Ronins in Search of Master
Title: Ronins in Search of Master
Characters: KAT-TUN (4 of them), Sato Atsuhiro mentioned
Summary: After being replaced and driven out of their old home, KAT-TUN wander in search of death or a new master, in a land full of zombies.
Warning: Logic, what logic? English, what English? Plot?.. Well, it passes for plot with me...
They think it is a nice way to die: very quick, very clean. Blood gushes to the ditch, almost, but not really colouring (dirtiing) Taguchi’s boots. Not that he would mind.
They stand still.
“He won’t rise”, Ueda makes to kick the severed head. Fare and square, in a football-like manner. Football has not yet made its way to here, back roads of rural Japan. It has, however, already been banned in the big cities. Ueda has (Kame always sneers at the word) connections.
“You never know”, Maru picks the head up, holding it by the hair.
“It doesn’t wink, does it?” Taguchi asks.
“No.”
Kame fishes a plastic bag out of his normal bundle.
“Pack it up, and let’s go. We don’t have the whole day”.
The head goes in the bag, and then they wrap it into layers and layers of other possessions. If somebody searched their luggage… The head would not be a problem. The plastic would.
Kitayama gave it to Kame. Forced it into his hand, a small, weightless thing. In front of the castle, where (he insisted) they shook hands, in the latest western fashion.
Kamenashi had no way of refusing the gift, of dropping it on the ground, in the mud.
He hated Kitayama, for the first time, in that moment.
The plastic proved to be useful.
Kamenashi still hates Kitayama.
A lot.
Kisumai are not better than KAT-TUN. They are more, 7 to 4. But sloppier, less energetic, less ready to endure, less capable of raw magic, of welding not just the sword, but the elements of this world.
Kamenashi knows (even if he won’t admit), KAT-TUN are not better. They are only 4, 2 elements lost, patterns never complete. Their sword technique is worse, they rely more than they need on the elements, even in the normal fight.
He still can’t accept the decision.
“Time has come. I will replace my guards.”
Just like this, no warnings, no ‘thank you’s. They were out, on the road, left to their devices, their fate and their oaths. To guard and protect, till death comes or a higher hand relieves them from their burden.
“I mean…” Taguchi walks ahead, smiling as he goes. “Somebody will. They have no work for us”.
“Zombies?” supplies Ueda.
“Zombies are not work”. Taguchi emphasizes “not” a little too much. Maru turns back, hand on the sword, eyes on the body they left on the road. It still lies. Still. “There always were zombies. They are not evil, or something.”
Kame shrugs. Zombies are evil. He wants to be free.
The castle looms ahead. Even from afar they can see that it is not well repaired. The nearer they come, the shabbier it looks.
“I am not going inside.”
“ ‘Free’ as in ‘dead and free’?”
It is the last, almost the last castle. The last they have no knowledge about, so it might bring them hope. Here they have a slightest of chances of being accepted.
Or killed.
An ancient stone slides down the nearest wall.
As their luck would have it, the owner is dead drunk.
Walking dead drunk.
When he walks, he goes to the nearest bottle.
“You, fairy maidens…”
Kame moves aside. He is disgusted, but also curious. The castle is almost gone, the owner is dead drunk, they see some servants and no guards, no warriors at all. But the castle still stands, and the owner lives. In this country, where a younger son will kill and be killed, anything to avoid becoming a ronin.
“It is a nice castle”. Maru says. “Theoretically speaking. Location is good, it overlooks a nice valley. A lot of booze, so prosperous peasants. And no zombies around, for miles”.
Kame nods. They had to bury the head, some days ago, in the garden. It started to rot. “To rot” - Ueda has found the word in the castle library. This castle even has a library. And human flesh here knows how to rot.
“We may stay”. Taguchi says. “We only have to go if he says that we shall.”
“He needs to be somewhat sober to do that”. Ueda looks at the others. They obviously have discussed it with Taguchi. Tested the theory on each other. “If we live here, and there are no other samurais here, we are the guards. Not some filthy ronins”.
“He calls us maidens”. Kame objects. Not that he wants to go away. Not now anyway.
“Maiden guards”. Ueda smiles like an imbecile baby he is. “Maiden guards of the impregnable castle. The guards so good their master needs not be sober to order them around, the guards so powerful no zombie may breach the border of their land”.
“Maiden guards”. Maru nods.
Kame makes a show of being beaten. Democracy, sweet things.
“We keep our name”. He says.
“Sweet maiden guards”. Sato Atsuhiro smirks in the throne chamber, as other stone slips down, narrowly avoiding his bottle.
