Completed A Resurrection of Emeralds

[Jirou]

The sweat from Jirou's brow felt magma against his skin. This wayward town he'd found proved to be nothing short of a death sentence. The men that pursued him bore nothing of familiarity to the young ronin, as he couldn't fathom any reason one would want his head.

Unless.

That made no sense though. The assassins he'd fled from years back had been eradicated. His informant was trustworthy. Though deception runs deeper than blood in most cases.

Civilians who had clearly never seen much combat screamed in horror as Jirou was forced to cut down a man who attacked him. His body left in a heap next to an arm severed from the elbow down. With this moment going swiftly awry Jirou turned tail but kept his blade out as some of these brigands were faster than others. They kept on him tightly but unable to land another blow. As they turned through alleyways he was headed towards an area that had a great deal of people and had to get everyone from his path.

"MOVE IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN UNINVOLVED." He cried out desperately in hopes for those remaining to stand aside so their battle caused no casualties. His fear was anyone else involved. His own death did not concern him half as much.

As the crowd pushed back just far enough so they could witness with some morbid fascination, he found himself in what felt like an arena of people. Nine of which walked towards him with weapons drawn and intent to kill. Nine. He could handle crowds, but not when others were close enough to face death as well. He was not sure what he was going to do.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."
-Helen Keller​

Another typical journey of wandering aimlessly to one end of the continent...and like every other day, this one was to be fraut with violence....

It might have really started with all the people...moving...away in the town in a rather...hurried manner, as if they were trying to avoid somthing. Might have been a red flag...had he thought more about it...had his mind hadn't been crowded with other thoughts...but he didn't...thus he had continued to make his way towards the town...

But as the red haired man approached, the sound of weapons clashing began to fill his ears...familiar noise that soon explained all there was to know: There was a fight.

Perhaps another would have immediately tried to avoid the town...or prepare themselves in case of trouble...but him? His eyes were on the ground, a concentrated look. He didn't seem faced by the revelation, it was as if he wasn't thinking of the potential dangers at all!

So he continued into town, as aloof as he was...though it was hard for anything to really criticize, when he had such a concentrated look on his face.

It was only until he reached the crowed did he stop; the commotion and crowed had blocked the main path through the town, and now swordsmen was starring into the backs of those onlookers. From his point of view, the robbed man could hardly see what was going on. Occasionally he'd catch a glimpse of some fast past movements through the cracks within the people, while other times he'd hear the echo of weapons meeting.

A sigh escaped his lips as he crossed his hands, and closed his eyes...waiting for whatever it was that was going on to end.

It didn't.

Something happened, weather a brigand was shoved back or what have you, but it caused one side of the crowed to quickly back off. The red haired stood his ground as the people pushed back all around him, until he was the only one standing out among the crowed, now also in the mini "arena"....he opened his eyes, seeing the poor excuse of a sap on the ground...before looking up.

The red haired man said nothing...he looked and dressed not to similar to the target in the middle...but instead, he had an eyebrow raised.

It would have been easy for one of the brigands to mistake his association...

 

[Jirou]

As Jirou stepped backwards with his blade in one hand and sheathe in the other he noticed swiftly that a man dressed similarly to him was now exuding from the pushed back crowd. As the nine approached him further he looked onward to the robed man with eyes that showed worry.

"This is not your fight, I do not expect you to aid me in this," He nodded towards the mans blade. He could tell that this red haired warrior was not unfamiliar with situations like these, yet even so he didn't want any bystanders to become injured due to his own carelessness. His eyes peeled from Touma and back towards the impeding threat.

While he looked composed, any warrior could see what his sweat meant. Fear. He may have been skilled in combat against many enemies there was something about this situation that had his face saying 'I don't want this'.

Jirou stepped forward and assumed stance. Blood was to be shed. The warrior beside him would make the decision himself if it was worth his time, but Jirou had no escaping this moment.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

The red haired man exhaled, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes.

The scene in front of him was one he had seen many times...it was almost a universal thing among people with such traits, weather it be back at the homeland or here. The manner to which they stood alone against the odds...it may have been worthy for some to call it "heroism".

It was an admirable trait...but one that the robed man felt at times a bit tedious.

Instead of backing off or anything close, the bladesmen instead took a step forward, stepping over one of the 9 on the ground. He would approach Jirou at a steady rhythm, eyes slowly opening with each step. But he was not looking at Jirou, instead it was as if he looked past him.

