The Distortion

“So ultimately, the plan is to sneak into the banquet and kill this Nakamura?” Laith asked.

“In short, yes.” Tokugawa replied.

“And I believe you already arranged for that?”

“Yes, we shall infiltrate as a troupe of performers.”

Laith rubbed his chin. He was still apprehensive about the final detail mentioned by Daisuke. This conflict had nothing to do with him—or his brother—and he would have preferred not to get involved with foreign countries’ internal affairs. But, if he were to have an involvement in the raid to come, he would like it if he were at least on the good right of it.

“Tokugawa san, I know it’s none of my business but, are you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions by accusing him?” Laith voiced his concern.

“I fully understand your worries, Laith san. It is true that I do not have a definitive proof and I cannot procure it, not unless the man himself confesses. That is why this will fall entirely on your faith in me and I hope you will trust me, similar to how I trusted you.” Daisuke sounded fairly confident, despite the uncertainty of his claims.

Laith rubbed his chin. He couldn’t help but think that Daisuke was exaggerating whenever he was recounting the full story, especially the parts involving Shinji. To Laith, it sounded like Daisuke had an overly inflated image of the former Daimyo, which was understandable considering he was his lord. However, that bias could very well cloud his judgment and fill his mind with farfetched conspiracy theories. Laith gave Daisuke the benefit of the doubt throughout most of the tale up until the part where the fire of some deity came into play.

Still, Laith had no solid answer to riposte with. Despite the iffy details, at no point did Laith feel like Daisuke was trying to oversell his story by being dramatic or emotional. There wasn’t the slightest hint that the samurai was trying to trick them into believing him. He asked for a genuine showing of good faith, and Laith had no reason to decline.

Adam—on the other hand—had a different view on the matter altogether.

“I know it sucks if we fought on the wrong side of this, but you have to remember why we’re here, and it’s not to uphold justice. We have to be practical about this.” Adams whispered.

Laith glanced at his brother and nodded. He then looked back to Daisuke.

“Okay I know this will be a strange question but I would like an honest answer, Tokugawa san.” Laith locked eyes with the samurai. “Is this a suicide mission?”

Daisuke painted the situation as favorable for their side, which was rather hard to believe when everything pointed towards the opposite. The odds were not insurmountable, but they were definitely not in their favor. Laith was thinking of the bigger picture where Yamato was far from being their final stop, but rather the very beginning. Much like Daisuke, this was no trifle to them. To fall at this stage of the game…well, that would certainly be anticlimactic.

“I understand that it might seem like one—a limited group of people infiltrating a castle to kill its head figure would probably end terribly—but no. We are not planning on meeting our end in there.” Daisuke’s eyes reflected his unwavering confidence.

“Good.”

“Okay now that we’re mostly set, I believe we have someone to meet. Care to point us in his direction, Tokugawa san?” Adam asked.

“Practical as ever I see.” Tokugawa smiled. “Since you are eager to collaborate, let us not waste any more time and be on our way to meet your guide.”

“Meet our guide?” Adam asked.

“Yes. Apologies but I have another matter to attend to. Someone else will accompany you and show you the way.”

“And who might be that someone else?” Adam pushed back his glasses.

“A familiar face.”

Adam rolled his eyes as he instantly realized who their “guide” was.

I’m not sure how much of a guide he can be…

As they rose from the table, a kind and soothing voice interrupted them.

“Darling, you should let them finish their meal first.” Lady Tokugawa said with a threatening smile.

“Apologies Yuka, and to you too brothers. Take as much time as you need, I will be waiting in the veranda.” Daisuke didn’t dare object.

The Kacem brothers almost forgot their breakfast was interrupted by the heated conversation. It was mainly Laith who resumed eating; Adam had lost most of his appetite. Now that a path had cleared itself to them, not much else was on his mind other than thinking of ways to proceed and get to the seal fragment in Kensei’s possession.

The armistice had definitely caught Adam off guard, but the raid on Kensei’s castle compensated for that inconvenience. All that was left was to successfully execute the raid and snatch the precious item. His brother would end up doing most of the dirty work himself, which is why Adam had to lay out the plan with the highest success rate. That was his job, his responsibility, in this partnership.

