#hachibei

Quiet Ones

(Possible content warning for injuries at the beginning; not terribly graphic though.)

Li Long awoke to the sounds of footsteps and the steady tapping of a cane, then stretched his aching limbs. He rose from the futon and stepped into the warm sunlight that streamed through the lattice window. Slowly he began to peel the stained bandage off his right arm, revealing a raw, reddish slash. Too close, he knew. The blades and arrows of the daimyō’s guards came all too close to ending his mission. Long had strength enough to evade the ones that pursued him, but the archers had gotten in two lucky shots to his left side and leg. He ran toward the mountains until he staggered, breathless and bleeding down the lone dirt road, clutching his bladed nunchaku. Had the daughter of the nameshi shopkeeper not found him collapsed, he would have died a fool of an assassin, alone in enemy country.

Now he was tempted to retrieve his weapon from under his pillow and use the jutting blades at either end to cut the rest of his bandages. But, even as his hands trembled, he began to remove the bandage on his left arm. He could almost feel it burning again, as though he had been winged by an arrow. Finally, he would have to check his torso and left shoulder.

Long then turned at the soft footsteps behind him. A young woman in a yellow-red, lattice patterned kimono looked on in surprise, holding a steaming tea cup. A bundle of clean, undyed cloth was tucked into her red obi.

“Oh, good morning, Chie,” Long said.

With a shy smile, Chie drew closer and handed him the cup. The light brush of her slender fingers steadied his hand. How it stung him to remember that when he first woke up here, he had shrank from her touch as though it were poison. Not once had she shown any malice. Her manner was as patient and gentle as ever. He sipped slowly, savoring the tea. Her tea had always been good.

She seemed to glow in the light, with the soft sheen of her black hair and the bright daylily-color of her kimono. He thought that he might have imagined her cheeks blushing, but she quickly turned her head away. In a whisper, one word slipped from his mouth: “Beautiful.”

Chie looked at him from the corner of her eye, placing her hand over her mouth. Then she giggled to herself.

Long only knew Chie’s voice from her laughter, sometimes her sighs, and, on quiet evenings, a soft hum of a little melody. Even these little sounds had become lovely to him. “I meant it,” he said. “You really are beautiful.”

At the tapping of a bamboo cane, they both froze. Her father Hachibei stepped into the little room, with only a raised eyebrow to show for his mood. “I trust you’re feeling better, Li Long?” he asked flatly.

“Still sore,” Long answered. “Better than yesterday, though.”

Hachibei silently examined Long’s scabbed-over wounds. “You’re lucky indeed. By now, you might’ve been feverish from blood poisoning.”

Long could only nod. He had noticed a dark line on the cane, just below the second ridge from the top. Rumor had it in this country that some assassins hid blades in canes like that one. Why would an aging nameshi shopkeeper from some isolated mountain village even need one?

“And you, Chie,” Hachibei continued, turning to his daughter, “you’ve certainly done well in looking after him.”

Chie simply nodded.

Hachibei looked at the both of them, as though lost in thought. “I’ll be preparing breakfast if you need me. Li Long, you’re welcome to join us.” He then left for the kitchen.

Long heaved a sigh of relief. Hachibei had been courteous enough to let him stay and recuperate. He never asked him why he came to Japan, let alone this far inland. By the Emperor’s orders, he probably should not have gone that far—unless there was a chance that the Hero’s Sword was there.

Later that morning, Long joined Chie and Hachibei for breakfast. It was a simple meal of rice, as it usually was. All the while, he could not help but catch Chie stealing glances at him over her bowl. He knew he ought not to get attached to her, but as far as he was concerned, the Hero’s Sword could wait.

Hachibei gave him only one warning: “Be careful with my daughter, Li Long. She’s all I have left.”

Summer evenings quietly passed. Long tried to get himself back into fighting shape by practicing with his bladed nunchaku in a small clearing at some distance from the village. Chie followed him, only looking back after movements that even he did not hear. She had watched him swing the nunchaku over his head and all around, even shredding the leaves of a sapling. Just seeing her admiring gaze was enough to invigorate him.

But at night, the woods were so eerily quiet that he did not doubt Chie’s silent imploring to leave at sunset. There had been no sign of the daimyō’s soldiers since his escape, but Long’s instincts told him that the woods had to be crawling with bandits.

Some nights, when there had been no sound but wind, Chie squeezed his hand and stayed by him a little while longer. Long embraced her and let her rest her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’ll protect you, Chie,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. “I promise.” He then kissed her forehead.

