Setsu

He asked the question that she dared not even ask herself: Could she talk?

It was the scariest thing that anyone ever asked of her, forcing her to very suddenly face the truth or fashion her well-worn lies. The truth was that she did not know. The lies involved bear-sized sidesteps and questions answered with questions.

What she had written in response was so much the truth that it didn't occur to her to question it. In the inky characters, she wrote in the straight lines of their shared tongue, "There is no voice for Setsu." Even her thoughts, protected behind dark eyes and unmoving lips, were spoken within in the voices of others. Su-mi's melodic and childish voice spoke her joyful inner happiness. Shinku's wavering tone represented the hesitation that worried her nerves. Everything else, however, was reserved for Iljian. Though at first she mentally corrected his lisp when she thought in his voice, as it further endeared him to her, she decided that there was, in fact, nothing to correct at all.


He had run after her, she thought again, kicking a stone into the water off the docks to distort her reflection. "See?" Jun-sama had demanded of her, seeming to want so badly for her to agree; "He shrugs carelessly but he still chased you." It had not meant as much as she thought then, certainly; there was no reason to think that he liked or disliked her more than any other foundling slowly cleaning themselves up while roaming the streets of Trinsic. It was not as meaningful as she dared to hope.

But oh, how she hoped.

There was no seedy romantic undertone in what had become a budding devotion and dependance. Fate didn't make her cling to him, search the streets constantly for him. A desperate wish to be understood drove her during each maddening hour after she'd escaped her kin. Slowly, with every sign Iljian learned - and he seemed to be learning so quickly - she was claiming him as her medium. There would be no need to write when she finally achieved that with him.

It was frustrating to be functionally thoughtless, pulled back to her duties by the people that looked so like her, called forward by the promise that a man who seemed to have only the faintest interest in her could be the one she needed most. Constantly escaping her would-be home to find her place in Trinsic, she seemed only to grate on everyone's nerves.

All she had were her numerous letters, carefully penned and never delivered.

Written word seemed to have no depth, no breadth; how could she imply hesitation when she could write only "No"? How could she imply the inkling of distrust when it was always as simple as shaking or nodding her head? How could she tell a man that chased after her that everything would be alright, that she would always come back to him, when her hands trembled with the effort and Jun looked over her shoulder constantly? How could she write the words and risk that he would simply not care all that much in the first place?

The place that her people had claimed as their home was so undoubtedly beautiful, so seemingly endless, foreign and dangerous, that she felt constantly drawn in by the wish to belong with them though she had not belonged with her own family. But on that night, with Jun's stinging comments too fresh on her mind for her to sleep in the same building as he slept, she had nowhere to go but the only place she could feel safe from their reaching grasps. Only the hospital in Trinsic held such safety. Its large open window that stared to the West let in a cool breeze, thoughtlessly left open for the lack of hospital patients. She wouldn't be the one to draw the curtains.


Desperate, Setsu tried to keep only Su-mi's hopeful comment in mind, said quietly in her head in Iljian's warm voice: "Give him time, Setsu-chan. Sensei will see why the gaijin is so important to you." She descended the stairs after giving the dark room her attention and deciding which of its thankfully empty hospital beds would be usurped by her for the night.

Shunsaki

He had a vision.

Shunsaki watches his emerging village from the safety of his own chamber as a finger trails down his jaw line thoughtfully. It has not been since the days of the Kotodama and Bujin’Kai that a united front, made up of those of Japanese origin, has dared settle again in Britannia as a second home. Yet through the financial aid of Kazuo Shinrai, the vision now blends with reality.

However, as he admits even now, the new ‘arche’ does not yet portray or fully resemble the visions he has in his mind. There are, as of yet, no imported shipments of ore, let alone a legion capable of spreading their art of ninpo through demonstration of great numbers. Over the recent months, he had been able to influence a lot of matters to work towards this however, especially after uniting some of the most skillful assassins in the lands under one banner and no less important: by striking up a successful trade agreement with Stonekeep. Though, the only factor not subject to human interference would still be time, and growth needs that most of all. Deep down this realization comes as a nuisance to him, but that in turn is always quick to change into acceptance instead, as patience is as much a part of his craft as the crude act of snapping a bone.

Seemingly satisfied with the conservative approach in his mind, he stands up and closes the hatch of his window after casting a quick glance towards the temple where some light shimmers through from the first floor. Knowing it would be Su-Mi together with Setsu, he leaves that for what it is and takes a candle from his small desk to light a smaller one which he in turn sets down next to a tatami mat onto which he kneels. As he inhales the aroma of melting wax while softening his breathing to empty his mind, one thought does quickly enter his mind still.