The swordsmen had heard Jirou loud and clear...but he had been in such scenarios to know when someone was in trouble.

The red haired man would approach Jirou despite the armed men surrounding them...despite the looks they gave him...he continued to stare forth into nothing, as his hands came undone...one fell to the side, while the other fell on top of his blade. The man would continue to pace forward, until he walked up next to Jirou...still looking forward, but standing shoulder to shoulder facing the direction he had approached.

"There now stands two..." The red haired man spoke, his voice echoing through the town and causing those watching to gasp a little. His thumb slide his blade forward an inch. "...We're giving you one and only one chance to leave with your life intact...or what will come will be of your doing...so don't pin the blame on us in the afterlife..."

Had Jirou looked over, he'd have a hard time telling what the ronin next to him was feeling; his eyes were now covered up by his bangs....

 

[Jirou]

Jirou's eyes peeked backwards ever so slightly as the ronin stood shoulder to shoulder with another. As the red haired warrior spoke to the crowd of hired swords, it was inescapable for him to let a small grin come across his face. This scenario in its entirety is one shared by many who dawn a blade. The reason can always vary. Revenge, rage, or even something as trivial as genuine dislike. Though anyone who wasn't a fool knew exactly how these situations went. With another warrior of extreme caliber at Jirou's side their victory was nothing short of concrete.

However the men paid to kill Jirou, were definite fools.

One larger man staring at Jirou even had the nerve to bark at him.

"You'll never escape your fate, Orchid!"

There it was. The confirmation he was waiting for. His long dead alias had been spoken to him again. One this man had quite the nerve to say to Jirou.

"You haven't the right to speak to me with that title." The ronin barked back, and lowered his shoulders. This was paid no mind by the man who hunted him, as he bull charged straight at Jirou, and his lackeys followed.

"So be it." Spoke the ronin softly.

As his attacker closed in on him he caught the blade swung at him with his sheathe. Jirou's sword rended the man upward from his pectoral to his shoulder relieving the man of his arm. As more were approaching at high speed he kicked his defeated enemy to the ground and matched blades with two pursuers at once.
He could only hope that his newfound ally was as skilled as he looked.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

Spoiler: Theme Music

His eyes...were a shade of red that compared more to the infernal of a blazing fire then anything else...like before, it was hard to tell what the man was thinking through his hair...all anyone could really see were those strands of air.

Well...all except those nine whom stood in front of him...all they'd be able to see of his face were hair and the crimson red eyes, starring as if they were trying to burn into their soul.

When one of the nine men spoke, it was as if he just hammered in the last nail into their coffin...As the red haired man raised his weapon higher from his belt...taking the other hand and placing it onto the grip...not changing his relaxed posture.

It was thus, the moment these nine launched into a coordinate assault, the red haired ronin was ready to receive. Turning at such a freighting speed, he drew his weapon into his first attacker, smashing through the polearm he carried and carved into his chest. Wasting nothing more then a breath, the bladesmen released his scabbard and reached to grip his blade with both hands, before bring it down the same parallel arc with such discipline...right into the secound fighter not to far behind the first. Both assailants remained upright for a moment, with the shock of their wounds overcoming their senses, before abruptly collapsing.

Meanwhile the bladesmen maintained his posture, as he brought his saber across his scabbard, before quickly sheathing it.

Three down, six to go.

The four other assailant, initially charging in waves, suddenly hesitated momentarily upon seeing fiirst hand the type of violence this newcomer was capable of. It was a testament to their nerves, however, that they were able to recover as fast as they did.

"Go after the target!" One of them shouted, as the two closest to Jirou snapped their attention at the young ronin, before charging to help their comrades.

This did not go unnoticed by the red ronin, as his eyes became visible, they were trailing after the two whom attempted to link up with their fighting comrades. In another great burst of speed, the fellow sprinted towards those particular brigands. As he was about to reach them, he shot his feet forward into somthing of a slide, launching his foot at the feet of the brigands.

The low kick was able to catch one of the brigands, tripping up and causing his face to plummet into the ground. The other was much more nimble, as he leaped over the the bladesmen's kick and landed a bit behind the red ronin. But instead of engaging him, the one still upright went after Jirou.