She relaxed in his arms. For a moment, a guilty look crossed her face, then she leaned on him and gave an exhausted sigh. Whatever it was, Long could not shake the feeling that it was something that Hachibei had not told him about.

Chie let go of Long and stood up. She waited a moment as the wind died down and quiet prevailed. She briefly knelt down, then kissed him on the cheek.

Sure thing. I will talk about the two wonderful dogs of this series (mainly in the manga). 

Hachibei and Antoiniette!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Soul Calibur Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Taki (Soul Calibur), Toki (Soul Calibur), Chie (Soul Calibur), Hachibei (Soul Calibur) Additional Tags: Prompt Fic, Pre-Canon, Adoption, Past Character Death, Childhood, Paranoia, Cross-Posted on Tumblr Series: Part 9 of Laika's SoulCaliblr Community Prompt Fills Summary:

An orphaned Taki is taken in by the leader of the Fu-Ma ninja clan and befriends the daughter of his long-time rival.

In the eighth year of Eiroku, a plague devastated the numbers of the Fu-Ma clan. The clan’s leader Toki had seen more new graves than he wanted to count and more pyre smoke in a month than he ever wished to remember. When the sun was low in the sky, he stood by his wife’s gravestone, wondering how it had come to this. It was during this silent contemplation when he heard a little girl weeping. Toki found her clad in a simple white kimono, hunched over before a set of four new wooden grave markers. Unsure as to whether the girl could read yet, he supposed she had stayed there since her mother’s burial that afternoon. He knelt down on the ground and softly began to speak to her, “What are you doing here by yourself, child?”

Startled by his rough voice, the girl timidly asked, “Who are you?”

“You don’t know? I am Toki, the head of our clan.”

“I’m Taki.” The girl wiped her tired eyes and sniffled. “I want Okāchan…”

Though Toki could hardly believe his ears, he grimly shook his head. “Your mother passed on. She can’t help you anymore.”

The girl pleadingly stared up at him, lip quivering. “I-I want… I want Otōchan back. And my brothers!”

With a weary sigh, Toki put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I can’t bring them back. Now come along. It’s getting dark.”

“Are there ghosts?” Taki looked back at the graves nervously.

Toki stood up and shut his eyes for a moment. “None at all,” he answered in a low voice. “I understand things are frightening right now, but do you know what you are? You’re a Fu-Ma. What we Fu-Ma do when we’re afraid is let the fear pass through us.”

The warmth in his words calmed Taki. “Then what?”

“Come with me and I will teach you,” Toki said, holding out his hand.

Taki grabbed his hand and followed him at his heels. On their way out, she stacked a pair of pebbles before the Jizō statue for her brothers.

“Now Jizō is looking after your brothers in the next world,” Toki said. “So shall I look after you in this world.”

Toki knew from the murmurings among the Fujibe faction that her mother had not been a widow for long. After her husband died, her two sons perished one by one—the first was about six years of age and the other scarcely two. Two potential demon hunters among the many lost that summer. By Fu-Ma clan law, when an orphan had no relatives left in the clan, it ultimately fell to the leader to decide who would raise them. In practice, this often resulted in the child’s mentor being recognized as their foster parent, and none would have denied Toki’s skills in fighting demons nor man.

Over the years, the hidden passageways and traps of the Fu-Ma leader’s mansion became as familiar to her as the little house of her parents once was. Taki became Toki’s shadow, and he could not have been more pleased if she had been his own child reborn. She quickly took to balancing across narrow beams and imitating Toki’s near-silent steps. She sat by him when he studied old spell scrolls before she could read much of the kanji on them and by the time she could read them, the techniques therein on sealing demons and refining spiritual power fascinated her as much as the illustrations of red-clad ninjas dwarfed by hulking, wild-eyed oni once did.

“These are powers that few in this country—no, that few in this world have,” Toki explained. “Your father was a demon hunter, as was your mother, and so were their ancestors. Even a peasant can feel the chill of a ghost nearby, but the ability to sense one from miles away must be as finely honed as a sword. The same goes for any other skill you will need, whether you fight demons or forge weapons against them. That is what sets us Fu-Ma apart from other ninja clans.”

And Taki listened well, dreaming of the day she would receive a blade of her own.