The girl who does not talk, who he, like many others, encountered in Trinsic where she appeared bewildered and perhaps slightly lost were it not for the hospitality and kindness the city stands symbol for. It was not long before he offered her a place in the village, with genuine intentions too, as from the first moment his eyes met hers; it required no skilled investigator to determine she was no warrior. She showed hesitation, which came as a surprise to no one, but her youthful age might have been a factor in showing willingness to come along due to simple curiosity and a longing to be amongst her people again.

The girl who does not talk, but writes with equivocation, as upon her acceptance to take up residence within the village she remained ever so hesitant to shed a light on her history which to him seems a troubled one. Or even her relationship to the Trinsic detective, which appears to extend beyond mere tutorship; a relationship that could possibly threaten the sanctity and obscurity of the village should she eventually be torn between allegiances, but she assured him this would not be the case, and in a rare gesture, Shunsaki gave her his trust in this.

As, after all, she is one of his kin and he will greet his brethren and sisters with the kind of trust they do not receive from the indigenous people of Britannia.

Park Su-mi

Once upon a time on an island in the distant seas, a little girl named Soomi lived with her beautiful mommy. Mommy was very good to Soomi, she'd braid her hair and tie her little shoes and Mommy sewed the prettiest hanbok for fair Soomi to wear about the village. All the boys and girls of the village loved Mommy, she was the prettiest in all the world and she made the tastiest sweets; but Soomi loved her most. Soomi would run the fastest and study the hardest, determined to make her Mommy happy so that Mommy would love her too - and for many years she did.


Then one day the wicked troll came down to the tiny village. "I will have the mostest beautifullest maiden of all the clan!" he roared. The children were all afraid of the wicked troll, but Mommy made a deal, she would show the beastly creature her most precious secret and in return he'd leave!


But cunning Mommy was tricked! The mean old troll he stayed and he was not so kind to Soomi, he took her sweets and took her dolls and he threw them all away! Soomi was very sad and went to cry for Mommy; but evil troll had cast his most powerful spell and now he had surely won! For Mommy had gotten round and slow and full of pain and she was too tired to braid pretty Soomi's hair and sew her dainty clothes.


That's when little Jin-hie, the bravest little warrior of all the village children, came and spoke to Soomi. She whispered in her ear and told her what to do. The wicked troll had put a cursed soul inside Mommy to make her weak, to make her his - the soul it had to go! Little Jin-hie gave the magic wand to Soomi "wave it 'pon your Mommy when her and troll they sleep, the soul you can remove from her and then your Mommy keep!"

Soomi set about her task when the moon came to rise. She slipped into the chamber of her Mommy and the troll and with silent steps across the room she climbed onto their bed. She closed her eyes and said her prayer and waved the magic wand over top the sleeping pair! The spell was short but potent. The spirits cast their crimson tide across the room to bless little Soomi's work, the wicked troll howled and howled and was defeated and the pain in Mommy belly soon, soon stopped!


Little Soomi skipped off to Jin-hie, but Jin-hie had long gone. All she left were the words that rang in Soomi's mind, the promise she had made.

__________________

Setsu

"Put Su-mi on the ground."

The order was simple enough, Setsu decided, because she categorically separated tasks into the Possible and the Not Possible. Because the task was Not Possible, she would not chastise herself overly for her failure. Jun probably would not either. He seemed a surprisingly gentle teacher considering the deference she gave him.

As for Su-mi, she was already lying on the sandy beach, having watched with amusement as Jun and Setsu each tried to throw the other's balance off. The girls exchanged a smile, hoping that would suffice, but Jun did not share their amsuement. "Ah. But I specifically said that Setsu-san must put you there."

"I was already there while I watched!" Su-mi defended quickly, rising to her feet. A hand moved to the end of a cane on her belt that Setsu knew would reveal a dangerous bladed weapon.

"You have one minute," Jun informed, standing aside and watching them.

Her heart fluttered. And so they were off.

Setsu, determined to succeed, started toward Su-mi without hesitation, not even pausing when the flash of steel betrayed that Su-mi would turn the weapon on her. As taught, she pressed her foot behind Su-mi's heel and gave a sharp push, knowing it would not be so easy. With her arms up, Su-mi intended to take her weakness, pulling the weapon out swiftly and swinging it for Setsu's shoulder.

The day's training was fresh on the teen's mind, however. The blade was not wooden like the practice one had been, startling her and forcing a more fluid response as she ducked aside, catching Su-mi's wrist and pulling her somewhat off-balance before beginning to twist viciously. Su-mi held the weapon as though her life depended on it. At the very least, her pride did. She would not be taken by a first-day student so quickly.

The dextrous girl brought her knee up inaffectively, trying to shake Setsu, who continued a strong but ill-practiced bid for Su-mi's weapon, trying to turn her arm enough to make her drop it. Both arms there, she didn't have time to stop Su-mi from slamming her forehead toward Setsu's nose; the only thing that saved her was Setsu's flinching tendencies, letting her catch the hit with her cheek, which made her almost cry out. The pain raced through her face, making her eye feel close to exploding.

