Path of the Kingslayer: The Assassination of Kagetsu Kiyo Section 2
- Sir Takagi Masao, 0 SE
{Copyleft}
Notes From Early Career:
What follows is a transcription of an interview of a Leftenant-Commander Goemon, a soldier serving in the service of the Imperial Army. As Historian of the Shogunate, I swear to my lords and masters that what I have written is the unaltered truth.
Thank you for agreeing to sit down with me, Leftenant-Commander. I understand that you are a busy man.
It is not an imposition at all, Sir Takagi.
I am one of the Imperial Historians and serve the Bakufuu in this capacity – perhas you may have read my book Raikages of Kumogakure?
I am afraid I am not familiar with that text, Sir.
Oh, uh, fine then. In any case, I am conducting living history interviews in an attempt to catalogue some of the events surrounding the Assassination of the Seventh Raikage of Kumogakure, and I have learned that you had some pretty early contact with one of the key figures in this story.
With all due respect, Sir Takagi, I have no idea what you’re talking about, who the Seventh Raikage is or was, or how I am involved in this.
Understood, Leftenant-Commander. What I am interested in is a particular incident from fifteen years ago when you are involved in the sack of Shimabara in the Daimyo’s service.
That’s a long time ago, Sir.
I’ve been told you have a very sharp memory. Photographic, in fact.
I’m sure that’s a bit overstated. But I’ll help you if I can.
Thank you. Do you remember the battle? Particularly, the involvement of two shinobi from Kumogakure, who you are witnessed to have come into close contact with?
*Sighs* Sadly, yes. Yes I do.
I’d like you to tell me about it. Tell me what you remember.
Very well, Sir Takagi. I’ve been a soldier now for almost thirty years, and I was a Leftenant at the time, having just completed my commissioning from the NCO level. I worked my way up from the bottom. I had recently joined the Fighting Lightning PMC as an Ashigaru and our Commander had taken a contract for the Marquis Amakusa Ryuu ro Kaminari to assist with the suppression of yet another peasant rebellion that had taken place a month ago on his lands.
What are peasant insurrections like?
They’re short, they always fail, and they’re always one-sided. I’ve personally participated in twelve counterinsurgency campaigns over my life and have never lost more than a handful of men in any battle. The reasons they start are always the same, too. A drought hits the land, or there’s a bad harvest, or the local deity gets angry and as a result, there’s not enough crops or water or seed, and they do poorly. The fief-owners usually raise taxes around these times to offset their own falling revenue, and of course the peasants are left with little. This tends to get the young men angry, and then before long, the tax collector gets hanged and mutilated in the town square, barricades go up, and an army, usually a PMC, gets tossed at them.
Do counterinsurgency operations often require the presence of shinobi?
Absolutely not. A peasant attack is a trifling thing. They have no benefit of officers to lead them, nor the basics of formation and weapon drill that even a new recruit has memorized by heart lest his sergeants beat him with greater vigor. Their weapons are a shoddy mix of pitchforks, rakes, and perhaps some rusted swords or pikes that were picked off a battlefield. None of them can fire a bolter nor afford the maintenance to keep one in even substandard condition. Regardless, they simple charge ahead. Our bolter-men can savage their numbers by half when they are being lazy, and the rest of the peasants run right into our pikes. I haven’t had to draw my sword for close combat but twice in many years. Of course we don’t need any help, much less shinobi.
However, for this battle, there were two shinobi involved, weren’t there?
Yes, there were. We were all curious about this, because we know they’re extremely expensive. When I asked my commander why the needless expense, for I am told that even the lowest level shinobi command the daily pay rate of an entire platoon, he replied to me that our employer the Marquis had personally paid for these two to “set an example for the scum” and demonstrate that he was the unquestioned lord of this domain. As if we weren’t enough.
When the two shinobi showed up, what did you think?