Characters: KAT-TUN (4 of them), Sato Atsuhiro mentioned
Summary: After being replaced and driven out of their old home, KAT-TUN wander in search of death or a new master, in a land full of zombies.
Warning: Logic, what logic? English, what English? Plot?.. Well, it passes for plot with me...
They think it is a nice way to die: very quick, very clean. Blood gushes to the ditch, almost, but not really colouring (dirtiing) Taguchi’s boots. Not that he would mind.
They stand still.
“He won’t rise”, Ueda makes to kick the severed head. Fare and square, in a football-like manner. Football has not yet made its way to here, back roads of rural Japan. It has, however, already been banned in the big cities. Ueda has (Kame always sneers at the word) connections.
“You never know”, Maru picks the head up, holding it by the hair.
“It doesn’t wink, does it?” Taguchi asks.
“No.”
Kame fishes a plastic bag out of his normal bundle.
“Pack it up, and let’s go. We don’t have the whole day”.
The head goes in the bag, and then they wrap it into layers and layers of other possessions. If somebody searched their luggage… The head would not be a problem. The plastic would.
Kitayama gave it to Kame. Forced it into his hand, a small, weightless thing. In front of the castle, where (he insisted) they shook hands, in the latest western fashion.
Kamenashi had no way of refusing the gift, of dropping it on the ground, in the mud.
He hated Kitayama, for the first time, in that moment.
The plastic proved to be useful.
Kamenashi still hates Kitayama.
A lot.
Kisumai are not better than KAT-TUN. They are more, 7 to 4. But sloppier, less energetic, less ready to endure, less capable of raw magic, of welding not just the sword, but the elements of this world.
Kamenashi knows (even if he won’t admit), KAT-TUN are not better. They are only 4, 2 elements lost, patterns never complete. Their sword technique is worse, they rely more than they need on the elements, even in the normal fight.
He still can’t accept the decision.
“Time has come. I will replace my guards.”
Just like this, no warnings, no ‘thank you’s. They were out, on the road, left to their devices, their fate and their oaths. To guard and protect, till death comes or a higher hand relieves them from their burden.
“I mean…” Taguchi walks ahead, smiling as he goes. “Somebody will. They have no work for us”.
“Zombies?” supplies Ueda.
“Zombies are not work”. Taguchi emphasizes “not” a little too much. Maru turns back, hand on the sword, eyes on the body they left on the road. It still lies. Still. “There always were zombies. They are not evil, or something.”
Kame shrugs. Zombies are evil. He wants to be free.
The castle looms ahead. Even from afar they can see that it is not well repaired. The nearer they come, the shabbier it looks.
“I am not going inside.”
“ ‘Free’ as in ‘dead and free’?”
It is the last, almost the last castle. The last they have no knowledge about, so it might bring them hope. Here they have a slightest of chances of being accepted.
Or killed.
An ancient stone slides down the nearest wall.
As their luck would have it, the owner is dead drunk.
Walking dead drunk.
When he walks, he goes to the nearest bottle.
“You, fairy maidens…”
Kame moves aside. He is disgusted, but also curious. The castle is almost gone, the owner is dead drunk, they see some servants and no guards, no warriors at all. But the castle still stands, and the owner lives. In this country, where a younger son will kill and be killed, anything to avoid becoming a ronin.
“It is a nice castle”. Maru says. “Theoretically speaking. Location is good, it overlooks a nice valley. A lot of booze, so prosperous peasants. And no zombies around, for miles”.
Kame nods. They had to bury the head, some days ago, in the garden. It started to rot. “To rot” - Ueda has found the word in the castle library. This castle even has a library. And human flesh here knows how to rot.
“We may stay”. Taguchi says. “We only have to go if he says that we shall.”
“He needs to be somewhat sober to do that”. Ueda looks at the others. They obviously have discussed it with Taguchi. Tested the theory on each other. “If we live here, and there are no other samurais here, we are the guards. Not some filthy ronins”.
“He calls us maidens”. Kame objects. Not that he wants to go away. Not now anyway.
“Maiden guards”. Ueda smiles like an imbecile baby he is. “Maiden guards of the impregnable castle. The guards so good their master needs not be sober to order them around, the guards so powerful no zombie may breach the border of their land”.
“Maiden guards”. Maru nods.
Kame makes a show of being beaten. Democracy, sweet things.
“We keep our name”. He says.
“Sweet maiden guards”. Sato Atsuhiro smirks in the throne chamber, as other stone slips down, narrowly avoiding his bottle.