"Sugoi…!"
A wide-eyed Bachō Mōki could only gape as she looked around her, taking in the vast starship surrounding her from all sides, extending over four hundred metres ahead of her and six hundred astern, spanning a hundred metres from side to side and bristling with (as she had just been briefed by a proudly grinning Jun'iku Bunjaku after she had been beamed aboard) eighteen triple-gun turrets that could fire both solid shot rounds and highly-charged photon-plasma bolts of energy that could easily rip apart any known alien starship class that she and Kōgetsuei had learned of during their travels. That didn't mention the anti-ship missile banks that covered every potential attack angle, a virtual FOREST of anti-small ship guns that could take out attacking fighters, much less the large hangar bays that could stow a whole AIR WING of fighter aircraft that could also make this great star battleship a flying space aircraft carrier.
Yamato…
Even though she currently used the Japanese on'yomi reading of the characters that had originally gone into the family name, given name and style name of a great Chinese general from eighteen centuries before, Mōki knew well the ancient names of her land of birth and what they meant. She also knew of the battleship, the largest of her kind ever constructed, built just before the Great East Asia War and later sunk in the last true naval action of that war. The ship she was on now, in fact, bore the pendant number 17, which reflected that Yamato's place in the sequence of dreadnought battleships that had been built for the Imperial Navy. Reflecting on that, she then smirked as she recalled the anime from the late 1970s and early 1980s, Uchū Senkan Yamato, which told the story of that great ship's resurrection far in the future to become the last living hope of all of humanity from eventual genocide.
And now…
"Mikoko-sama?"
Mōki perked on hearing her real name called out, and then she looked over her shoulder at the tall and pretty blue-eyed girl with long brown hair in a high ponytail, now standing by the turbolift door that would take anyone down from the commander's quarters to the lower levels. "Hai, Tomomi-san?"
Yoshino Tomomi — as her nametag read — bowed her head. "Would you like something to eat? Hiromi-sama expressed her concern that you haven't had any food since you went to have your confrontation with Torusuke-sama at Tomobiki High School."
Mōki perked, and then she blushed as her stomach let out a tell-tale growl. "Um, s-sure!" she sputtered. "What can we have up on these ships anyway?"
"We have a considerable selection of both Terran and non-Terran cuisines. Terran cuisines include Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Italian, American, British, French…"
"Okay! Okay, already!" Mōki called out as she waved the bioroid down. As Tomomi obediently fell silent, the Ryōshū freshman said, "A bowl of shōyu rāmen."
"Hai. What would you desire to drink?"
"Um, a bottle of Pocari Sweat."
"Hai. Excuse me, please."
With that, Tomomi walked out. Mōki watched her go, and then she sighed. "Bunjaku-san sure was right when she told me about these bioroids…" she whispered.
"They take some getting used to."
Mōki yelped, and then she spun around to see Hiromi seated on one of the chairs in the reception lounge part of the commander's cabin. Blinking — How on Earth did she GET here, anyway?! she thundered in her mind — the younger tōshi took a breath, and then she sat across from the reborn emperor. "Are they all like that?"
"Not all of them," Hiromi admitted. "Very early this morning, I rescued three hundred of them from six Niphentaxian destroyers that were attempting to reinsert observers from their 'one true faith' back into Tomobiki and the surrounding municipalities. They have things like names and personalities, though their experience is quite limited since they were forced to serve as engineers on those ships as soon as they emerged from gestation." A sigh. "I'm having them spread out over the fleet so that they could help influence the girls Onē-sama, Tsukihana-san and Ayami-san found — along with the spare bodies, like the one I have now — just before that whole business with Rupa started up. But I doubt they'll get far. Hopefully, when I feel the time's right, I'll go visit Nanban High School and liberate the trapped souls underneath there so they could merge with Tomomi-san and the others."
"Kentei's school, you mean?"
Hiromi perked. "You know of him."
A sigh. "Never met him, to be honest with you. Aniki fought him once when I was in the last year of middle school. He said Kentei's a good fighter." Mōki then blinked before she took a deep breath. "Can I ask you a stupid question?"
A smirk. "The only stupid question is the one that isn't asked. Please, ask."
"Why not call yourself 'Reitei?' It's who you are."