It was my first time seeing shinobi from Kumogakure. You must understand, Sir Takagi, that most soldiers never actually see a shinobi, much less one in open battle, and that there are many who believe their very existence to only be a myth. On the surface, they honestly did not look very different from any other nation’s soldiers. Both of them wore battle dress similar to what we employ, which is usually a padded jack with some load-bearing equipment, or a steel cuirass for the officers and those among us who are richer or have scavenged more equipment from the fallen enemy. The only thing very different about either of them from the way they looked was that they wore metal forehead plates with the symbol of Kumo on them, and not even over their foreheads. One of them was taller than the other, and both of them looked quite young, to tell you the truth. The taller one could not have been older than twenty. After hearing of tales of gigantic black-skinned shinobi gods in golden flaming armor named Shinbatsu, I was less than impressed.
When it came time to actually fight the peasants, what happened?
We arrayed ourselves on the battlefield in standard formation outside of Shimbara shortly before twilight. Boltermen in the front with pikemen close behind and cavalry to the flanks and rear to funnel the enemy into the killing zone. The peasant rebels were also arrayed in their excuse for a formation, chanting freedom songs and slogans and banging their weapons on their improvised shields. Usually you don’t have a battle like this so late, but peasant armies are crushed in an hour or less, usually. It was a relatively warm summer day and the winds had stilled, leaving us all sweating in our armor. Back at camp, we were already drawing up plans for victory dinner that same night. To our surprise, Marquis Ryuu showed up personally on horseback at the front, flanked by that sniveling Baron of his as well as the two shinobi.
“You scum are about to learn what it means to cross me!” cackled the Marquis to the peasantry, not even addressing us, and not that we really wanted him to give us a pep talk. He then told our commander to hold back, and sent the shinobi forward, alone. We all rolled our eyes at this point because even against peasants, just two men are going to get killed. You win battles with formation and drill, not by sending teams of two out to get surrounded and hacked to death.
The rebels now charged the two shinobi with the bulk of their forces, probably two hundred of them, mostly men, but some women and even children and elderly. Suddenly, the entire field started to burn as the shinobi made their hand gestures. Geysers of fire blasted from the earth and enveloped dozens of rebels, cooking them alive as they screamed for mercy and a nauseating wave of smoke from burning human flesh hit us all at once. Some rebel heads literally exploded for no reason, eyeballs going opposite directions. Others of them seemed to turn on each other, gibbering and hacking arms and legs off of each other as if possessed, even while their skin melted off in sheets of red ichor. The entire “battle” if you could call it that was over within five minutes. There was literally not a single intact human body on the field from the first wave. The rear line of peasants predictably broke and ran.
Having routed the peasantry from the field, we were now allowed to give chase. Our cavalry managed to cut down a few dozen of the survivors as they fled, but a score or fewer retreated to the actual hamlet itself. At this point, the Marquis ordered my commander to sack the town and told the two shinobi to assist as well. We all marched forward, trying not to actually touch the body parts strewn across the field.
It was now evening. The town was mostly in flames now, but quiet save for the occasional sounds of shooting which I ignored – after all, we were the ones with the crossbolters. I entered a nearby two-story house shortly after, and I admit that I was searching for loot, as is the right of any soldier ordered to bring sack to a city. The house seemed empty, and I had time to set my Kanabo down and prize open a nearby set of drawers. However, I then heard voices coming down the stairs, and reached for my weapon. To my surprise, the two voices were the same shinobi who had accompanied us earlier, who I had only seen at a distance before. I did not know what to do at that point. I had seen them both command the literal fire of Hell at their fingertips only an hour before. I dropped to my knees, only hoping that they would disregard me, which they did. I managed to overhear them speak.
And what did they say?
“What is this, a D-rank mission, Yuki-kun? Wasting our chakra on defenseless sponges so some inbred noble can get his rocks off?” said the shorter one to the taller one, who then answered:
“Actually, it’s a C, Kichigai-kun. And yes, the Marquis is paying Kumo very well to have us pop some balloons, so stop complaining.”
“Dammit, Yuki, we’re trainees for the ANBU! We should be seeking out and fighting missing traitor scum, like Nara Ryuujin!”
“Kichigai, be quiet. When Sennin Santaru Rin gave us our commissions, we promised to serve Kumo to the letter of the law, and if that means wasting our time out here, then we will waste our time and do it well.”