“Alright, I’m good to go.” Laith said, strapping his scimitar in his belt.

“Do you really need that?” Adam asked, eying his brother’s weapon.

“You never know.”

“What I do know is that it’ll bring unneeded attention to us, as if we don’t have enough of that already. Not to mention foiling lady Tokugawa’s efforts.”

Laith cocked his head with a confused look. He failed to see lady Tokugawa walking behind him, holding two sets of traditional clothing in her arms.

“My husband asked me to prepare these clothes for you. He would like it if you wore them instead of your regular outfits, should you not mind of course.” she handed each one a set.

“No, not at all, he makes a good point. Even if our faces will always betray us, the clothes will help. It would be nice if people stopped staring at us for a while, considering we are trying to blend in.” Adam seconded.

Laith’s new crimson outfit consisted of the “kosode” and “hakama” combination, meanwhile Adam donned a majestic yellow—of a faint tinge—kimono.

“Huh, that kimono does fit a regal pretentious asshole like yourself.”

Adam ignored him.

They promptly joined Dasiuke at the entrance of the house and headed towards their destination. The latter clarified some additional details as they walked the streets of the massive capital—the scenery changed a good number of times. He needed them to pay a visit to the dojo of a fellow sensei to introduce themselves and tell their story. This samurai was particularly important since he was a relative of the deceased Daimyo, Shinji’s very own son.

Daisuke thought it best to have another person give his stamp of approval as to the newcomers’ assistance in the raid. All things considered, this decision shouldn’t be only his to make and the other figurehead in the raid had the right to voice his opinion. Should the brothers succeed in convincing Shinji’s son, everyone else should fall in line.

Almost nearing the outskirts of Shin-Taiyo—on the distal side—you would notice a clear downgrade in the quality of buildings. The houses had grown smaller and humbler with the wood having lost its gloss, not to mention decay gnawing at the material, like a set of rotten teeth with dental cavities. The painting had suffered at the playful hands of little children scratching at it, as well as the clear signs of physical damage done to the buildings from the perpetual brawls taking place in this district. This was clearly an area for the more common—borderline delinquent—folk, unlike the noble residence of the Tokugawas.

Although nothing quite compared to the house they stopped at. Well, calling it a house was quite generous. At best it would be a cabin, and not the charming kind.

Someone lives here?!

Why am I not surprised he lives here…?

The dust was so thick it felt like a second layer applied intentionally on top of the decomposed wood which was clearly struggling to hold itself against the passing of time. The outside was littered with an abundance fallen leaves and branches, so much so that it was difficult to even feel the firm ground beneath them. When Tokugawa knocked on the door—or the wood plank that stood for a door—you would hold your breath fearing the entire thing would crumble. You would hold it again shortly after when the cabin rocked as the door opened. A simple sneeze seemed enough disturbance to threaten its stability.

The severe lack of maintenance to this place made it closer to a dump than an actual residence.

“Yo, good morning sensei.” he said, shading his eyes from the sunlight.

“Good morning to you too, Genjiro.”

“Oh, it’s four-eyes and large-sword. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

Pause.

Laith laughed out loud.

“Please don’t call me that, like ever again…and you Laith, don’t encourage him.”

Adam was not a fan of the nicknames, not to mention the utter displeasure with the stench of booze of which the entirety of the house reeked, including—especially—Genjiro.

“Why are you here sensei? And why are they here?” his tone made you question whether or not he was interested in an answer.

“You will accompany them to Akira san’s dojo.” Tokugawa replied.

“I will?”

“Yes, they will be working with us to take down Nakamura, so your cooperation would be appreciated.”

“Huh…okay.”

As simple as that, no questioning, no arguing, no complaining, no nothing. Just immediate and complete compliance…then again, he was the type to not give things too much thought.

“Alright, give me a moment.” Genjiro said, going back inside.

“Not to be rude Tokugawa san, but couldn’t you find a better company for us? I’m really concerned as to what your friend will think of us when we have Genjiro by our side…” Adam whispered.