Hiromi sighed. "It's who I WAS, not who I am now, Mōki-dono." She closed her eyes. "I never matured as all of you did. Growing up in the modern age, then awakening to memories that were not yours, touching a soul that was not yours yet would become a part of yours over time. Learning how to fight, becoming very good at it and then accepting that you were part of some curious 'fate' that drew you together with others like you to replay events that occurred two thousand kilometres to the west of you in a different land and eighteen centuries back in time." She gave Mōki a sad look. "And for the most part, try as you all might to avert it, this 'fate' traps you in a grip of iron and ensures that you either live or die doing something that was already done in that bygone age." A shake of the head. "What sad lives you all must live. Look at you for example. Grieving over a lost brother and dedicating yourself and your life to avenge his death. Aren't you concerned about what happens to you after you graduate high school? What future you'll have for yourself? Have you even sat back and thought about it?"
Mōki blinked, and then she shook her head. "Not really."
"Well, I HAVE thought of my future. Even when I was trapped in the subconscious of Onii-san's mind, sharing his brain with a being that bore a thousand years of knowledge and had been effectively sentient for two hundred of those years." A sigh. "Especially in the last year or so, as Onii-san's lives have intersected with those beyond this world." She gazed out the shatterproof, pressurized viewports at the stars beyond Earth. "I've seen other worlds, walked on them, interacted with aliens from those worlds. On one planet, I finally gained the knowledge — then later, the chance — to finally break free of Onii-san's body and soul, then live my own life. On that same planet, I learned many truths about what really is happening in this vast galaxy around our beautiful world. And — especially after meeting Tsukihana-san and Ayami-san — I realised that I had a responsibility to do what I could to protect my world." She then sat back in her chair. "And if by doing so, I can free all of you from your 'fates,' then I am doing something worthwhile."
Mōki gazed at her. "Reitei-sama…"
Hiromi didn't look too annoyed by the younger woman calling her that. "Who was Liú Hóng really?" she asked. "I'll tell you who he was. He was the child of a local marquis who found himself thrust into the Imperial Court at Luòyáng when he was just twelve years ago. Could you imagine that? Thrust into a world where all your needs were tended to by willing servants? Where you were seen as the one untouchable being on all of Earth? To actually rule with the supposed 'mandate of Heaven?'" Her eyes then narrowed. "But he never really had to rule. No, he had court eunuchs that could take care of those things. That could persuade him that what they were doing was right and proper. And shield him from those who were trying desperately to alert him to the real world beyond Luòyáng's walls." A smile crossed her face. "Such as Lord Mèngdé."
"Sōsō, you mean…"
"Hai." A wistful smile crossed her face. "He tried once at a festival to bring forth his own worries concerning life in the land to me." A shake of her head. "And all I cared for at that time was how impressed I was at the fact that all the ladies in attendance that day had all fainted on seeing how handsome he was."
Mōki blushed as she began to imagine what might have been like, and then she sighed. "So why not 'Reitei?' Why 'Ryūkō Kyōrei?'" A blink. "Why Moroboshi Hiromi?"
"Because Reitei failed his people at the end. He lost the mandate of Heaven and millions in the years after his death paid the price for it. And for many of those people…" — here, Hiromi gazed at her new apprentice with tear-filled eyes — "…that suffering has gone on and on and on, incarnation after incarnation, right to this very day." A sigh as she looked away. "I've only been reincarnated once, Mōki-dono. And given the way I was reincarnated, I have no choice now but to do my best to help you escape what the magatama has forced on you all. That's why I refuse to be called 'Reitei.' That's why I used my posthumous name as part of my battle name with my real name in that life: Ryūkō Kyōrei."
She closed her eyes. "And because my life was for so long bound with that of Moroboshi Ataru, I gladly took his family name as my own. I became the family he needed, especially after she blasted her way into his life. A mother that screeched at him constantly, 'I wish I never had you!' Even for things that were never his fault." As Mōki made a face, Hiromi smirked. "A father who wanted all the weirdness to go away and not raise a finger to try to help influence things…or when he did, he only made matters worse, trying to take advantage of his son's suffering for his own betterment, as witness what happened when they gladly SOLD off Onii-san to her just to get a better life for themselves on Uru." Another sigh. "His mother's family wanted nothing to do with her or her son. His father's family had broken apart at the seams, with an uncle off who-knows-where on safari after safari, pretending he didn't have relatives. And a grandmother who lived her life alone on a lonely island off Hokkaidō, sneering at the 'city slicker' that her stupid son had married…and not caring really for her only grandchild because he WASN'T a girl and thus, could not be the new Matriarch of the Clan under the clan bylaws that were passed down over a thousand years." A shrug. "And where did that leave Onii-san?"