“I don’t get how you can be so rigid, Yuki. Ah well, it’s never fun tying to debate things with you. You’re the most straight and narrow person I know, probably within the entire Corps,” laughed the shorter one. “Hold on a sec, Yuki, I want to find a toilet…” he said.
At that moment, the taller one, Yukimura as I had heard him addressed, simply shrugged and turned to exit. Neither of them apparently cared that I was present, and I prepared to leave. However, at that moment, the shorter one, Kichigai as I had heard him addressed, suddenly cried out in pain, accompanied by the sound of a door slamming open. The kanabo was in my hand and ready to swing, but by then it was too late for Kichigai. One of the peasants who I presume our commander was looking for had apparently hidden in the bathroom of the house, and now had burst out. He was a teenager by the looks of him, but had managed to get his hands on a rusty katana and had sunk it into Kichigai’s belly. I was ready to charge in and kill the rebel, but before I could even move, the boy’s chest exploded, as if a bomb had gone off in his lungs. Yukimura’s hand was outstretched, smoke wafting from it like it had been engulfed in flames just a moment before. He rushed over to his fallen companion, who at the time was still awake.
“Shit! Ryu, are you okay?!” yelled Yukimura, calling the man by what I presume was his first name.
“Yeah, I’m fine… Uggh, I’ll need a tetanus shot. That blade was disgusting,” laughed Kichigai, although now I beheld a thin trickle of blood issuing from his mouth as he coughed. I don’t know if you know anything about battle wounds, Sir Takagi, but if a man is stabbed in the gut and blood flows from his mouth, it means his death is imminent. The enemy’s blade has punctured his bowels, and that even if he does not bleed to death, he will soon succumb to a fever and cataplexy.
“You! Search the house for bandages and antiseptic,” now said Yukimura, addressing me for the first time. I obviously was not going to challenge the orders of a shinobi, no matter if he is outside of my chain of command or not. Not after what I’d seen that day. I ransacked the house, and eventually came back with linens and some
soju.
“Shinobi-dono, shall I assist you with carrying him to the company surgeon?” I asked, to which Yukimura shook his head as he poured the alcohol into the bandages and held them against Kichigai’s wound, which did not have much bleeding on the outside.
“No, but thank you, soldier. Part of the rebel’s blade snapped off inside him. I fear that your surgeon’s help will not be enough. I will call my village to send Mednin,” said Yukimura, who was more, how shall I put this, gracious than I had ever expected a shinobi to be. With that, he appeared to dial something into his radio headset, which I was surprised to see – those are usually only issued to company commanders and up. “This is C2 to Command. I need a medevac from Shimabara township, please confirm.”
“C2, this is Sileo Command. Medevac units are unavailable at this time. Continue with your original mission,” responded a voice over the headset.
“Sileo, trainee Kichigai is severely injured. He probably needs emergent surgery. If no medevac is available, I’m requesting permission to transport him back myself,” protested Yukimura.
“Negative, C2. Continue with the mission until the timeframe is up. We will send a medical team tomorrow. Over and out,” said the same headset voice. I saw a look of incredulity and rage pass over Yukimura’s face, before being replaced by a look of disgust.
“Yuki, it’s fine…I’m good. Maybe just let me sleep it off for a few. They’ve got the town under wraps anyway…” said Kichigai now, patting his companion on the hand. I could tell he was starting struggle now. His face appeared flushed and he was sweating despite the cold air around us. Now the shinobi’s eyes met mine.
“Soldier, bring your company surgeon here. I don’t care how many others he has to treat first, this can’t wait. And make sure he washes his hands with alcohol or soap before he touches my comrade! …Please,” said Yukimura to me. I nodded to him. Our surgeon had saved quite a few men before, but usually those were cases where a gangrenous limb could be amputated or a bleeding vessel sewn shut. I had never seen a gut wound like this survive before, but I wasn’t going to question the shinobi.
