That day was the greatest Victory and the greatest Loss for his nation. Both armies were shattered and dead, lying at his feet, his horse triumphantly snickered, flicking its matted mane across its neck. Blood covered him; it was in his mouth, in his eyes and over his skin dyeing him a peculiarly bright rose. He chuckled, then charged through the rain screaming at the crows and flew above the river. He danced madly before collapsing into the silky water. That was when the rider realised quite how much he enjoyed killing.

12 Nov 2011
The next clap of thunder snapped him out of his reverie; he straightened his now soaked suit and stretched his shoulders back, rolled them in their joints. Another flash of lightning reminded Kato of his quest. The place in his dreams he knew was out there. Clicking his tongue, the haggard war horse trotted gently towards him. The constant running was having a visible effect; the burly rippling muscles were reduced and replaced with the sinews of stress and the once shining coat was now dull from lack of care. Kato mounted his horse tiredly, his leg only just making it over the large beast.

A worn, light brown leather saddle caught him and held him in a familiar embrace. The coarse woollen traveling coat hid Kato’s suit as he wrapped it tight, knowing that neither of them would survive another chase as intense as the last. Government Ashigaru were turning up everywhere, not even the most rural taverns were as safe as they once were. He chuckled lightly, a rumble in his chest causing him to cough. He never thought the state would spend this much money to find him, he didn’t believe he was that large an affront to their dignity as he was deemed. Head hung low, hood pulled up and arms drawn close he gently taps the horse and they start lumbering forward. It seems as though time stood still, their mutual exhaustion sapping their strength and sense of time.

Uniform stamping snapped them out of their daze, and they both tense, adrenaline began to surge through their veins. Kato kept moving, hoping against hope that they were just farmers who’d pay them no heed. A cruel god smiles as the signature Ashigaru uniform emerges from the mist of the dark, abandoned road. Toride and Kato do their best to shrink themselves, both begging that they aren’t asked for papers. Fortunately the Ashigaru seemed to be in a rush, as jogging past them the group of ten ignored them completely. Their grey cotton cloaks rippled in the blissful wind, the old road softening the clacks of the wooden sandals as the straw hats run over them.

Kato sighed in relief, murmuring to his horse, “That was close, if they had stopped us…” Neither of them needed, nor wanted Kato to finish that sentence. As the softened footsteps faded from hearing, they sunk back into their daze. The soft rocking of the horse lulled Kato deeper into his trance and his dreams returned to the field.

(I don't know how to do italics, but this paragraph is him dreaming)

There is an open field, extending further than the eye can see. Golden grass grows tall, swaying softly under the gentle zephyrs moving amongst them. Surrounding the plains are tall, sleeping mountains. Cold rock and grimy snow are blurred by the haze of dust that lingers over everything. The musty scent of pollen fills the lungs, the glowing mist warming them from the inside as the bright but gentle sun throws soft beams of light through the cloudy ceiling, and the soft clouds laze back on the blue ocean above, wrapping themselves around noise and disturbance, calming the scene. A quiet orchestra creaks under the grass, the crickets’ ensemble untraceable. A piano sits in the centre, out of place yet belonging more than anything else. The dark mahogany hood is lifted as though it was recently played yet the shine is covered in dust. The keys still are covered by the heavy lid which was locked shut…

17.11.2011
A loud neigh woke Kato up; they were reaching another small village. The road was visibly worn by the ages of use and the name of the village was long forgotten, the mossy sign clinging desperately to its rusty nail. Perhaps this was where they could lose themselves, thought Kato hopefully, but he soon remembered that this was where the Ashigaru came through recently. As they wandered through the ancient village Kato noticed that the fresh wanted posters still held him in his old uniform: a white, charming smile that drew your eyes to his mouth whilst the deep red eyes pulled you back up; a strong, chiselled jaw held his mouth and then the beautiful scar that tore through it all. A pang of jealousy rose through Kato as he saw who and what he used to be.

22/12/11
Kato hadn’t realised quite how long he had been staring at the poster, nor had he noticed the slight sneer that he had developed, what he had noticed though was that the villagers had started to stare. That was what shook him out of his jealous reverie and made him pull the cloak a little tighter. He asked the closest villager where the stable was but was met with only a blank stare as though the peasant hadn’t realised he had been spoken too. Asking again more sharply provoked a nervous, stuttered answer but an answer nonetheless. The stable was housed behind the inn, perhaps not the wisest choice, Kato mused, yet a stable was better than nothing and he slid delicately off his horse whilst keeping firm hold of his saddle. The fresh muck that coated the floor steamed in the cold evening air, Kato held his breath before breathing the musty scent of his familiar woollen cloak.

