Chapter Text
Stepping out of the small train terminal in Hanamura brought a fresh wave of spring air to your lungs. You stopped for just a moment to survey your surroundings, stretching a bit after the train ride from Tokyo. In reality, the trip only took a little bit over an hour, but that was considered long these days, as the trains could travel hundreds of miles per hour without ever touching the ground. Like an arrow piercing the wind.
After spending the last two days surrounded by airships, hover trains, and bustling travellers, the seeming peacefulness of the small Japanese city was a welcome change. As you looked into the clear sky, you could see the sloping eaves of Shimada Castle. However, you still had some time to kill before meeting your new employer. You walked somewhat aimlessly down the street, although you already knew the basic layout of the city due to the research you had conducted on your way to Hanamura.
You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts due to the large green lizard that had appeared in your field of view. You realized that you had happened upon a small ramen shop and at once became aware of the hunger you felt from days of travelling with very few hot meals. Walking under the sheets of fabric that guarded the ramen shop from the street, you were greeted by an old man.
This certainly hadn’t been your first time in the country, and although your Japanese wasn’t perfect, you were able to convey your order to the man behind the counter. As the man turned away from you to walk into the kitchen, you sat at the counter and mentally prepared yourself for your new job, which was somewhat unlike anything you had done before.
Even from the start the whole thing was different from other jobs. Although you had worked for, not with, never with, organized crime groups before, this one was different. The correspondence you had received from the Shimada clan was very formal. It had explained to you that you had been “summoned” by Sojiro Shimada to be a consultant to his clan, which was basically his family, plus a small army of mercenaries. Sure, other mobs operated within family trees but this one was a strict patriarchy with Sojiro sitting at the top.
The old man came out of the kitchen with your ramen and was gone just as soon as you thanked him. You began eating and kept thinking.
After some digging to find out if the job in Japan was legit, you discovered that this Sojiro character had two sons: Hanzo, the eldest, and Genji, the youngest. Both of them were near your age. There was also the Shimada mother, Sojiro’s wife, but you couldn’t find much on her. You decided to take the job because the pay was nice and, in all honesty, the strangely traditional methods of the Shimada clan intrigued you. A little bit of a closer look had taught you that the clan was involved with assassination and the illegal trafficking of weapons and drugs. This, too, had caught your interest. You had worked with movers before, but never with assassins. And although you had seen your fair share of deaths, they were always collateral damage, as awful as it may sound. People had had their lives cut short because they were sticking their fingers in somebody else’s pie, or had simply been at the wrong place in the wrong time and heard too much. The endgame of your jobs was never killing.
The old man shuffled from inside the kitchen and a content look was resting on his wrinkled face.
“So,” said the old man, cheerfully, drying off a clean bowl, “what made you take such a long trip to Hanamura?”
“Work,” you replied shortly. You didn’t trust your rusty Japanese skills to fashion a more detailed sentence, and the man seemed unaffected by your simple answer anyway.
“Ah, what type of work do you do?” the old man questioned, seeming genuinely interested in what you had to say.
“Small business,” you answered lightly, “I gather and sort through information for people.” Not a complete lie. But you left out the part where you sometimes fight your way into corporate buildings and even hack personal accounts to weave your web of info.
“I see,” said the old man, nodding, “I hope you enjoy your time here, even if it is for work. ”
“Thank you,” you simply said, ignoring the emphasis he placed on work , as if it mattered to him what you did. You placed the correct amount of yen on the counter and walked out the door, receiving a small thanks from the old man.
You figured it was about time to head over to Shimada castle. The small conversation you had with the old man working in the ramen shop made you feel a bit more acclimated to the city and gave you the opportunity to use some of your Japanese. But, how did he know you had travelled a long way to visit Hanamura?
. . .
As you rounded the corner near Rikimaru ramen shop you came upon the gates of the Shimada compound. The two intersecting dragons carved on the large wooden doors were certainly an imposing image. They were also quite the contradiction to the services that had already been supplied to you by the clan: two rides in small private planes separated by an overnight stay in the nicest hotel you’d ever been in. And all of it was courtesy of the Shimada clan.
The gates opened and you were greeted by a smiling petite housemaid flanked two body guards in suits and dark shades.
“Welcome,” said the housemaid in English as she bowed, “I do hope your trip was pleasant.”
“Yes, it was,” you replied, surveying the garden area you had walked into. There were guards next to you at the door as well as others guarding the entrance to a traditional Japanese tower that housed an impressive looking bell engraved with the clan’s symbol. There was also a sniper posted on the roof of the small building to your left. The clan had probably known of your presence in Hanamura before you even stepped foot in the ramen shop.
“Master Shimada will be pleased to hear it,” the maid said in her small feminine voice. “You must be tired from your travels. I’ll show you to your room where you can rest and get washed up before tea with the master and his sons.”
You gave her a small nod of acknowledgement as she led the way, leaving the guards behind. The maid led you into another traditional-looking building before turning down a small hallway and then turning down two more identical ones. The space had changed before your eyes. When you first entered the building the floors were lined with tatami mats, the walls simply pieces of paper framed by dark wood. However, as the maid showed you to your room, the floors were now cherry-colored planks of hardwood and the walls were a more modern type of drywall, albeit still framed by dark wood.
“Here’s your room, miss,” the maid said. “If anything isn’t to your liking, I’m sure we can arrange to have it changed for you. And your bags have already been delivered. Would you like help getting settled?”
“No, I’m sure I’ll manage,” you replied. “Thank you, though.”
“Very well,” the maid said. “I’ll be back in an hour to collect you for tea. If you need anything at all, please alert the staff.” She departed with a small bow and a soft smile.
You gave her a small nod as she slid the wooden door of your new room shut.
Just as you turned to start unpacking a quick but polite knock sounded at the door and the young maid appeared again.
“My name is Shizune, by the way,” she said with a giggle, dropping her polite stiffness for the first time.
“My name is ___,” you replied, giving her an equally genuine smile.
She gave you another small bow as her round, dimpled face was painted with a wider, more pleased smile, obviously caused by your opening up to her.
You slid the door shut and looked over what would be your home for the next few months. There was a double bed, covered in silk sheets and a futon-style blanket, in one corner of the room. At the foot of the bed was a storage chest made of dark wood and next to that a small closet with a few bamboo hangers in it. On the far wall of the room was a small round window above a simple wooden desk with a few drawers and a chair. On the left wall of the room there was a door that led to a small but modern bathroom with black tile floors and white tile walls.
Just as you were about to unzip your bag, another series of knocks were placed upon the door. Figuring it was just Shizune coming back to tell you something she had forgotten, you didn’t hesitate to fully open the door to your room. However you were quite surprised when you were greeted rather enthusiastically by a boy not too much younger than you, his wide amber eyes sparkling under the metal headband he wore across his forehead.