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Motoichi

Motoichi


D-rank
Motoichi could remember the story his grandfather would tell him as a bedtime story back when he was little.  Now, as a man, Motoichi would tell the story to himself as a way of reminding him where he came from.  Usually he’d do it when he needed to calm himself down or to refocus him back to training.  Sitting on a bench inside the Hidden Leaf village looking at the honored shinobi monument, he began the story, imagining his grandfather telling it to him again as a way for him to relax and put his mind off some of the more business he had carried out while visiting.

And so, as he imagined it, he could almost hear his grandfather tell it to him.  “This town was no longer friendly.  A few short days ago when I dusted the road off my travel weary body,” his grandfather would say, telling a story from his own life experiences.  “I was welcomed with open arms.  They were glad to see me then; children ran excitedly around me mimicking my walk, women lowered their eyes to the floor in blushing admiration and men shook my hand, listened to my tales and bought me drinks.

“Then I was a potential savior.  The man who would save them and throw down the yoke of oppression that had left them quaking in terror.  But now, I am no longer the hero but another one of the hated.  Killer, murderer, a problem; take your pick.

“Even as the blood of the fallen soaks into the sand and dries in the never ending prairie wind I am aware of the baleful stares of the townsfolk, despite them hiding in the gloom behind twitching curtains and fastened windows.

“What did they expect? Some sense of empowerment or a glorious cheer from on high?  No. It was murder.

“All they got for their money was a short lived relief from the terror before the suspicion starts again.  For he who laid there was me on only a few short months ago.

“It was murder, sanctioned by money.

“I was born fast, born skilled, and endless practice had made me one of the best: until someone better came along.

“He had been the best once.

“A brief rush of adrenaline, noise, the smell of blood in the air and then one of us crumples to the dust.  This time it had been him.

“The best, the fastest, the answer to all their problems.

“Knifeslinger: I may have been feared and admired, but I can call nowhere home.  My knives and my skill defined my existence.”

Motoichi’s grandfather would pause for a moment, having given background to the story before diving right in.


Post: 453

Motoichi

Motoichi


D-rank
Mayuki watched from the window of the store as the tumbleweeds drifted past in the ever present wind that existed only in the lands of the Earth Country.  She sighed as if in mocking counterpoint to the gale outside.  Noting ever happened in Mimbres.  Although beautiful, it was a stark beauty; the dusty prairie deserts lying in sterile flatness between the knife-like peaks to the east and west.  The hills that surrounded the town were garlanded in the deep, dark viridian of the evergreen forests, rising majestically to the chilly snow capped mountain tops that still claimed the lives of adventurous fools year on year.

At present though, there were no fools other than her and her husband in their dying business.  The recently installed pumps that dispensed water to passing riders and their horses were beginning to pull in some trade though, so perhaps the end wasn’t inevitable.

She sighed again.  Harry had gone down the street to talk to the bank manager and she was in charge for the afternoon.  The wind, with its bitterly abrasive cargo of sand, kept most people inside, shielding their fragile eyes behind warm wooden walls and shuttered windows.

It wasn’t just Mimbres though, it seemed as though the whole world was going through the storm with them.  She glanced at the doom laden headline on the newspaper that lay next to her elbow.

“Land of Rain invades Land of Waterfalls]

How long would it be, she wondered, before the Land of Earth would join in?  The Land of Fire and the Land of Lightning seemed to be gearing up for war, and Europe was slowly spiraling into chaos.  The Great War of the last generation might yet be merely a prelude to something far worse.

Looking back out through the window, she thought she saw something moving with some sort of purpose in the chaos of windblown dust and endlessly shifting sand, and hoped desperately that she was right.  A customer, any customer, would be welcome today.

As she watched, a shape began to gain form in the hazy brown world outside.  A man on a horse appeared as a darker brown stain in the dust laden winds, and then as the form coalesced from the sands she recognized the shape of Old Jonichi, his wide brimmed hat tied firmly to his head, his heavy travel poncho wrapped tightly around his aged frame.

As the old man got slowly off his horse outside, Mayuki remembered herself and straightened her shop apron, patting her tightly bunned hair almost girlishly to make sure she looked her best for her first customer of the day.