10/01/12
He shivered, the cold night running its fingers over any exposed skin, causing the hairs on his body to stand on end. He hugged himself and carefully made his way towards the front of the inn. It was in relatively good repair, the plaster on the front still white, the dark timber beams without rot and the windows without any damages. Though most telling of its age was the door, the great lumbering beast that guarded its master’s fort was taken from ancient oak, the heavy wood was pale from weathering but still held firm under any pressure, the vertical planks were tight together and braced by metal bands that belted the door across.

Its hinges were the size of two hands and had no difficulty in holding the huge beast up. A large mouth hung against it, the black paint peeled where thousands of hands had grabbed onto it, revealing the dull iron underneath. Kato’s hand reached for the same gaping mouth, the pale, elegant fingers hooking inside and pulling. It didn’t budge. Harder, with his all his weight he pulled again, and slowly the beast groaned and began to move.

Kato now understood why it took so much weight to move it, as the wood itself was lined with metal and several inches thick. The quiet rumble had alerted most of the customers, and their eyes focused intently on him. They had known he would come to the inn as it was his only option, and now there was absolute silence, the kind that unnerves the soul and causes a cocksure man to look back. But Kato, if he noticed it, ignored it. Striding quietly towards the bar he slipped onto the stool and tapped twice on the smooth grey counter. Most had had their fill of not being able to see the character, as he had still not taken off his travelling cloak and so took this as a signal to resume their conversations, knowing that in the morning they would be able to interrogate the inn keeper about this mysterious gentleman.

The barman, a portly fellow who had a charm about him that loosened men’s tongues, lumbered over towards Kato with a slight sway in his step. Hoping to pry some tale from Kato he took his stool with him and asked what his poison would be, Kato murmured and the barman paused, before he left and returned with a dusty bottle that caved in at the sides. The barman’s hand rested possessively on the bottle, aware of its rarity and value he intended to get as much as he could for it. A single gold coin dropped with a thud to the bar, the eagle engraved on its surface glinted brightly in the dim light.

The barman’s hand clamped down on it greedily, before biting it and nearly chewing through it. Amazed he releases the bottle and holds the coin together, beaming at Kato he brought from under the bar a shot glass decorated with a red dragon and slid it towards him. The barman had never seen what was in the bottle thanks to the black glass that sheltered the liquid within. And apparently Kato had no intention of showing him, as he slipped the glass and bottle in his cloak. Kato dropped some silver coins and talked quietly once more as he asked for a key. The ancient thing was attached to a wooden square that bore nothing but a pentagon marked in a deep blue. As Kato stood the barman did a subtle salute before returning to wiping down the sides.

Kato slowly dragged himself up the stairs, leaning on the railing; he hoped he would like what he found.
He reached his room at the top and showed the key to a burly man who was perched upon a grotesquely small stool, the discomfort of sitting ensuring his alertness. The large man blinked a few times before he stretched, huge clicks coming from his spine – the reports echoed in the confined corridor. His fist closed tight around the wood that he checks once more before regarding the hidden face in front of him, the lean figure that looked so feeble. It was not his place to question, not even to speak, but he had been here so long with not a single visitor, not even when the inn had been bursting was this door ever opened. So now he asked, cautiously “Who are you?”
“Who am I?” Kato scoffed, a curt chuckle burst out. “What business is it of yours?”
Kato raised his head, the hood falling back. His crimson eyes seemed to burn unnaturally bright, his tight lips curled in a sneer bearing his signature sharp grin.

The guard wanted to step back, away from this unholy man who he now recognised with a wrench in his gut. The eyes dimmed and his mouth relaxed “I would appreciate your silence, it would be terrible if something were to happen…” he stated with nonchalance. Kato gestured to the door. The guard, forgetting he had been holding the key, looked down towards the stressed piece of wood, small splinters angrily bit into his palm. Kato soon saw the reason for having such a heavy man keep the door, as Kato watched him straining against the entry, the tortured screams of rusted metal cried out.