The swordsmen watched assassin sprint, he might have even chased after him...if his attention was not brought back to those in-front of him. The one that had been tripped up was now getting back to his feet, reinforced by the other two brigands. Yet standing in the way of their target was this red headed interloper, whom had moved to face them with one hand gripping his scabbard and the other hovering close to the grip.

It was now an even load for both parties; three assailants for Jirou, three for the red headed stranger....

 

[Jirou]

The crashing sound of death was loud in the air. Even the most observant of bystanders finally began to back away when the red headed swordsman by his side killed off several of his attackers. A warrior helping a warrior. It was a warmth he'd almost forgotten.

His blade held back two other swords that went at him in full force. With this, Jirou stepped to the side and released the tension of clashing weapons. Both of his assailants fell forward due to their reckless abandon. His feet quickly turned back to face his front and one of the falling brigands fell square into the tip of the ronin's blade, piercing his stomach all the way to the hilt.

He withdrew the sword from the corpse's stomach and swung his blade towards the ground clearing it off the blood that defiled it. He turned to face the other who had fallen to realize he had collided with another who'd attempted to catch Jirou off guard.

"I'm losing my touch." He thought to himself and scowled. He had not heard the nimble man leap from Touma to himself and he was disappointed in his lack of spacial awareness. Even with clouded thoughts a warrior should be able to face any threat with confidence and guile. This was a topic he was unprepared to face again.

He sheathed his sword and watched as the two collected themselves and thrust at him. It almost looked as if Jirou was going to give them his life out of disgrace, but quite the opposite. As one approached closer the ronin reached into his kimono fold and smirked.

In an instant, his hand was thrown from the fold and a chain wrapped around the neck of the closest brigand. His neck was snapped with a turn of Jirou's wrist. As this happened it took the other brigand aback and he made the fool's errand of taking his eyes off of his target, but did not cease his march. Jirou stomped on a the hilt of a sword fallen to the ground and it sprung straight up into the last of the three's chin. It did not kill him but left him incapable of proceeding.

Jirou slowly unfolded the chain wrapped around the corpse's neck and walked toward the final brigand he had fought. He removed the sword from the poor sap's chin and punched him square in the throat with a piece of his chain wrapped around his fist. This incapacitated the swordsman entirely but left him unconscious rather than dead. He needed to interrogate at least one.

He then fixated his eyes on the work of the red headed samurai before him. This man had showed more practice and prowess than Jirou had and to him, it was truly beauty.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

While the commotion went on behind him, the one that was suppose to happen in front of him came to a stand still. As the swordsmen held his lowered posture, the three brigands looked to one another, silently agreeing to attack at once.

And so they did, sprinting forward at once while yelling at the top of their lungs. Yet even as they advanced, the bladesmen held his position...not even flinching when they did charge....even when the drew their blades back and swung them at his head.

It was a split second's reaction, but the hand that had been hovering over the grip reached down to grab. Meanwhile, the red haired ronin had begun moving, taking a few steps forward as he slid his blade out of it's scabbard. The weapon came shooting out of the scabbard, but it led by the butt of it's grip, slamming into the stomach of the assailant right in front of the ronin and staggered him. With his free arm, he brought it up to the back of his blade, bringing it up in-time to deflect one of the blows coming in from the left. Using the momentum he had built up, the swordsmen then swung his saber to teh right in time to block

Now it was time to retaliate, as the bladesmen crested the arc that his sword traveled, cutting through the last man to swing at him. Quickly reversing direction, the blade was now traveling upwards, meeting the blade of the first assailant with a cling. Grabbing the grip quickly with both hands, he would proceed to bring the blade down in a concentrated strike. As the men fell, the red headed ronin brought his sword up horizontally to once more parry the incoming attack, parrying again as the last man standing swung fiercely at him.

This barrage would continue with some form of reckless abandon on the brigand's part, as the man desperately continued to hammer his weapon in. But he was developing somthing akin to an unconscious habit...somthing the red headed swordsmen would take advantage of...suddenly side stepping a blow, allowing the man to swing forward into the ground. But the swordsmen was ready to receive, and with one fluid motion brought his blade to the side with one hand and then proceeded to cut horizontally. It happened so fast and so swiftly, the onlookers couldn't even tell the ronin had even cut the man...at least, had the brigand not fall to the ground, bleeding from the stomach like the rest of his compatriots.

The fight had ended as fast as it started...as the red headed stranger exhaled...relaxing his muscles as he starred down at the dying body.