Of all the children of the high-ranking Fu-Ma ninjas, it was Chie, the daughter of Hachibei, whom Taki had been quickest to befriend. Quiet, shy Chie kept out the mock bare-handed combat when the children who had recently started such training were apt to show off. Though Taki was no less enthusiastic about it than the rest, if they had the guts to hit the clan leader’s daughter, Taki had found something calming in Chie’s gentle attitude.

But Chie shrank whenever Toki found them playing together. Taki could only look on when Hachibei led her away with only an icy glare for Toki. Even the old blacksmith Enkai in his worst temper would never have given him such a look. From what Taki had seen, he was calm with his daughter, his wife, and his apprentices. Toki had always kept a suspicious eye on him when he was nearby.

“He’s biding his time, I know it,” Toki hissed when they were out of earshot. “He had his chance to take my place and he had the gall to yield.”

Taki suppressed a shudder, for Hachibei’s swordsmanship was a match for her foster father’s. “But why would he wait so long to… act?”

“A skilled hawk hides its talons. It’ll behoove you to remember that.” He folded his hands over the top of his bamboo cane.

With a pang of dread in her heart, Taki nodded.

-

When it came time for sparring in the dojo, Taki could meet the other children eye-to-eye and strike and dodge without fear. The twin sisters Kiki and Chiki she had faced in turn, and Taki had knocked their short bokken out of their hands. After each one retrieved their practice swords and bowed, Taki thought she saw an apologetic look in their eyes. Neither looked in Toki’s direction as they slunk to their mother Fuki’s side. Toki merely looked on in silent self-satisfaction, with a smirk toward Fuki.

But then came Chie. Even when the other children complained that she never seemed to want to fight, Taki thought they had a point. Hachibei sent her into the match with an encouraging nod. “It’s only training,” he said. “Just focus on your opponent.”

“Ready…” the judge called out. “Three, two, one… Begin!”

Chie crouched into a defensive stance, raising her bokken over her chest. Taki gamely mirrored her stance. Pity, Toki had told her, was useless for a ninja. The least she could do was show her how a fight should go. She struck at her and suddenly stopped the blade mid-air as Chie side-stepped her. Taki spun on her heel and swung her bokken, and no sooner than she could blink, their wooden blades collided.

“Come on,” Taki hissed. “At least try…”

There was no shame in guarding, but it was the way Chie kept stepping back that frustrated her as she tried to close in on her. Was she afraid to strike her because Toki was watching? It should not have mattered. It should not have mattered even if she had been his own flesh and blood. She would have to teach her that.

Taki swung again, but slashed only air as Chie jumped back. Too late she heard Chie yelling as she lunged, ramming her elbow just below her chest. Gasping, Taki clutched the hilt of her bokken as she collapsed onto the floor.

The dojo fell silent. She only heard Chie whisper “Sorry” before the judge declared the match over.

Toki rushed to Taki’s side and helped her to her feet. “What did I tell you?” he growled.

Taki bit back the urge to say that she knew. Her opponent had hidden her talons well. Or did he think she pitied her? This, too, she held her tongue on. Hachibei and his wife were already guarding Chie, who cast an anxious glance at her. Taki turned to her and bowed; Chie graciously bowed in return.

“You’ve taught your daughter well, Hachibei,” Toki said evenly, though his eyes were angry.

“I didn’t teach her that one, Master Toki,” Hachibei said.

In spite of himself, Toki led Taki back home in silence. Taki knew full well that everyone who fought bare-handed long enough knew how to knock the wind out of their opponents, but when Toki was this angry, he would hear no arguments whatsoever. She would let him seethe alone, waiting until he was absorbed in some scroll or slashing at a training dummy, and then make her temporary escape.

-

Later that afternoon, Taki and Chie snuck out into a thicket at the outskirts of the village. It was quiet enough and there was still just enough foliage to hide them. All had been forgiven between them, but Chie was still nervous, fiddling with the fallen maple seed pods. The tree’s trunk had been marked by punctures and scratches that spoke of practice with metal claws. “When I’m older,” Chie said, looking out at the distant workshops, “I think I want to be in the Inobe faction.” She dropped a seed pod and watched it twirl in the breeze.

Taki looked at her in surprise. “For what? Smithing?”

“No. For protective magic and things like that. Like Fuki does.”

“But… that doesn’t mean you’ll get out of combat training. Kiki and Chiki have to do that too, you know.”

“They’re always fighting each other anyway!”