Tying his horse in the lee of the shop so that it was out of the wind, Jonichi made sure that his mount was securely tied with its nose bag in place before he moved towards the shop door.  The bell tinkled gently above the door and Jonichi walked into the store amidst a sudden swirl of storm, and then firmly evicted the storm to its proper place outside.  Once the door was shut, he approached the counter.  His movements still sure and fluid despite his age, blue eyes twinkling and a smile gracing his wrinkled face as he greeted her, placing a pair of empty saddlebags on the counter.

“Afternoon, ma’am” he said, doffing his hat and holding it in his hands. “I take it I find you in good health?”

Mayuki smiled in genuine delight, she had always liked Old Jonichi.  The man had been coming into the shop for decades, although he sometimes went for months without stopping in.  The shop had always been a part of her life and once old enough, she had worked there with her parents.  Eventually once she and Harry had gotten married, her parents had passed the shop on to them, retiring almost gratefully it seemed: then she had got Jonichi all to herself.  His old world style and mannerisms always left her feeling slightly breathless, and despite being around eighty, his effortless charm always made her smile and wonder what he would have been like as a younger man.

“It’s lovely to see you, Jonichi; you’ve made a dull and dusty afternoon seem suddenly bright.”

The man dipped his head at the compliment and smiled widely.

“May I presume on your hospitality, ma’am?  I have a list of items I need.”

“Jonichi, please call me Mayuki.”

“You are a married woman, ma’am, but I guess times are changin’.  Mayuki it is then, although I still remember you as little Mayu.” He smiled again, remembering the cute little girl in her pigtails.

“Are you busy? I noticed them new pump things out the front.  Can I plug Humphrey into them?”

Mayuki moved around the counter to take the scrap of paper Jonichi held in his hand and smiled at him.  “I don’t think your horse would appreciate a jet stream of water.  Though he’d like the trough that’s right by them pumps.  Things are quiet, but we’re expecting the post through in a moment with the mining wages, so we’ll have Nasuke here shortly to guard the pay until the mines send someone down to pick him up.  It’s always nice to have some people around to talk to, particularly on a, stormy day like today.”

Mayuki bustled around the store for a few minutes gathering Jonichi’s supplies.  He lived a secluded life she knew, having an old style wooden cabin up in the mountains, way off the beaten track.

As Joe waited, he was struck as always by how little the place had changed over the years.  The store was one of the oldest buildings in Mimbres along with the bank, stables and saloon, and still bore bullet holes in some of the beams from the days when the place was a frontier town in the olden days.  It had been extended many times in the last sixty odd years, but the main part of the shop still had the rich smells of a small store ingrained into its timbers.  He closed his eyes momentarily, remembering.

His train of thought was interrupted abruptly by a fresh tinkle of the door bell, and a man in uniform carrying a strongbox came in, bringing a fresh batch of windswept dust devils with him that swirled maniacally around for a few moments until the door was shut, robbing them of life.

Mayuki poked her head around the corner of one of the wooden shelves and smiled.  “Hi Nasuke, just pop it down in the corner there out of the way.  Do you want a cup of coffee while you’re waiting?”

“That would be lovely, Mayuki, thank you.  The dust out there is enough to kill a man, I swear.”

“Jonichi, would you like a cup as well?”

“That would be mighty fine, ma’am, er … I mean Mayuki,” he corrected swiftly as Mayuki gave him a cautionary look.

“Right then, okay.  Just let me sort this list out, the pot’s going on the stove but I’ll need to get a few things out of the cupboard.”

Mayuki plonked the box of goods on the counter and looked out of the window as the wind howled around the building.  She quikly totted up the total and then moved the box across to Jonichi who packed his goods carefully into his saddle bags.

“I think it’s getting worse,” she said. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright to travel in this Jonichi?”

“I’ve survived worse, Mayuki.  Once I get up into the woods I’ll be fine, the trees will stop the dust in its tracks.”

“Right, well before you go I’ll make sure you have a nice warming drink in you.  I’ll just get some mugs.  Nasuke: Cream, Sugar?

Nasuke’s reply was interrupted as the door to the store flew open for a third time.  The bell seeming to alarm rather than welcome this time though as a man in a dusty Stetson jumped through the open door, a bandana across his mouth and pulled up over his nose.  Mayuki watched in horror as, senbon launchers in each hand, he pulled both triggers, the simultaneous boom of the launchers stunning her to immobility.  One senbon punched Nasuke from his feet; dead before he hit the ground as the senbon bullet sang through his brain pan.  As he hit the timbers, the old man standing next to him was spun off his feet as the other bullet took him high in the shoulder, landing him painfully on his knees and gasping for breath as the pain and shock hit him.