What a pain...

Another swift motion and the blade was now resting across the stranger's scabbard, as the swordsmen slide his weapon across the entrance, before slowly sheathing the blade. Once more, it was difficult to tell what the man thought; his eyes were still covered by his bangs...despite the action of the recent fight.

It took a moment, but soon the bladesmen had lifted his gaze...one eye peering through his bangs and at Jirou...or rather, the unconscious man on the ground...then Jirou.

He said nothing at first...a hand gripping onto his sheathed sword...but began nodding at him...

"You caused quite a lot of commotion today..."

 

[Jirou]

Jirou knelt down and lifted the man he'd left bloodied but breathing. With one arm he slung the brigand over his shoulder and surveyed the crowd. Many people had taken their leave but some seem more curious as to what was to take place in the aftermath. He looked onward to the red headed warrior and gave him a nod of true recognition, one swordsman to another.

"It seems that I have. As to who led me to cause such issues will be answered via this man's mouth. Though I don't wish to interrogate a man in under the guise of the general public. I'm sure it'll be no time before the authorities arrive. I'm to flee outside of this towns gates and speak to my captive in the grasslands, where he can't run from me."

He turned his back to leave and cocked his head back towards Touma.

"Thank you, by the way. You didn't need to help me and you did. I have but two questions.
Who are you? And what do you plan to do now?" Jirou's voice took it's normal tone of softness. He seemed almost a completely different person than the one he'd just displayed. As if all hostility had left his body.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

The red headed stranger looked on at Jirou, tilting his head slightly and allowing his bangs to fall over his face...but through the loose strands, one could still easily spot his crimson red eyes.

"Touma...Wakasugi Touma..." The red ronin called out, his hands remained on the larger blade on his hip, as he gave a slight bow with his introduction. Touma certainly seemed to have more in common with Jirou then anyone around in the town...least compare to the brigands whom assaulted them. "...I'm assuming you have a name as well?"

Whether Jirou gave his name or not, Touma didn't seem much too concerned. Though it would have certainly made addressing his current acquaintance-by-arms easier.

"As for where I go..." The swordsmen said, slowly sauntering over to where Jirou and the unconscious man were, stopping short a mere few feet away. "...I have no destination...I have no mission...no master to serve...the only thing that I do know..."

He pointed with the butt of his saber in the direction Jirou faced...as the wind picked up around the two...

"...the wind blows in that direction...and so do I...."

 

[Jirou]

He shifted the man on his shoulder to sit more properly on him. He smirked a little while turning to face the way he was headed yet again. A man with a sword shrouded in mystery, huh? Sounded familiar to Jirou. He wondered just how much they actually had in common. If the man he shared a battlefield with today experienced anything to what Jirou had he couldn't blame the man for speaking so ominously. The look he'd seen on Touma's face was something he remembered not so fondly.

"It is a pleasure, Wakasugi Touma. I am Jirou. I have no family name." He spoke plainly. "If you're to follow the same path as I, know you may only involve yourself with more trouble. If this is what I think it to be then all that leads this way is Hell." He began walking away before the authorities could arrive. Though he didn't look back he would certainly know if Touma chose to come with.

As he exited the city he found a tree about a half mile beyond the gates. He laid the man against the tree and removed some rope from his sack and tied him around the tree by his midsection. When he awoke, he'd have no other option but to answer Jirou's questions.

He took a seat and pulled out a bottle of sake and two small glasses, for if Touma was to arrive as well, it would be rude to not offer his temporary ally a drink.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"Do I look like a man that is concerned with Hell?" The ronin stated simply, the grip on his katana never faltering for a moment. There was somthing of his demeanor that were quite fitting to his words; a man who didn't even see the word "trouble" as an inconvenience.

It appeared all to simple that he would advance down the path he had set...it had been the path that he had already walked, what was going to sway him otherwise? Certainly not these jokers on the floor...he had already proven otherwise...

Touma said nothing more as he watched Jirou carry the man out of the town...before proceeding to follow the particular ronin out of town at a respectable distance.

They would indeed travel a distance away from the town before his fellow ronin would stop, tying his captive to the try as Touma looked on from the road. The red headed ronin began wandering what Jirou was planning to do, tilting his head again in wonder. Perhaps he was going to interrogate him? He could only hope that was his only intentions...but then again, Jirou was a mere acquaintance at best...