“I know.” Taki shrugged. Even in play, the twins were prone to squabbling—the kind that tended to bring Fuki herself running to pull them apart.

Chie threw another seed pod to the wind. “So, why did you think I was going to say smithing?”

Taki glanced over at the column of smoke rising from the forge in the distance. She could almost hear the clanging of metal at the sight of it. “If Elder Enkai will let me, maybe I’ll watch him forge one of his blades.”

“Ah. Would Master Toki let you do that?”

“Why shouldn’t he?” Taki crossed her arms and leaned against the tree, hoping that Chie would not pry.

“I mean he seems so harsh with you.”

“Oh, he’s worse to his guards.”

“Maybe you’re right. But you know how he looks at my father… It’s scary.”

“You should see him practice with his sword when he’s angry. He must’ve shredded at least one dummy to ribbons by now.”

Chie’s eyes widened. “I don’t think he’d tell you if you asked, but my father told me he’s content where he is as a demon hunter.”

Taki put her hand to her chin and thought about everything Toki told her about him. If Hachibei truly was planning to assassinate the clan leader, his family would not be spared. “I hope you’re right,” she quietly said as a chill ran down her spine.

Chie quickly looked around with her hand cupped over her mouth, as though someone had just overheard them. Taki, too, furtively looked around but nothing crashed through the brush. The voice of Chie’s mother echoed from the village, calling, “Chie! Chi-e!”

“Sounds like I’d better go,” Chie said. “We’ll meet here after training tomorrow, won’t we?”

“Of course,” Taki answered.

(For the SC community's October prompt. This turned out to be a little longer than I'd planned.)

In its scabbard, Mekki-Maru seemed to be an ordinary kodachi, if one ignored the paper talisman wrapped around it. Hachibei furtively looked around, then with a stern expression, he handed it to Taki. “You must keep this blade out of Master Toki’s hands,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “If this is the last thing I do for the clan, so be it.”

Taki’s heart pounded in awe, yet she felt a prickling of dread as she remembered how jealously her foster father had guarded Mekki-Maru. Toki had never even allowed her to touch it. Now Taki remembered the fire in his eyes when he ordered the deaths of Hachibei and his daughter Chie for deserting the clan with his stolen blade. The sheer vehemence in his voice haunted her all the way to the mountains at the western edge of Shinano Province. Death was the fate of nukenin—fugitive ninjas—and inwardly, Taki had been relieved to be the first to find them.

Chie was nowhere to be seen in the small nameshi shop, but Taki knew she could return at any moment. There had also been a young man with her earlier. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, and his brown hair was tied in a topknot. The tender glances the two shared made her heart sink. An extra casualty, she began to fear. Hachibei was leaning on his bamboo cane, and no Fu-Ma ninja would forget the sword hidden within it. The gentle Chie never had the heart for direct combat, and Taki’s blood ran cold at the idea of her in such a shock that she could not even point a dagger at her.

“Are you sure you want me to leave you?” Taki asked guardedly.

Hachibei clasped his worn hands over his cane, his eyes softening for a moment. “Should you meet any of Toki’s minions, tell them a wandering swordsman killed us. Or bandits.”

Taki remembered a rumor that had been whispered around the clan years ago. When she asked Toki about it, he suddenly scowled and told her to be silent. “This is the blade the Manji clan was destroyed for.” Her voice fell too low to come close to a questioning tone.

Hachibei solemnly dipped his head. “Oda Nobunaga’s forces slaughtered them. Toki only wanted Mekki-Maru.”

“I should be on my way.” Taki bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Hachibei.”

“Wait a moment,” Hachibei said, looking toward the door. “I’ll distract Chie and Li Long while you head out. I promise I won’t tell them you were here.”

Taki bowed again and waited as he left the shop. She listened until Hachibei and Li Long’s voices faded into the distance before sneaking out at last. As the sun set over the mountains, she watched the three reenter the shop. Taki could not catch a word before leaving, though she thought she heard Chie laughing. Was this what it was like to be a nukenin? To seize any moment of joy in a life of peril? Taki could scarcely begin to imagine Toki’s fury at the very notion that any daughter of his would aid a nukenin. It made her want to laugh uncontrollably, but she clutched Mekki-Maru and breathed deeply until she collected herself.

She lingered perhaps a little too long before setting off to hide the cursed sword, but she did not dare draw it. Then came rumors of a fight that broke out in a lone nameshi shop involving a rōnin or two and a Chinese man with bladed nunchaku, and a young woman stabbed in the back. Taki could not bear to listen in on any more villagers’ gossip before making her way back to Ōmi Province. She only hoped it had all been false.

