The Daimyo was dead. The samurai who served him were now without a lord to serve. And as they struggled for power, they would become embroiled in a world of dark magic.
***
A flurry of pink blossoms whirled about Kasumi, intermittently guided by small bursts of wind; their petals fell upon her like snowflakes. Never had I seen the child kunoichi so calm. I accepted her offer of companionship under the premise that she was a semi-competent ninja, though I hadn't accounted for a childlike exuberance that could at times be stifling—if not migraine inducing. Yet here, amidst the swaying reeds and somersaulting petals, did Kasumi exude a composure befitting her years, and more importantly, her training.
"We have a long walk to Akihara," I said, my voice rising above the whispering winds.
Kasumi nodded with an unwavering gaze, a stoic expression that gave way to a softer smile. "I know; you ronin are so impatient." There was little shame in being a ronin, After all, it was less an occupation of choice than it was a statement of fact. I was without a lord, and these days, any man with a sword who denied himself the title of 'bandit' was a ronin; I was bitter nonetheless.
"I am a samurai. Do not denigrate me." I spat out the words as if they were stones.
"Alright, alright." My little kunoichi kept close to my side as we pressed onward to Akihara, passing through the rice fields that blanketed the landscape. "I have a question," Her voice trailed off, and she turned back toward me with a curious look; the silken, ebony locks of her ponytail bounced and bobbed as Kasumi tilted her head, walking all the while. "Is your sword really cursed?"
The question wasn't rhetorical, or asked in jest, for I had remained quite cryptic regarding the nature of my blade. Pondering the question, I rolled my thumb along its tsuba, "I suppose that depends on how you define 'cursed'."
"How about 'possessed'?"
I laughed aloud at that, a short burst that caught Kasumi off guard, though my little kunoichi wasn't far from the thuth. "Well, I wouldn't say that. It's just that-" I trailed off, my thoughts turning inward, then to the outer stillness of the surrounding forest; the world was so still that a cricket's breath could carry on the breeze.
Four assailants, wrapped in the shadows of the wood, stepped into view.