Daisuke chuckled. “Worry not. He may not look like it, but he is beloved and widely respected amongst our forces. Besides, it would be nice if you bonded with him a little before the day of the raid.”

“I doubt he’s capable of bonding with anyone. He’s a little…different. And that’s me being nice.”

“Who knows, maybe a couple of other ‘different’ individuals like yourselves are the right fit to be his company.”

Adam sighed. “If you say so…”

Genjiro finally came out of his house, nothing different about him other than the katana strapped to his belt. His shaggy hair was still a mess, his face still drowsy and his kimono crumpled as ever. As a matter of fact, he wore the same black kimono…for what must have been two days.

Adam wanted to make a comment but refrained from doing so after some reflection. If his house was any indication, Genjiro was probably poor and couldn’t afford another set of clothing. However indifferent he was, such barb was out of line. Best not to go that far.

Although, Adam couldn’t help but frown at his unique affect, wondering how people—namely his companions—could ever get used to it. The samurai was truly one of a kind, to a point where some of the droids back from the Neumund seemed capable of showcasing more emotion than him. Laith just found him hilarious and giggled every time the samurai moved or talked.

Anything was better than having to deal with Genjiro the swordsman.

The latter led them through some fairly long stairs before taking a turn to the left. The place was getting slowly deserted, fewer people were present around them and no one—besides them—was headed in the same direction. It was as if everyone was avoiding the dojo which could be seen a bit ahead as Genjiro pointed towards it. Except there should be no reason for people to avoid a dojo, it was simply a space for training.

Unless…

Approaching the building, Adam grew more concerned with each step. The building felt empty, hollow and unattended for…and certainly didn’t look like a dojo now that Adam saw it up close. No sound could be heard outside their footsteps. The whole atmosphere smelled like a trap. Genjiro knocked…and regretted it a few heartbeats later.

“Ah shit…”

As soon as he uttered those words, without any noticeable delay, two hands draped around Laith. One hand held a short metal club to his neck threatening to strangle him while the other locked his right arm. They were still in front of the door. They had even yet to set foot in the supposed dojo, but they were clearly not welcome.

Laith did not notice, see, hear, smell or feel any form or presence before the weapon was already pushing against his skin. Whoever was holding it must have magically manifested out of thin air. That or he was extremely swift and nimble. The second assumption would definitely make him a bit more relieved.

Just a bit.

Whichever the case, there was a slight detail he was mistaken about. It was not a “he”.

“Why did you come here?” the voice was clearly that of a woman.

Laith was in no measure to answer, and she clearly did not await any response from him as her gaze pointed towards Adam who was every bit of surprised as his brother. At least he still retained his ability to speak.

“Okay, can you release him first? We can talk about this. This is all a huge misunderstanding, we were supposed to go to a dojo an—”

“Does this look like a dojo?”

“Now that you mention it, no. But we had someone lead us here and clearly, he didn’t know where he was going, so this is not our fault.”

It was indeed more of a hideout than an actual school where teachers taught students any form of martial arts. It was slightly larger than Genjiro’s house—albeit in a much better state—but in no world large enough to be a dojo. Not to mention the deep and mortifying silence that surrounded the place.

“Do I look like a fool? I only see two of you here, so I will ask one more time and for the last time, why did you come here?”

“What do you mean ‘there are only two of us’, he’s right the—”

That’s when Adam realized that their precious guide Genjiro was nowhere to be seen. A few possibilities immediately came to mind. The worst one by far was the likelihood that it was all a setup, Tokugawa Daisuke ultimately never trusted them and it was all a façade. He just waited for the right opportunity and made use of his associate to trick them and lure them into a trap, or whatever this mess of a situation was.

If, however, this was a betrayal, why would Daisuke go so far as share the details of his story to two strangers? To do so only to have them disposed of shortly after would be pointless. Unless Daisuke was lying of course and conjured up a fake narrative…but Adam heard him speak with his comrades earlier and both accounts mostly aligned.

Adam couldn’t make sense of anything anymore, definitely not in this predicament. Thankfully, his brother had had enough of being stuck with so many unanswered questions that would not get resolved peacefully, definitely not while being strangled. It was time to act.