The younger woman scowled. "Damn…!"
"Well, it no longer matters," Hiromi noted. "They say Onii-san is dying, but he is with people who will do all to save him. As for me, I'll gladly ensure that he gets whatever justice he deserves for the years of hell he went through." A snort. "The parents. Left off to the wayside, with NO physical remnants in their home that they ever had a son in the first place. Even the pictures they had of him were burnt to ensure they could not look on them and regret. The uncle? Let him go on his safaris, but he won't have any support from us if he needs it." A sigh. "Thank the gods the grandmother died off a few years ago. No need to deal with her now. And for Onii-san's so-called 'wife'…" A smirk. "Sent back to her homeworld with her tail tucked between her legs and her heart shattered once and for all. And none of her 'worshippers' could do a thing to stop it, much less try to reverse it. Too bad."
"I hope he'll be okay."
Touched by Mōki's show of sympathy, Hiromi smiled. "He won't be the same no matter what happens now on Okusei," she mused, and then she perked on hearing the turbolift doors open to reveal Tomomi, who was carrying a tray with a bowl of piping-hot rāmen and a bottle of calorie drink. "Ah, lunch is served!"
"Hai, Hiromi-sama. Would you like something to eat?" Tomomi asked.
"The usual, please. Mikoko-san and I have much to speak of."
"Hai."
"Talk to me, Susumi."
Hearing her leader address her by real name, Bunken perked, and then she gazed sympathetically at the sleeping Koshaji, who was currently on one of the diagnostic beds in Yamato's sick bay, now being watched by one of the seven bioroids that had been originally assigned to this ship, a red-haired tomboy with pale blue eyes and tanned skin that was given the name "Sasamoto Narumi." Beside Koshaji was Genjō, a portable regeneration unit over his left eye socket, now watched over by a teary-eyed Shikō. Much to the relief of all the tōshi currently aboard Yamato, even the visibly-shattered Koshaji, Genjō's wound — which, ironically, reflected on what happened to Xiàhóu Dūn in 198 AD during the Battle of Xiǎopèi — was ultimately curable; when Narumi and her sisters had been liberated by Bunjaku and Kōgetsuei with the help of Moroboshi Negako, a "first aid kit" for Avalonians had been also liberated, which could also be used on any other type of human life-form.
Narumi had later been programmed to be Yamato's doctor.
"She's almost destroyed, Torusuke," Bunken whispered. Given that their reborn emperor seemed more comfortable in using birth names — and all the bioroids aboard Yamato pretty much preferred to us those names — the taboo about using only the battle names had been set aside for the time being. Currently, the leader of Kyoshō, Hōkō and the Three Pillared Gods were standing off to one corner of the room. "Whatever was done to her had totally taken away all of Kyoko-san's willpower, making her the perfect killing machine." A sigh. "Now I know why she was so deadly."
"Can she be helped?" Hōkō asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Obviously, with Hiromi-sama's informing Konatsu-san about what happened to Kyoko-san, the news is going to get out to every stealth warrior clan and school in Japan. Practitioners of Saikō Jinseijutsu Ninjutsu-ryū have served the Imperial House here in Japan for centuries. That automatically rates them pretty high in the world of ninjutsu, I think." She then took a deep breath. "Far as I could tell, I don't think Enshō either provoked it or knew about it, but…"
"He sure took advantage of it," Kōmei finished for his friend.
"Hai."
"Makoto-sama, you should sleep."
A grunt escaped the man on the bed. "How can I sleep with something as pretty as you looming over me?" Genjō said with a smirk as he reached over to grasp her free hand.
She didn't resist. "When you are properly recovered — and if duties do not require my attention elsewhere — I will sleep with you."
Genjō awked, and then his hand snapped up to cut off a pending nosebleed. As Shikō growled "Shame, Makoto-niisan! Shame!" and the other tōshi laughed at his reaction to her blunt offer, Narumi turned her attention back to the tricorder in her hand. Everyone then perked on hearing a polite cough, and then they turned to see Hiromi standing at the main door, Mōki beside her. "I trust Makoto-san is on his way to a full recovery, Narumi-chan?" the reborn emperor asked as she walked over to gaze on him, her eyebrow arching in amusement on seeing him pinch his nose.