Upon seeing the sake, the red headed ronin turned...folding his arms again as he watched Jirou set things up. The swordsmen did not approach...thinking Jirou was laying the items out for the prisoner.

"Are you planning to have a drink with your assailant?" Wouldn't be the first time Touma had seen such a thing...from a man that he thought better of then himself...

 

[Jirou]

Jirou felt Touma's presence before he spoke to him. Though he'd told him he'd follow, they barely knew each other. It was still hard to say which parts of them they could trust about one another. He lifted the sake bottle and poured it into one glass setting it down. He poured the second glass but raised it above his head.

"I hardly think our friend here is deserving a drink, wouldn't you say?" He looked back at Touma with a smile. "I was thinking we could share one, if you partake."

He would wait for Touma's response, and all the while he could see the mercenary starting to come to. Jirou walked next to the man after taking a sip of his drink and peered down over him.

"It is time for you to wake up. You have questions to answer." He spoke sternly.

The mercenary arose and looked upward at Jirou. He tried to move and quickly realized the predicament he was in. At the ronin's question he scoffed.

"What? Y'plannin' to pay for some information? You better just kill me." Jirou unsheathed his sword and cut across the mercenary's face. After his yelp from the pain Jirou lowered his face to his.

"I am not above that, but I need you to speak first. Who sent you?"

The mercenary cackled. "An old friend of yours, actually. Someone you thought long dead actually." He looked up from his injured state far too happy.

"The emeralds have been resurrected, Orchid. How wonderful is that?"

Jirou sat there stunned as his grip tightened around his hilt. His whole body was shaking. He looked terrified.

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

Touma raised an eyebrow, as his eyes gazed over the man that stood in front of him. Offering a alcohol? Sake no less...it had been quite sometime since a warrior of similar repute had offered such a rite....though maybe it was less of a deal to him

Regardless, it would have been rude for Touma to simply deny. Instead of immediately taking to the alcohol, Touma decided to give pause, watching as Jirou turned around to speak with the captive. It was only when the other ronin turned, did Touma move, quietly sauntering over and picking up the filled cup.

The bladesmen certainly had a steady hand, though it required quite a bit of concentration. Fact of the matter was, the swordsmen was barely listening to the conversation, instead peering into the clear liquid. It had been so long since he had some good sake...wonder if this particular glass was any good.

It was only when the mercenary began cackling, did Touma finally decide to take interest. Turning his gaze, Touma saw the man who's comrades had been cut down in mere minutes laughing as if he had already triumphed. This usually meant that things were far from over...what a pain.

"What's all this then?" Touma said, walking up next to Jirou, cup still in hand as he gazed down upon the bounded mercenary. The swordsmen was not impressed, to say the least. "You get anything out of his babbling?"

 

[Jirou]

The ronin took a lot longer than he should have to digest what Touma had said to him. The look on his face was a mixture of utter and confusion and boundless fear. As if he was reliving trauma of some sort. When Jirou snapped to and looked at Touma abruptly, his next decisions seemed to be a bit off. He slashed the rope binding the man and the mercenary wasted no time fleeing into the barren grassland before them. He'd heard all he needed to, the brigand was of no threat to him either.

"Ueno Taichi" He said the name with such a disdain that its tension nearly cut the air. The grip around his hilt was almost strong enough to shatter the whole sword. Jirou looked as if he'd seen into the eyes of the devil.

He let out a strong sigh and the tension released. He sheathed his blade and turned to face Touma with his eyes closed.

"Emerald Kiss. A group of shinobi who worked solely for a Shogun named Ueno Taichi. A man who I thought to be long dead, as well as the group associated." He walked passed Touma and took a seat in the grass again, pouring himself another glass of sake. It was clear that this ronin did not find the drink to be sacred. It was growing difficult to tell what exactly it was he cherished.

"The shinobi who worked for his shogunate were vile people. Children, women pregnant, torture. They were misogynistic and they weren't above even..." He shook and shattered the glass full of sake in his hand. "They robbed many of their lives and many more of their security and innocence." He picked the glass pieces from his hand.

"I was a part of this group from childbirth to my young adulthood. I was a child soldier who was brainwashed into thinking what I was doing was just. However, an ability I later discovered of myself helped break me of my conditioning. Me and hers..." He began to bandage his hand. When finished he stood up and packed his thing, flinging his straw hat onto his head, looking as if he was prepared to travel and turned to Touma again.