The safest room in the inn, he had rented it as a safety policy years ago and was glad of his foresight. Once opened he walked in, surveying what would be his abode for the night at least. With a flick, he removed the cloak, hung it on the door and stretched, grateful to finally be able to stand straight. He stared at the doorkeeper again “What are you still doing here?” The words had more bite than expected and the poor man trembled before fleeing, closing the door surprisingly quickly behind him.

12/01/2012
Kato rolled his shoulders, glad to finally be able to relax after the long, hard months he had had to endure. Slumping on the edge of the bed, he removed the haggard suit jacket which still held damp from the recent journey. Throwing it onto the plain wooden table he sighed, deflating like a balloon. He knew he couldn’t sit there forever though, and it was with this thought of necessities that he went about preparing for bed. He walked towards the door, went slightly to the left and slumped against the wall with a slight thud, barely moving he pulled off his muddied shoes and stumbled off towards the bathroom.

He looked forward to having the first proper shower for a long time; his muscles ached in unison, as though to agree. Kato was unrecognisably hunched, finally able to release his forced, proud posture that he constantly maintained. He collapsed dejectedly on the stool, using his feet he slid his socks off. The somewhat ornate belt buckle that held his trousers tight took him more time as the buckle’s teeth bit into the black material determinedly; his refusal to fully open his eyes only increased the difficulty. Removing the last articles of clothing, he left them crumpled dejectedly on the floor; he had every intention of leaving those till morning.

(Ignore the timestamps, they were just for me to keep track of when i was writing, I hope they don't bug you too much.)


The bathroom’s oceanic mosaic floor and mirror began to sweat as he opened the hot flow as far as it would go. The boiling water flowed freely from the decorative shower-head, cascading down onto the large sheet of stone below. The mirror reflected his lean body; every ounce of fat had been burned off from the constant exertions. Ripples pulsed across his pale, lithe body. He shivered in the still cool air; his skin puckered at the few scares his body held, none of them were ever deep enough to truly mar him, curiously though they seemed to flow like ink. The light danced along him, casting the queer patterned shadows formed by the wispy smoke, steam filled his lungs, and he stood up straight once more then stepped under the scorching waterfall. A slight pink hue seared across his chiselled body, and a contented sigh escaped from his parted lips. He stayed in for as long as the water still felt like it had been pumped directly from the furnace. When the water finally began to cool he was disappointed that his luxury had come to an end, but soon got over it, it being petty in comparison to his other sufferings.

Walking out into the main room the steam followed him, its long fingers refusing to release him. He took his time, enjoying the glow he felt de-thaw his bones. Moving to the dark carved wardrobe, he gripped the rounded handle and pulled firmly, walking into its open embrace and delved inside; choosing another perfectly tailored suit. It appeared to materialise out of the darkness, it was the deepest black, a perfect vacuum of colour. A powerful aura emanated from it as Kato ran his hand lovingly across it, relishing the feel of the familiar material. Hanging it back inside he turned and walked to the window, pulling a luxurious fur robe from the stand nearby, he covered himself.

The village was dark; all was silent bar the occasional chirp of a startled bird, the stars flickering like candles on a windy day. A small howl pulled itself through the gently shaking window pane. Kato shut the curtains on it, silencing the nuisance before finally getting into bed. Stretching out under the luxurious silk sheets and heavy bear blanket he sighed contentedly again. He reminisced over the good times, when he didn’t need to cower like some peasant, when he was able to walk into an inn and not even have to ask for the best room. Well as they say all good things come to an end, though perhaps he ought to have exercised more self-control that battle he mused, before quickly shrugging it off and settling down for a good night’s sleep.

Morning broke early the next day, and the curtains seemed to laugh as the slight gap allowed a fearsome beam of light to lie across Kato’s face. He opened his eyes then slammed them shut. A sole word croaked out of his throat “Crap.” He rolled out of the burning line, and into the bedside table. “Crap” His head now ached, and as he rolled back the other way he swung his arm out, and knocked the metal jug of water and its platter onto the floor, making a racket. He swore loudly, his morning ruined, he was very angry and expressed it by slamming his hand into the wall, the plaster crumbled beneath the impact. Splashing some freezing water on his face cooled him down, and he composed himself, glad that no one had seen his outburst. Releasing his stress, he slipped into a red silk shirt before he greeted the black suit like an old friend.

In front of the full-length mirror he admired himself, adjusting the pocket square that matched his shirt. He clearly had no intention of riding away from the village just yet and without his uniform he looked completely different. He pulled a few faces, chose a soft smile and focused on softening his eyes, allowing his brow to relax. He transformed himself into an open book, someone who innately made you want to trust him. Today, he had decided, was to be a business day. He gave himself a sly wink and pulled a cheeky grin. He was sure that a certain someone was going to find him.