With two potential opponents out of the way, the gunman made for the door, which was quickly slammed shut and bolted, and then grabbed Mayuki by the hair, backhanding her viciously across the mouth with a gloved hand, sending her staggering across the shop floor towards the old man.

Jonichi stood; pain etching grim lines of anger across the wrinkles of his face.  He caught Mayuki as she stumbled towards him and his good arm circled her shoulders protectively.

“If you hit her again, you bastard, I’ll kill you.” Jonichi’s words were delivered with a quiet certainty that stopped the masked man for a few seconds before he realized he was the one with the senbon launchers, and he stepped towards them, raising his weapons threateningly.

“You are in no position to threaten me, old man.  Now, both of you sit down and shut the hell up.  Once my friend gets here, I will take the silver and leave you alone.  Be good, and you’ll survive.  Give me any more grief and you’ll end up like him.”  He waved one weapon at Nasuke whose blood was slowly staining the floorboards of the shop.



Post: 1657
Total: 2110
Trained Speed from D-1 to D-3. 850/850
Trained Endurance from D-0 to D-3. 1175/1175
85 words leftover

Motoichi

Motoichi


D-rank
"Sit down!" he shouted as they hesitated, waving the senbon launchers at them menacingly once more.

Jonichi, helped by a terrified Mayuki, slumped to the floor by the counter.  He stared balefully at the robber as the man changed the sign on the shop door to "Closed", before drawing the blinds.  He tucked his guns into the holsters on his hips and peeked nervously through the blinds every now and again, occasionally casting a menacing glance back at the two survivors on the floor to make sure that they were obeying his warning.

Mayuki was now shaking in terror, tears rolling down her face and she leant into the bony form of Jonichi, who lifted his poncho onto his left shoulder and carefully stuffed a clean handkerchief into the wound in the crease of his arm, wincing as he did so.

"Do ... does it hurt?" Mayuki's pale face looked at the wound.

"Yes, a little bit." Jonichi finished his rudimentary dressing and looked at Mayuki's upturned face.  "Don't worry, ma'am, we'll be just fine.  I've been in worse fixes than this before.  All we have to do is sit it out."

"But you're hurt and old, and I'm shaking so much I can barely talk.  Oh God, what are we going to do?"

The old man looked at her as she started shaking anew, the shock of the situation threatening to spill her over the edge into panic.  She started to cry, great heaving sobs rattling her body as Jonichi looked at her helplessly.

"You'd better shut her up old man, or I'll shoot the both of you to keep her quiet." The robber's voice rasped across the room.

"What the hell do you want me to do, you idiot?"

"I don't give a shit, you can sing her a song or tell her a story for all I care, just shut her up."

"Mayuki," said Jonichi softly, putting his good right arm around her shoulders and drawing her into a hug.

"Mayuki, come on, calm down now.  We'll be fine."

She looked at him through tear drenched eyes, slowly gathering herself.  A few seconds later she had herself mostly under control, but was still shaking and pale.  Jonichi watched as she drew on some source of inner strength, marvelling as he always did at the core of steel that seemed to reside inside of all the women he'd ever known.

"Jonichi. Why aren't you scared?"

The old man looked mildly shocked at her words for a moment, shaken from his admiration, and then smiled gently at her, keeping his voice to a whisper that barely carried over the wind.  "Oh, I'm scared.  I just don't intend to let that worthless piece of scum know it.  If I'm honest, I don't particularly want to die yet; there are a few things I need to tidy up before I shuffle off this mortal coil and well I've got a few other things I'd like to do, and places I'd like to see.

"I guess that I've had a lot of occasion in my life to be scared and maybe I've gotten used to it a little.  Although the last few years have been pretty quiet up in the mountains, you never really forget the fear.  While we're still alive though, there's always hope.  I learnt a long time ago to trust in fate and look for a chance when it presents itself.  We're still talking, so we still have a few chances left to us.  We may yet surprise him.

"Mayuki, no man has ever harmed a woman while I've been around.  I protected my mother when I was a young man, and while I still draw breath I will protect you now."

He gently reached over to hold her hand, and as she looked at him in surprise, he appeared to look unsure of himself briefly, but then nodded slightly, and seemed to come to some sort of decision.  Taking a deep steadying breath he smiled at her and spoke again in a low tone, the words almost tumbling out as he released his burden.