"His recovery will take approximately two more hours, Hiromi-sama," Narumi helpfully stated. "We will engage in intimate therapy afterward."
Genjō croaked out, waving his free hand in denial while the others keeled over in laughter. "Then please have a good time," Hiromi stated as she gave him an amused look before gazing briefly on Koshaji. Seeing the damp cheeks on the ninja tōshi's face, she shook her head before walking over to join the others. "Was it Honsho-dono?"
"Unfortunately no," Bunken answered.
A sigh. "Pity. Oh, well." Hiromi crossed her arms. "If he would desire Enjō-dono's further services, he will have to personally swear to me that he will not do such stupid things like what happened earlier today ever again."
Mōtoku nodded in approval while the others gaped at her. "'Enjō?'" Hōkō asked.
Hiromi smirked. "From the Battle of Wǎnchéng."
Everyone perked, and then they nodded in understanding. A sniff then turned everyone's attention to the just-named Koshaji Enjō, who was now sitting up on her bed and gazing in wide-eyed disbelief at her host. "You would give me that name, Reitei-sama?"
"I would."
Her jaw dropped. "But I…!"
"You were MADE to do that, Kyoko-san," Hiromi cut her off. "When one is under the control of the Kon-Bunraku, one can't be responsible for their actions. Be assured, I do not blame you for what happened earlier. It was fortunate that I was able to sense the difference in your ki signature that indicated that had happened to you, then employ the soulsword to free you from its influence."
Enjō's eyes then went wide. "Are you the Black Death…?!"
"No. She is my elder sister, Moroboshi Negako-onēsama," Hiromi answered before a wistful smile crossed her face. "The Promise of Bunka Go-nen was fulfilled at last five months ago by Onē-sama's last host." She closed her eyes. "Onii-san."
Enjō gaped at her, and then tears of joy filled her eyes as she clasped her hands together. "Oh, praise the Fates that I lived to hear such joyous news!"
"Is that good?!" Shikō asked.
"If I recall my history lessons right, Bunka Go-nen is 1808 by the Western calendar," Genjō said as the others came over to stand close to then. "What's the significance?"
"That was the year the Saikō Jinseijutsu knowledge database that our past incarnations called 'the Black Death' became a sentient being in and of its — pardon me, her — own right," Mōtoku answered before he stared at Enjō. "If what I recall correctly about stealth warriors like you, Kyoko, you all began seeing Negako-san — especially after the death of Master Hosan in the 1930s — as the 'supreme master.' The oaths made by all her hosts after 1808 to help her be free to be aided by all ninjutsu-ka, regardless of school, if such could happen."
"Hai, Torusuke-sama, that's true." Enjō then stood up, slipping aside her blanket before she went to her knee, giving Hiromi a fist-in-palm salute as she bowed her head. "Moroboshi Hiromi-sama of the Moroboshi-Hana Saikō Jinseijutsu Ninjutsu-ryū, I, Ebisu Kyoko, chūnin of the Ebisu-Edo Oniwabanshū-ryū, declare my sword yours to command, my skills yours to use and my body and soul forever bound to you and whatever cause you pursue in the name of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor." She then looked up. "Are there others who also have allied themselves to your cause?"
"I have verbal agreements with both Mochizuki Konatsu of the Nagato Kenzan Kunoichi-ryū and Nagase Kaede of the Kōga Ninjutsu-ryū," Hiromi stated. "I have not asked for them to join my forces directly as I know they have more pressing obligations. But both Konatsu-san and Kaede-san are willing to pass on news of interest to me, as I have to them. Such as what happened to you." Her eyes narrowed. "Believe me, Kyoko-san, we will find out who did that to you. And that person will be made to pay."
Enjō nodded. "What would you desire of me now?"
"To stand up and relax," Hiromi then said with a smile. "And to consider an offer from me to act as this ship's executive officer. I have asked Mikoko-san here…" — she indicated Mōki with her hand — "…to be Yamato's captain for the time being. But sadly, she lacks both experience in battle situations, which I can sense you possess in abundance. Do you accept?"
Enjō blinked.
Blinked again.
And again.
And then…
"A starship…?"
And over she went! As Narumi immediately moved to revive her, Mōtoku clicked his tongue. "She took that quite well, didn't she?"
The others stared at Kyoshō's leader as we…
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(Posted Thu, 20 May 2010 03:42)
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