Laith’s position was disadvantageous, which is why he needed to free himself from the opponent’s clutches. So, he slammed the back of his skull into the woman’s front, creating enough time and distance to pull out his weapon with a quick spin. Laith immediately drew his scimitar and hauled a diagonal slash that would have definitely caused considerable damage had it not been parried by the iron club…or what he initially presumed was an iron club.

It was actually a folded fan all along. It had eight or ten iron strokes—a little hard to count in the middle of a fight—with white flowery patterns embroidered on black. Before Laith could finish admiring the weapon before him, another fan came swinging at him from her left. He didn’t even see her move her hand when she performed the swing, he only saw an open fan headed for his right cheek.

He was fortunate enough to tuck down at the last moment or else it would have made for a nasty slap. However, he was not fortunate enough to dodge her low kick which caused him lose balance and nearly fall to the ground—flat on his face. Thankfully, his battle instincts allowed him to ram his sword into the ground, thus maintaining his stance. Not for long. She instantly kicked him right in the jaw, pushing him back a few steps. While it did send him flying, the kick wasn’t the strongest there was—he experienced far worse. Laith did however feel as if stung by a needle or grazed by a dagger. What was this wench hiding in her feet of all places? He couldn’t tell just yet, and she wasn’t giving the chance to.

This was not only a highly fast opponent, but also fairly resourceful. She moved gracefully and swiftly, as if she was performing a beautiful dance…a deadly dance. An uncommon fighting style Laith was not accustomed to, which made all the more frustrating to deal with. But one thing he had going for him was brute strength; he could always rely on that raw power of his. The fact that her blows did not hold that much weight behind them—unlike his—was the opening he could use to win.

Laith hadn’t landed just yet after being tossed in the air from her last kick, but she had no intention of waiting for him to regain proper footing. She immediately followed by catapulting herself to pursue him and continue her combo. Before she could reach him, and while still hovering in the air, Laith swung his sword in front of him with enough power to push her back about ten meters away.

Laith’s blow would have sliced her in half, if not for her fans blocking and absorbing most of the strike’s impact. The clanging of metal resonated strongly in the open area and both the fans and her hands shook for a good moment even after landing on the ground. If her expression darkening was any indication, his new approach proved effective. He figured would rather play to his strength instead of just partaking in her annoying dance.

That was until she decided to stop making him her dance partner and reduce Laith to a mere practice dummy.

She vanished from his sight. In a blink, a blur swirled around him…her motions were fast. No, fast was a severe understatement. He couldn’t even make out her figure when she was moving; he even doubted that it was the same woman attacking him. A flurry of blows overwhelmed him, sometimes the fans, sometimes the kicks…he wasn’t able to differentiate in the short span of time he was being beaten down.

Not even on the intense field of war had he suffered this many blows—when the entire battle lasted for half a day, mind you. The swirling blur lasted no longer than ten heartbeats, and yet he sustained a hundred or so blows. Not that he counted…he was too busy getting pummeled.

Finally, the onslaught stopped. The woman could be discerned once again in front of him.

What the hell…how could she move that fast…? Laith was flabbergasted.

What the hell…how is he still standing…? She was equally flabbergasted.

For the duration of those ten heartbeats, he was indeed a practice dummy, withstanding hit after hit without any kind of response. But a practice dummy was meant to withstand hit after hit without falling as well. And Laith didn’t fall; his endurance was as ridiculous as her speed. They glared at each other, both stunned at the opponent’s feat.

And that’s when Adam stepped in. He stood between them raising both his arms, like a referee motioning for both fighters to stop, with a smug face no less. This was definitely not the time to act all cool and badass because his intervention seemed downright suicidal. But Adam seemed confident enough, and unlike the last time where he was mostly shaken by the intensity of the battle, this time his mind was elsewhere.

“You two can give it a rest now, you have no reason to be fighting.” Adam said.

“Excuse me?! She was the one to jump on us out of the blue.” Laith shouted.

“Keep it down.” Adam replied then faced the woman. “I definitely didn’t expect to see you, Yuuna”

Silence.