"I have a past."  He breathed deep again and looked up at the beams in the ceiling, his eyes following the beams and tracing back into history.

"You know I used to be Sheriff of this town," She nodded, wide eyed, the robber all but forgotten in the flow of impassioned words of the old man who gently held her hand.

"I've been shot at before, but sometimes I was shot at by the law." he confessed.  Jonichi looked across at the gunman, who was still intent on the blowing sand and wind outside, more concerned with what he was waiting for than the old man and frightened woman who sat on the floor helpless and at his mercy.

"Perhaps it's finally time," he said, his whispered thought almost lost in the rage of the storm.  "Maybe someone should know the truth. It looks like we might be here for a little while and maybe it'll take your mind off things some."

The old man smiled almost shyly, and as Mayuki looked deep into his solemn brown eyes, his gaze shifted once more to the bullet holes in the beams and back into his past...




"Shit."

The man at the door of the shop swore, breaking into Jonichi's whispered tale of the past and startling them both with the vehement expletive.  As they followed his gaze, it soon became apparent that the man's agitation was due to a horse pulling alongside one of the new pumps that stood sentinel-like outside.

"It's Mr. Takusu," said Mayuki, panic welling up inside her anew.  "He always seems to stop in for gas just after Nasuke turns up with the wages."

"You," said the man by the door gesturing with his gun, "get rid of him."

"Just go out, serve him and tell him you'll put it on his tab," said Jonichi quietly.  "Act natural, take your time and have a quick chat with him, do everything you'd normally do."

"For once, the old man is speaking sense, get rid of him quietly. If you don't, I'll shoot grandpa here, do I make myself clear?"

Mayuki gulped and scuttled over to the door, Jonichi giving her a quick reassuring squeeze on the arm as she moved away.

The storm blasted in through the door momentarily, rattling the blinds and frantically tinkling the door bell as the gunman opened it to let her out.  She moved over to Mr. Takusu's horse, chatted briefly with him and then filled the trough for the horse.  There was utter silence inside as she did this, Jonichi shifting a couple of times, the robber watching him intently as the old man tried to get comfortable.

"Sit still old man, you squirm more than a child."

"There aren't many three year olds who get shot by idiots," retorted Jonichi, a slight smile on his face.

"Don't push me old man, I can still shoot you."

"You wouldn't be the first," responded Jonichi mildly. "Here she comes," he said blocking any further retort.

Mayuki had handed the reins back to Mr. Takusu and waved at him as he rode away.  Once he was out of sight she moved swiftly back to the store.

As she came through the door, the gunman slammed it behind her, locking it quickly and then grabbed her roughly by the throat.

"What did you say to him?" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Did you tell him anything?"

"N.. No," stuttered Mayuki, wide eyed with terror as the man pressed the gun into her forehead.

"He just asked why we were shut. I said that trade had been slow and I'd only just turned the sign when he rode in so thought I'd better serve him.  He seemed happy with the answer and rode off."

"You'd better not have said anything."

He pushed her away from him and then backhanded her across the face again.  Jonichi, unable to lift himself from the floor in time to catch her, watched helplessly as she sprawled into the counter in a welter of crashing tins and packets of beef jerky.

As Jonichi moved to stand next to her, she started to cry, deep sobs shaking her body as the old man's arms encircled her.  He looked up over her shoulder at the gunman, holding his gaze.

"You shouldn't hit women," he stated bluntly, his voice rising with anger.

"And who's going to stop me? You? Sit down old man and keep her out of the way."

"I warned you, you can't say I didn't warn you," he whispered.

He went back to watching the window as Jonichi helped Mayuki back to their former position on the floor, and for many moments Jonichi held her in his arms despite the pain of his wound, before smoothing back the hair from her forehead as her sobs began to subside.

"You look very much like your great grandfather you know, you have the same eyes."

"You knew him?"

"Yes, ver well, he was a good man.  He gave me a chance when no one else but my brother seemed inclined to."

"Your brother had a large impact on your life didn't he?"

"He did, and certainly a more positive impact than my father or step-father did."

Mayuki looked at the man by the door who was once again intent on the shadows that swirled through the storm outside.  "Perhaps it might help if you carried on from where we were interrupted?"

"Well, ma'am, you certainly seem an appreciative audience to an old man's ramblings and I certainly never like to disappoint a lady."

Jonichi smiled and resumed his monologue, his eyes watching the man by the door.



Post: 1684
Total: 1769

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