of the daimyo, defiled the body of our dead comrade Motsuba and ran away before we could question him as to why! He was obviously listening to a very sensitive conversation, not intended for ears of commoners. He deserves to be punished!"

The mysterious bushi smiled.

"Did you consider the fact that the boy merely fell from a tree and was so scared he had no other option but to run? You men call yourselves samurai? Is not the compassion for those of a lower station one of the very principles we live by?"

The group of men seemed confused. Either the questions had stumped them or they were simply dumbfounded as to why this samurai seemed to dislike them so much. Finally one of the men responded.

"How would you know the intentions of this boy unless you were him?"

"I don't," said the samurai. "That is why I propose we ask the boy himself."

The men were yet ever more confused at this statement. One of the men gritted his teeth.

"Fine boy," he said, his voice filled with contempt. "What were you up to?"
All of the men turned to face Hikuchi. His mind raced to think up a believable story, because what the men had said was all true and punishment was bound to be something hideous.

"I-I-I was getting a s-sa-sakura blossom for my sister. Sh-she's sick and I wanted her to have something pretty before…" Hikuchi hung his head for affect, hoping the men wouldn't notice his shaking hands.

Apparently they didn't, because after grumbling for a bit they all left. That is all except for the one mysterious samurai.

"What's your name boy?" he asked kindly

"Hikuchi."

"Well, I'm Kosuke. Muranaka Kosuke. I take it you really don't have a sister, right Hikuchi- kun?"

"No. My entire family is dead... uh… Muranaka- senpai."

The samurai smiled and removed his hat. Finally Hikuchi could see his face. It was pretty, far too pretty to be a man's in fact. Hikuchi's eyes widened.

"Are you a girl?" he spouted out before he could stop himself. The kind samurai merely chuckled however.

"Only in my appearance. As far as I'm concerned, I've been raised my entire life to inherit my father's place at head of our clan. I've been trained in the ways of Bushido since I was very young. I've always considered myself a man, and that is what my father has considered me, despite what I look like." Hikuchi nodded, although he was confused. It was true now that he thought of it. Kosuke wore white hakama with separated legs, he wore a kimono like a man, his voice and his manner was all rather masculine. In fact the only thing remotely feminine about him was his face. But then Kosuke spoke. "I'm trying to return to my father's house. If you wanted to come with me, I'd let you. Perhaps I could ask my father to adopt you… you could become a bushi you know."

Hikuchi was shocked.

"Really? Uh- I mean… is that possible? Muranaka- senpai?"

Kosuke nodded.

"But why are you being so nice to me?" Hikuchi asked. He really was rather confused. The most kindness he had gotten from a samurai prior to this was the kick in the face Motsuba had given him.

"The way you were running from those men… you're rather quick. Plus, I guess you could say I've taken a liking to you." Kosuke smiled again. Hikuchi smiled back, and they soon left the city behind them, following the muddy road in the direction of the rising sun.