"I deserted with another shinobi and they hunted us. They got to her, but could not stop me. Taichi was announced dead three years ago. As well as his troupe of criminals. However two of these mercenaries addressed me by 'Orchid', which was my alias for Emerald Kiss. Meaning that not only the information I received was false, but they intend to continue their hunt for me."

"Waksugi Touma, you have shown excellent prowess and discipline as a swordsman and have more than earned my respect. If you intend to follow the way the wind shifts, and should it lead you to any who bear a garb with a cracked emerald..." His eyes vanished beneath his hat.

"Show them no mercy."

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"Isn't that how the story always go?..." Touma grunted to himself, as he watched their assailant flee away from their position. The red haired ronin had his back turned to Jirou, even as the other walked past him. Touma wasn't really phased by what had been said. In fact, he seemed more indifferent then even remotely concern.

Former shinobi, huh? Hunted down by their former overlords? Seemed like somthing of a familiar sentiment...though Touma might have not said it, it was a matter that he could empathize with. Had his lord still been alive, the two might have not even had this conversation to begin with. But he was here, and this conversation was happening...for better or worse...

It was only after Jirou spoke about the Emerald Kiss, did the red haired ronin take his shot. Not that he every heard of the organization, or even this particular shogun, there was enough of a similarity that Touma had a relatively good idea what the other ronin was talking about.

All in all...such a pain to deal with it...

"That's very good and all friend...but..." The red haired ronin said, as he finally turned around. Looking into Jirou's eyes while maintaining a sense of indifference, all whilst holding onto the now empty cup. "...what of yourself?...After the display you've put on back there...I would be a bit more confident about your chances of survival...especially if that's the best they can send after you..."

Touma might have taken another shot...had he anything left in his cup...

 

[Jirou]

Jirou's breath and stance softened as Touma spoke to him. His company was one that reassured him of his ability. Due to how alike they were it certainly made the ex-shinobi feel a little less alone. He looked to the sky as the wind whistled next to them. Always an omen, never definite to how it would end. He shifted his equipment and exhaled deeply.

"I suppose you are correct about my stature in combat. My heart just isn't that of a killer anymore." He looked downward at his sword and his kusarigama that lay in his kimono. "I've always been a warrior. I'm just nothing like the one I was underneath the guise of the Emeralds. I was conditioned to kill without remorse with them. That being broken I wanted to be kind and escape that past. Even those who have the intent to take my life I feel for. They were just doing what put food on their table, and perhaps the tables of those they love. Did we kill fathers? Brothers? Lovers? Battle is one thing. Senseless violence is another."

He turned to look at Touma. "They killed the love of my life. I will never forgive Taichi for the deeds he committed. But this is far from what they are capable of. These were hired as a message. A reminder. To tell me that I was not safe. Those still clinging to Emerald Kiss will be infinitely more dangerous. There can't be many if the attack on their palace was enough to scatter them. Numbers however don't always matter as you and I both know. I will be walking into a den of wolves."

Jirou's eyes then shifted to the tree they stood beside. They were drawn by the presence of two bird shaped yokai watching him. It'd been a while since he'd seen a spirit via his medium tendencies. He whistled towards them and watched as the ghost fauna flew away into the sun.

"My softened heart is what makes me afraid. That I won't have the tendencies I used to to succeed against them."

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

Touma wasn't much of a drinker, but he really could use another cup of sake right now.

"They knew the risk when they drew their blades...we all do..." Touma said, turning to the side as he lifted his cup, observing the bottom of the cup with the same sense of indifference as he had gazed at Jirou a moment before. "...to expect that their enemies would automatically be merciful is a bad joke at best...disillusion at worst...as the defenders, we do not have any obligations to keep them alive..."

To kill and be killed, that was the natural cycle of the warrior. There was no two ways about it...the profession of death was never an easy matter on the consciousness for the sane...those whom were good at it never let the lives of their opponents enter their minds...else, they would never pick up a blade again....

"...But that does not mean we do not have a choice..."

The sound of a cup dropping was muffled by the ground, followed by the noise of a steel blade being drawn. Touma had his blade out, that was certain, examining the blade of it without a word...smoothing his hands along it...had Jirou been observant enough, he'd realized that the blade did not cut; for it was the reverse end of the weapon...the end that seldom was used by most...but a side that Touma was content on examining.