After many days’ travel, Taki returned to the Fu-Ma village alone at dusk. All along the way to the clan leader’s great house, she felt every nervous gaze on her. For some, she wondered if there was a glint of relief that she came back without a pair of heads. Perhaps they feared that her news would anger Toki further. But of all the clan, the Yasunobe faction, who answered only to Toki himself, watched her with eager anticipation.

At the courtyard, Toki’s right-hand man Geki approached her with a sneer. “You’ve come back empty-handed, Taki.”

Taki firmly asked, “Where’s Master Toki?”

“He’s in the reception room. He’s been waiting for you, you know.” Geki stroked his thin beard in self-satisfaction. “We’re all looking forward to the news.”

“You can wait like everyone else,” Taki said, almost snarling.

“If you insist, Taki-neesan,” Geki retorted.

Taki hurried inside and slid the door shut. There were many hidden passageways and caches within the house, and so much more if one listened for the clockwork. But behind its shoji door, the tatami reception room was deceptively ordinary. There Master Toki was seated on a cushion in front of the alcove where a scroll hung on the wall. In the light of a lamp, he had been poring over an old scroll that Taki could not recognize at a glance; Toki swiftly put it away and beckoned to her. His nearly bald head stood out in the flickering lamp light. The remaining hair on the sides of his head was graying but one would not notice it in the darkness.

Taki silently bowed.

“Rise, Taki. I trust you have word of Mekki-Maru’s whereabouts?”

She obeyed and at once played the part of the diligent daughter and protégé. Her voice fell low and her expression was downcast. “Mekki-Maru is lost.”

“How?” The word came out as a growl. “Then you found Hachibei, didn’t you?”

“I did. But someone else killed him and his daughter before I found their hiding place. They ran a nameshi shop along a mountain road near western edge of Shinano Province, near Hida Province.” Taki felt a lump form in her throat, but Toki silently listened. “Chie had a lover there, but he killed her and Hachibei, then he stole Mekki-Maru.”

Toki sat still for a moment that seemed to stretch for far too long. His eyes widened and the corners of his mouth twisted into a snarl. Then, he began to laugh. It was a low and cruel laugh. He had been robbed of the satisfaction of killing his rival by a stranger, and yet he broke into a grin. “And what is the thief’s name?”

“Li Long.” Taki felt a cold sweat. Before she could think any further, her foster father glared down at her.

“So, word of Mekki-Maru’s power has spread overseas.” His eyes brimmed with building rage. “That thief shall pay for it with his life!”

Taki nearly jumped back. She had never truly feared Toki before, but from the day after Mekki-Maru was stolen from him, he flew into a rage over the faintest rumblings of mutiny from the other factions. Mekki-Maru’s immense spiritual power was a sight to behold at his command, but he had already lost that. Without it, he wanted it all the more. Perhaps it had responded to his desire for power. Perhaps vital knowledge of Mekki-Maru’s abilities had been lost all those years ago and Toki had no way of controlling it. Whatever had happened, the man and respected clan leader who took her in and trained her to hunt and seal demons was gone.

“Don’t worry, Taki. We’ll organize a search party immediately.”

Taki shook her head. “Let me search for it alone. I know the area and I can track him from there.”

“Very well. But you’d better return to the clan—with or without Mekki-Maru.”

Taki bowed. “Understood, Master Toki.”

Toki waved his hand. “Go as you see fit.”

Without hesitating, Taki left to prepare for another journey. The idea of abandoning the Fu-Ma clan never struck her before, but she did not stay to see Yasunobe members filing into the house.

Out of all the Fu-Ma's factions, the Urabe fascinate me. They're a tiny, secretive group (numbering five at most) whose job is to assassinate the leader if their actions endanger the clan. Moreover, Urabe members are ineligible for the position of clan leader, which is partly how Toki ended up in charge.

Toki and Hachibei were both considered worthy, but unbeknownst to almost everyone else, the latter was in the Urabe. Hachibei intentionally held back and let him win. Toki, however, took that as an insult and held a grudge against him for years afterward.

Fast forward to circa 1590, after Toki's death, Hachibei and his daughter Chie return to the Fu-Ma after seven years of exile. Again, Hachibei can't take over, but who does? Chie.

Food Prep Tokyo