“Ho-how do you… know my name?” her voice was muffled from the mask—a simple piece of cloth—over her mouth.

“Oh, you haven’t recognized me yet. Bah, I can’t really blame you. I nearly forgot how ridiculous I must look with all the hair covering my face. It’s me Adam, been a while but hope you haven’t completely forgotten about me.” he took off his glasses—maybe she’d recognize him better without them.

She was dumbfounded. Her eyes widened slowly as the sudden realization started to sink in. The last time they met each other was long, long ago…so long it’s almost a miracle they could even remember it with all that had happened since then.

He was only nineteen when he visited her country. It was the summer prior to the year when the Distortion happened. He stayed in a traditional guest house where he was welcomed by a kind family and Yuuna was the older of two sisters, about two years younger than him. She was a great help to him during his stay and they developed a nice friendship and kept in touch even after he left.

But much time had passed since and she had changed to a point where it was hard to even look at her the same way—only now were they able to make out her features after she’d been flitting around. The smooth porcelain skin shining under the sunlight combined with her slender figure made it easy to mistake her body for that of a mannequin. Her short hair, curved around her face, was a little messy from the fight, but its violet color was bewitching. She used that same color to paint her fingernails—the toes’ as well. She was wearing a sleeveless cat suit with a V-neckline in addition to a red sash tied around her waist. As for her arms, they were covered with fingerless warmers painted in dark blue, similarly to the rest of her outfit.

Her sandals could not be considered practical. They had moderately high and extremely pointy heels, enough to stab or slash someone with them, which would explain how Laith’s chin was scratched earlier. It would definitely take a monumental effort to walk in them, which made her combat feats that much more impressive. What was even more impressive was the fact she made little to no sound when she moved in them, a skill she honed thanks to a very particular training regime.

As she removed her mask, both brothers couldn’t help but stare…somewhat lasciviously. She was quite simply gorgeous. Her face was nigh flawless, not a single dark spot or acne or wrinkle dared spoil her skin. The eyes, nose and mouth were all so fine, which conveyed a seductive look further enhanced by the subtle makeup, consisting of a violet lipstick and the shading over her eyelids.

Yuuna folded both her fans and tied them to the sash on her waist, contemplating the two men facing her for a few seconds. The look of surprise had yet to leave her eyes.

“No? You don’t remember?” Adam asked again.

He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Family reunions were no longer taken for granted after the Distortion; to meet a friend from halfway across the world…the entire situation seemed surreal.

“No, no I do, I’m sorry, it’s just…I still can’t believe it…”

“Uh, someone wanna fill me in?” Laith had very little idea about the ongoing situation.

“I told you about Yuuna, my friend from that trip way back when. Don’t tell me you forgot?” Adam sounded like he was blaming his brother.

“Yeah…sorry, but I did forget…” Laith felt bad about it.

“You must be Laith san, Adam told me about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Yuuna addressed him.

Laith lowered his head, embarrassed to even look her in the eyes.

“Oh my God, she even remembers my name even though I never met her or even remember her existence…” he mumbled, hearing the bells of shame ringing…

“It’s fine really, you don’t have to feel guilty, there’s no way you could remember.” Yuuna said in an attempt to comfort him.

“Except you did remember…”

She chuckled a little at his response.

“So, what have you been up to all this time?” Adam cut off their funny exchange.

“Oh, that will take forever to explain, so let us meet at the ramen restaurant down the stairs. We’ll catch up while eating there. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Got something to do?” Adam asked.

“The way you saw me move just now comes with a price, the rebound will kick off any time now.”

I’d be surprised if it didn’t…that was inconceivable, Laith thought.

“Just make sure you don’t get lost like you did on the way here.” Yuuna grinned.

“It wasn’t our fault I’m telling you, there was this guy and he bail—”

“I know, I know, I saw him escape. I was just trying to corner you.” she interrupted Adam.

“Huh, you changed Yuuna.” Adam eyed her warily.

“I had to become a bit more cunning, I am a Kunoichi after all.” Yuuna winked.

Things definitely took a turn for the unexpected. Fortunately for Adam and Laith, it was the good kind of unexpected.