That was the position they were in when Jun ordered them to stop. That was the position Setsu both had no confidence in and no willingness to leave. Staying left her face all too close to the volatile Su-mi. Leaving released the weapon. Setsu cast a glance toward Jun, seeming to expect the blow; whether he did or not, he left her to her own devices for it, offering no safety from Su-mi.

"Time is up. Stop," he commanded again.

With no other choice, Setsu released the girl's wrist and tried to move away.

She wasn't fast enough to stop Su-mi from backhanding her hard enough that she was thrown to the ground, grabbing for her already swelling cheek. Jun stopped another attack by grabbing her as Setsu watched in horror, the changed youth going so far as to almost hit Jun himself. Frightened, she inched backward on the sandy beach, clutching her cheek and endlessly thankful for Jun's interference. "Baka yaro," he muttered, and waved his favorite student away dismissively. The anger would dissipate. Setsu would not be permitted to hold grudges. She rose to her feet, thoroughly shaken by the attack, and bowed slightly, ignoring the throbbing pain in her cheek.

"The ferocity was impressive. I did not expect you to last ten seconds. Your balance is not nearly as bad as I thought. Do as I said and practice your wrist locks."

Crushed, Setsu bowed. That was it; with that said, he left her behind. More and more, she hung on his every word and began to feel pressure to perform, to pursue. In surpassing his expectations, she had succeeded; in allowing him to have low expectations, she had failed.

Perhaps she had a warrior's heart after all.

Shunsaki

What an odd evening.

Where other towns had greeted our 'disguise' attempts by either not noticing at all or even subtly investigating it, the city of peace found itself taking an aggressive stance on this by jailing one of our own men; hiding behind a paper tree.

Perhaps it was the sheer shock of Trinsic finally getting a visitor, or the gaijin Iljian wanted to put his botanic skills to the test. I think we should from here forth just refer to him as Iljian Scissorhands.

It was not until Setsu notified me of this however, as she earlier tried to mediate, that I became aware of Shinzaki's state of captivity.


After rallying a solid force of dokoro with a few juunin watching close by, curious as to what was going on, we proceeded towards Trinsic unseen. Of course, one would expect that the lone guard present there would disrupt the 'unseen' part somewhat, so we disposed of him quickly; grabbed for the keys and secured the jail for the time being so we could release our Mizu Dokoro from his cell.

Park Su-mi

Alice came to a fork in the road. "Which road do I take?" she asked.
"Where do you want to go?" responded the Cheshire cat.
"I don't know," Alice answered.
"Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."



The headaches were getting worse.


She lay on her bedroll and listened to the faint ring of chimes, idly clinking in the breeze below; head cradled in her own, tender arms. She barely remembered the concern on their faces or the scent of tea, Park Su-mi, struggling with self inflicted agony. It had been days, weeks, since she had begun to come to grips with herself and the process was draining. Not a creature of calm and moderation, the still of Koga-jima brought about a challenge to the young shinobi that was starting to leave it's mark.

A torrent of wrongness gripped her, a furious sensation that swept from her mind to her heart to her limbs; supple, dainty digits bluntly clawing at her temples in an angsty bid to pry the treacherous feelings from her troubled head. She shared this mind with others.

Long had an endless sense of freedom been Su-mi's refuge as she skitted from town to town, bubbling and brewing with a brilliant blend of morbid mischief, ensconced in her own mad world, where she was queen. The fractured fabric of her warped persona made a patchwork mess of people and in her whirling chaos she had found an odd stability. Koga-jima had pulled it apart.

Responsibility. Thrust upon her by a wily teacher with a mind so far from her own. A calm and philosophical soul, a champion of his self and a master of rigid discipline. It infuriated Park Su-mi. She groaned again and turned the other way, curling her tiny toes and tensing her fingertips - wishing for all her worth they would bore through her skull to the throbbing inside.

Not known for the span of her attentions, Su-mi struggled for focus in the school of a village. Charged to pass on her wiles and wits and to lecture in ninpo and Shunsaki-Ryu, she strained and strained, fought herself to best him, to prove that she could be the bastion of sanity that 'sensei' was. For hours she would meditate, wrestling with the fractured pieces of her will to force her mind together. And in the time between the aches, she would teach. She would be shinobi. And when the village slept she'd lay and clutch her mind and wish for the pain to cease.

This was the road she would take. The road, for now. To live with the people she'd sworn to hate, to teach their ways and to be as them, to be Zainichi. If the pain could pass and the mind could heal, she would be Su-mi, shinobi of the Kogajin.




And if not? She moaned and shut her eyes.

__________________

Shunsaki

*a chronological collage*