"...a soft heart is not what makes one weak...a soft resolve is what will prevent one from succeeding..." It was as if he knew, knew too well in fact. Closing his eyes, the ronin continued to speak his mind. "...at one point, many men had feared to walk into the den of wolves...feared of getting eaten...fear of having to fight...until one day a man...not unlike you or me...with a soft heart and strong resolve...walked into that den of wolves...not only did he walk out...but he walked out with companions by his side..."

It was a mere fairly tale parents told their children, one of those stories that weren't thought about much below surface level. But it was what Touma was reminded of...as he opened his eyes, starring at the bluntness of the reversed blade.

"The question is not about what you used to be...but ask yourself..." Taking his blade, he pointed the butt of the weapon at Jirou. His crimson eyes shifted, meeting those of Jirou's. "...what is it you want?...What is it you will be?...What manners your willing to endure?...What lengths you will go?...To kill the man of your past...or to live as you are now..."

 

[Jirou]

Jirou felt the wind shift as Touma spoke with him. The weight the words of his fellow ronin carried was not to be ignored. He spoke with such truth and it touched the exorcist a bit. Warrior to warrior conversations were not always pleasant. They were actually rarely so. Despite the daunting tasks in front of him Jirou was happy to experience this day. He knew Touma was right about the men he'd killed. They'd made their beds. He just always hated being the one to show them to it. Even if it was what was bound to happen.

He looked across the reversed blade that Touma presented him with great admiration. He made great points about the path Jirou could walk now. The thing was... The decision was made in his mind already. Be it not for revenge for he or for Yuuna. Be it not for fear of his own life. But he knew, greater than anyone, what these men would do if left unabated. As much as the ronin wished that he could leave their stronghold with less enemies or even allies.

That was nothing short of an impossibility. Ueno Taichi; the man he'd worked for since birth; was ruthless unlike anyone he'd ever known. He would take and take and take until there was nothing that wasn't his. Jirou could not leave this unaddressed.

"You are a great deal wiser than I'd perceived, friend. I'm sure life has shown you things equally as grisly." He lifted his hat and gave a warm smile with closed eyes.

"With hearts that soften and resolve that becomes questioned, the same is true of the opposite. People harden in their years. Become numb and stuck in their ways. Unable to revert to any sort of humanity they may have had in years prior."

His smile widened. "Ueno Taichi is one of those men. And it is my belief that if he does not die, this continent as a whole will be set fire to."

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"He'll have to get in line..." The red headed ronin said calmly, as he lifted his katana outward, before sheathing it within the same breath. "...if I had learned anything about this continent...there are many that wish to see it burn...yesterday...today...and tomorrow..."

Touma had heard the stories in the taverns, weather that of great tyrants of yesterday or the madness/corruption(a trait so common in the human race) today. It came in many forms, it came in all forces. But ultimately counter-forces would arise; drowining out any ambition in a tidal wave of opposition. Same story, different world.

"In the end, I cannot tell you what path to walk...that is a decision you must make for yourself..." Touma continued, his hand on the blade and his eyes remaining as indifferent as every. "...you seem to know this man well...perhaps better then most around these parts...if he is as dangerous and connected as you say...he will no doubt try to haunt you for the rest of your life, as you know..."

Looking out into the field, Touma felt the wind blowing through his hair. Life was certainly a strange thing...sometimes, it just was such a pain...

"If your comfortable with dancing with the deadly shadows...what reason is there to bother? Others may rise to the challenge...but if you want to sleep soundly at night...there is but one options...to confront this man you claim to have no humanity...and do what must be done..."

 

[Jirou]

Years of time away from these shadows. A family's love he'd finally felt. A life of helping people. Something that would face pause for a considerable amount time if he went through with this. That being said his heart was not something that lied to him often, nor did his instinct. Taichi was a ruthless killer. Honor had fled that man some time ago. Touma was right again. Some other opposition would rise to the occasion and deal with him no matter how long it took.

But how long would it take? After the death of himself? After the death of thousands? He couldn't let that happen. Some invisible nagging that wouldn't let him stray. The image of Yuuna's death. Masahiko's spirit. The child he'd almost struck down under Taichi's orders. All of it flooded back in a flurry of memories.

