Hoshiguma

L.G.D. backup Ah Hsiang sucks in a deep, deep breath when the runaway lets the first crossbow bolt fly. He can scarcely believe his eyes.

'No one told me anything about this!' he shrieked. 'Why the hell are they doing this in the city? That's not how this is supposed to work!'

'It's the pursuit of wealth. Not uncommon.'

The towering Oni lady who responds leans behind a metal barrel, her posture somehow relaxed, but her hand never leaving her shield.

There's a momentary break in the commotion.

Hoshiguma takes a peek out. The other end is pitch black, and she knows danger hides in the dark.

The L.G.D.'s reinforcements are still out in the street, hemmed by a group of runaways who've broken the rules, their attack primed and imminent.

The situation is, in essence, a total crapshoot, and they can only wait for a chance to break the encirclement.

Ah Hsiang's face is grave. He was a street youth, no stranger to the downtown. He'd scraped through life for some years in every corner of the city, just a nameless nobody, but at least he had a talent for making it, or so he'd profess.

Now he was an informant for the L.G.D., and at a glance much steadier on his feet. No need to lie, Hoshiguma was happy for that.

It's hard to tell who brought up the conversation up first.

'How's everyone else been?'

'Pretty good. Ah Sam's family found him a job. Daai Tau's running a bar now. I remember he was counting on you for the official stuff, Madame Oni.'

'That's right. You? Haven't been back home all these years?'

'No, too busy. Wouldn't work out.'

'How's your family doing, then?'

'Living on pensions. Not much, but they get by.'

'That's good. Stable.'

'You, Madame Oni?'

'I'm cruising. If it's enough, it's enough for me.'

Ah Hsiang doesn't say any more. Neither does Hoshiguma.

The weather is gloomy, and it rained not long ago.

Filthy, strangely-tinted water leaks out from the pile of trash bags next to them, trickling out near their feet and straight into a drain not far away.

A rustling gradually abates. The calmer it gets, the more his nerves stretch.

At that moment, Ah Hsiang suddenly becomes talkative.

'You afraid, Madame Oni?'

He asks, but he also keeps going. 'I only agreed to pitch in for the L.G.D. this time because you were here.'

'There was that one time they said we could go out with knives to spook that shop guy for trying to snatch up business, and we'd get lai see for it. You still remember that, Madame Oni?'

Hoshiguma stares at the alley entrance, unnodding.

She remembers coming across those youngsters a few years ago. They were trash, dumped out onto the street, seen as scum unfit for society. They lived muddied lives, liable to drop dead for no reason, at any time.

So when Wei Yenwu invited her to join the L.G.D., Hoshiguma spent a whole night thinking, and then nodded to agree.

She believes there'll be change in Lungmen.

'If you didn't stop me back then, I would've gone with them.'

The voice behind her trembles.

'I heard, later, they actually killed someone, and they all got thrown in.

'And there was the other time, those mafia guys from outside came giving us trouble, and in the end it was you who held them off too.'

His throat constricts, his teeth chatter, and his voice seems to falter somewhat.

'I've been thinking. My family's toughing it a little, going on nothing but pension after all.

'I bet you'd have an easy time charging out there if you wanted. If I wasn't here.

'I took out insurance on myself, you know. I'm sorted.

'So, Madame Oni, don't worry about me, '

Clank.

A sudden brittle noise.

Like some kind of signal, the L.G.D. Inspector rises like a sheer mountain, and breaks her silence with a roar of fury.

All hell breaks loose within that shortest of moments, set to the sound of trash being trampled, and piles of barrels being knocked over, and crossbows slicing the air, and, Hefty crashes of metal.

An unblocked bolt pierces the Lungmen Guard Department Inspector's badge Hoshiguma has set on her chest, but it doesn't stop her shield sweeping through every foe as she stands in front of the one she's meant to protect, not one step forward, not one step back.

Hoshiguma once again lifts her shield, swallows a mouthful of blood back down, and coughs twice before finally saying something.

'Not worrying about you'll be a little difficult.'

She wipes a bloodstain from the corner of her mouth, voice as though choking on water. 'Try something I can do instead, say, letting me apply for your bonus this operation. How's that?'

■■ Day, ■■ Month

I got this shield from him. Unusual form, extremely sharp, but feels good to hold.

Hannya, he says its name is. I don't know what scripture was on his mind when he named it, or who he was thinking of, or what mistake, but I like the name. Hannya. I'll take it with me. From here on, it's my partner.

■■ Day, ■■ Month

Before I left, Hannya's good old 'father' said he had something else to give me. I thought it'd be something important, but it was just a hunk of scrap metal.

He said any handle paired with Hannya, I'd need to polish myself. It's a strange ask, but if that's part of the craft, it's not like I can't do it. Hannya already has a front that terrifies people, and an edge sharp enough to chop through enemies, so me personally making an inside to match might be the proper way.

■■ Day, ■■ Month

Apparently, I've got to polish this to the point I can fight holding Hannya barehanded without chafing my hands, or feeling any sort of discomfort.

As in, I've just got to polish all the edges flat?

Alright, looks like this is going to be a very long process.

■■ Day, ■■ Month

I feel like I've been polishing for long enough, but it still chafes.

It looks smooth and flat already. Is this still not enough?

■■ Day, ■■ Month

It's been... some time since I left Higashi. Lungmen's a complex place. There's good parts, and bad parts. I've taught lessons to plenty who needed them, and run across plenty of interesting folk. I think I like it here.

There's no part of Hannya's handle for me to polish any further. After using it so long, even the curve's run flat. But it's still a metal block in the end, and no matter what, it won't reach the point where people can use it without any discomfort. It seems like it was all an impossible task from the beginning.

I guess my craft isn't perfected enough. Even if I force myself to polish all the edges flat, it still can't hide itself. An iron chunk's an iron chunk, and it won't get any softer. Even if it looks smooth and slick, its nature won't change.

As of today, I think I've understood his intent a little.

■■ Day, ■■ Month

I got this gift from my friends.

Maybe it's bad of me to say this, but I definitely didn't expect those two ladies to put so much care into thinking up a suitable present for me. A latest-model soft-strap shield handle... it sure is something I've been in need of. I appreciate the consideration.

You know what they say about kind gestures from friends. Let's try using it tomorrow.