I made my way back to the field camp and retrieved Major Takanashi, the surgeon, before too long, and we headed back to the house with the surgeon’s assistant following us as well. Although the Major visibly scoffed when I asked him to wash the blood and grime from his fingers before treating to injured shinobi, he assented, probably feeling that Yukimura was in no mood to argue. After all, the Major had seen these shinobi in action same as us.
Yukimura had clearly been active during this time as well. As he approached him, he had his hands splayed open over his companion’s body, a pale green light radiating from them and enveloping Kichigai’s body. But Kichigai now looked worse. His face had gone from flushed and warm, to pale and almost purple around his lips, and instead of forming coherent sentences as he had done before, he now only moaned or slurred obscenities as if drunk. When the Major asked Yukimura if he had given the man alcohol, the shinobi shook his head. We took off the injured shinobi’s armor and clothing. The wound itself, although bloodless, was now a horrid-looking crater that oozed pus, and the man’s abdomen was now grotesquely swollen, as if pregnant.
“He has a blood infection, and his abdomen has gone to rot. There is no surgery or amputation that I can perform to save him at this time. Even Penicillin will be of no avail in this case. I am afraid he’s going to die, shinobi-dono. I’m very sorry,” said the Major, to which Yukimura’s eyes flashed with anger, only to be quickly replaced by tears as he realized the truth of Major Takanashi’s words. He again dialed a signal into his radio headset.
“Sileo Command! This is C2! I am DEMANDING emergency medevac for trainee Kichigai! He is about to die! We have tried everything we can for him here! He needs the Curatio!”
“C2, we acknowledge. We still have no availability. Secure the body for transport to the morgue. Follow appropriate bloodline protection protocols. Over and out.”
“Damn you! Are you even listening to me?! I said he’s going to DIE! Do you not give a fuck!? Once again, Emergency Medevac to my location! The landing coordinates are… Fuck… Alpha Niner …Four Zero Charlie …Delta…dammit…” he stopped as he realized that for the last few minutes he had been speaking to the air. As he sank to his knees, the Major and the surgeon’s mate quietly left, having seen this same scene play out many thousands of times in the past. For some reason, I stayed.
Kichigai’s breaths now grew shallower and shallower, every lungful increasingly hard-won. Now the man was silent, even though his eyes remained wide open, almost grotesquely protuberant. Yukimura was silent now, only cradling the man’s head in his lap. Eventually, Kichigai breathed no more. I sat next to them, transfixed as if I had never seen a man die before. I have killed many in my life, seen many a fellow soldier die in many gruesome ways, but this even gave pause to my hardened core. I realized soon after that the sun was starting to come up. Yukimura now finally spoke to me, without meeting my eyes.
“Solider…you’d better leave. They’ll be sending a body-retrieval team soon. I don’t want you caught up with them by accident.”
I nodded and made ready to depart back to the camp, ready to forget all of this.
“Thanks…” he muttered.
“What’s your name, shinobi-dono?” I asked for some reason, despite wanting to forget what I’d seen overnight.
“I’m…Yukimura. Yukimura…Enishi.”
I left without giving him my name. I somehow did not feel right to burden him with yet another reminder of his companion’s death. As I exited the house, the first rays of dawn hit my eyes, which to my surprise were wet. I know not what became of this Enishi, but I felt sorry for him, even despite the horror he had wrought upon the peasants only hours before. He was in my estimation in that moment the loneliest man on the face of the earth.
My apologies, Sir Takagi, but I really do not wish to speak any more on this. I have been trying to forget that night for a while now.
I understand completely, Leftenant-Commander. You have my gratitude and that of the Shogun’s.
Afterword: I bid my farewells to the Leftenant-Commander and gave my thanks to his superior officer for allowing my interview to proceed. Many think of having an eidetic memory as a blessing. Indeed, for many people it very well may be, however for a warrior such as my interview subject it seems to have been more of a curse. It is hard to believe that this man recounted events to me with such clarity that in actuality took place fifteen years ago, right at the start of the second reign of the Raikage Kagetsu Kiyo, whose murder is what has inspired me to seek out individuals connected with Yukimura Enishi, the man commonly implicated in her death. In the interest of sharing this history with the world, I now proceed to the libraries of Kumogakure.