"So then what of you? You've followed me this far. I can't tell if you quarrel with the idea of murdering a man you know nothing of or not, but you remain beside me. What compels you to do so? I have made my mind up about it. I will be the one who sees Ueno Taichi fall. Are you aiming to watch that happen?"

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"As I've said before..." Touma spoke, almost muttering his words as he remained stationary to where he stood. "...I go where the winds take me...if a man comes before me with his blade drawn, he may fall...if more come, then they fall too...and if this Taichi wishes to challenge me after all that...then we will see who is better at their craft..."

This fellow didn't really concern the red headed ronin, as it wasn't the first time he came across such a man. In fact, he appeared more confident at besting the tyrant then anything else. Perhaps a extension of the skills put on full display too long ago...those swords rested on his hips were definitely not for show.

"But after seeing what has happened today...I wouldn't put it past your friend to come after me...it seems the wind may shift my path once more...and I am condemned to these roads...if you request it, I've no reason not to answer the call...if for nothing else, it would be a change of pace to fight besides a like minded warrior..."

The bladesmen had referred to their style of fighting, as it was clear the two bolstered somthing of a unique combative style among this continent...

 

[Jirou]

Touma intrigued Jirou in this moment. They were both ronin who followed no master directly yet followed a call from their heart when it arose. His lack of fear of the Shogun was either a display of experience prior or overconfidence. Perhaps an amalgamation of both. The exorcist knew he'd been in a dark place alone against this army. The only way he was able to escape their clutches prior was due to the spirit of Masahiko. With him finally having found rest, Jirou was alone against them this time. Or so he thought.

The man Jirou had freed from the tree was not one he'd expect to go back to the Shogun. Failure with Taichi almost always meant death unless the circumstances were special. Would Taichi forgive him just for information on Jirou's whereabouts? Was he seriously that much of a threat to the Shogun?
"I don't expect many to come directly for your head, friend. Yet I can't be definite on any of the decision making Taichi yields aside from it being with heinous intent. If we follow the same stream of wind more will certainly come. To have you by my side would fill with me tremendous courage as well." He smiled warmly. He shifted his stance to the grassland before them. Knowing their travel had to start at some point.

"I suppose we've wasted enough time here. I can't speak on where we need to head for information but the city behind us will more than certainly put us up against the authority there if we linger. I suggest we continue to move. It probably wouldn't hurt to find some food, either."

 

[Wakasugi Touma]

"I've nothing better to do..." Touma said, shaking his head. Was it a challenge? Was it boredom? Was it a need to be rather altruistic in his behavior? Perhaps...but it was never so simple for a man such as Touma. Whatever reason he had fought, it was a manner a fight for tomorrow...even if it might mean he wouldn't be around to see it. "...if you are confident in your assessment then I shall accompany you myself to help see this new mission of yours through...perhaps then, you may have your closure..."

It was somthing that Touma genuinely hoped for Jirou, despite the two still being complete strangers. It was a matter that the red headed ronin had rooted for, as it was somthing that Touma could never achieve...at least, not in the short term.

"From here on out, I'd say my fate has been intertwine with yours...for the time being, at least..." The ronin nodded, as he looked back to the village they came from, before looking towards the opposite direction of the road. "If we follow the road, we oughta come across the next township...it shouldn't be more then a day's walk...we can regroup somewhere a bit secure and figure out our next move from there...I've already had some thoughts on how we oughta engage in this...mission, so to say...."

 

[Jirou]

Jirou laughed heartily at the reasoning behind Touma's journey. Not out of silliness or him thinking it trivial. More so Jirou laughed because it was becoming almost strange how much they themselves had in common. Perhaps that was a product of being a warrior of the east. Their similarity in combat and in motivation was no accident. He was beginning to believe that their entire meeting was meant to be. He started to make his way down the road and motioned for Touma to follow. Though that was unnecessary.

"No reason to wait around, then. Let us move while the sun still hangs high." He spoke softly to his for now partner.

While they walked Jirou looked back to Touma and asked in earnest; "So what is it you were thinking engagement wise? Is this something you've dealt with before. That is, the blades of assassins ever aimed at your throat?" Due to the similarities he'd previously thought of it was also not unheard of for warriors to carry the same burdens. He would find no surprise in learning that Touma has had his head hunted for in the past. His fellow ronins demeanor showed one who's endured great hardship, yet he did not know how much information he'd be able to get without rudely prying.