Invigorated, he pulled the heavy door with ease, tipping his head to the startled doorman before gesturing to him to shut the door. He sped down the stairs with ease, before sliding himself up to the bar before realising he had left his drink in his room. “No matter” he thought. He motioned for the barman and explained the situation. The barman hurriedly carried out his request, returning moments later with the ornate glass and dusty bottle. A malicious grin rules over Kato’s face as he greedily snatched the bottle from the barman, as he left the bar he grabbed the cup and slipped it into his left pocket. Walking calmly towards the corner booth, he slides the bottle onto the black marble capped table then slides in beside it, ready to wait for as long as need be.

He examined the bottle: its black and red lacquer top glinting, the crimson wax dripping down the neck unbroken – a testament to its fortitude, engraved above the label are the words ‘Invitum nos destromus’ their indentions distorting the light, the brown label below bears an ornate font not dissimilar to the work of medieval monks. Sliding a wickedly sharp dagger around the neck, he broke the seal - pulling the stopper out. He placed the glass next to it, and began to pour. A light gold liquid slid into the glass, glinting in the unsteady candle-light. The movement brought to life the scarlet creature that winked and pulled itself around the glass, the wings stretching out and high. Kato gently rolled the vessel between his hands, slowly warming it. His mouth tingled in anticipation.
17/01/12
A fresh breeze twined itself around the legs of the customers, waking them from the cosy doze that was created by the gently burning fire. As the door closed, Kato looked up, bright eyed and awake. The glass had been refilled twice as the fire had shrunk, no longer bathing the area with the same ferocity of heat as it had been. The drink had compensated well for that, a pleasant burning hugged his innards, accumulating like a pile of embers in his stomach.

Stopping the bottle, he finished the glass, and stretched back, sliding his legs further underneath the table with a hiss. The slow expulsion of air had caught the entrant’s eye; lo and behold it was who she had been following since she lost everything. She was certain that he knew what happened in Sakamura and she was determined to find out. Staunchly striding toward the inn-keep she began to demand the whereabouts of the destitute gentleman who rode a black stallion. As Toride was indeed minding his own within the stable, she was certain he was staying here. Kato regarded the woman, taking in what he could from her appearance. She wore a long, black, concealing coat that parted at her waist below the belt-fasten.

The coat was made of a material that shed water like a duck, but looked like felt – evidently she came from a background of some wealth though the lack of polish on her boots hinted at the position she was in now. The once beaming leather now was dull, covered in scuffs and nicks. Lower down the boots was a generous application of mud that clung tight, impeding her somewhat and leaving a signature behind. This displeased Kato, there was a large mat at the entrance specifically for this purpose, then he guessed she was somewhat blinded by her immediate wants. The contrasting weather outside showed itself by plastering the woman’s hair to her scalp, though the style she now wore it in was rather attractive, the loose dark curls falling to her shoulders as she began to warm in the tropic atmosphere. He nose was neatly placed, her eyes dark and enticing were almost perfectly proportioned, and her mouth partly opened presumably attempting to seduce the inn-keep.

Kato chuckled lightly, knowing how futile her attempt would be – he paid the man much too well for him to need to worry about the paltry temptress. Alas his expression of humour was short-lived, as with a glare she bore down towards him, as though stomping her feet would do anything. He turned his head only slightly, most of what had just transpired he had gathered from his peripheral. This irked her somewhat; and it showed in her greeting
“What the hell are you laughing at, you haughty piece of crap”
“And here I was thinking I looked rather fetching in this suit”
His response was laced with sarcasm. Kato intended to provoke her, he found anger often showed the true colours and abilities of an individual.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” she said, outraged.
“Oh I do so beg your forgiveness, princess …?” He left a pause, waiting for her to fill the gap.

She stared at him with a look of contempt before realising what a fool she had made of herself in front of someone she now had the time to really see. Kato had still not faced her, whether it was laziness or a lack of care he had yet to decide, it could always be that he felt cooler ignoring her, he admitted to himself. Their short conversation had caught the ear of those still sober enough to stay awake at such a late hour and he was aware that he must now watch his words, all it took was a slip of the tongue and he would have to be on the move sooner than he would like. He tilted his head slightly more, the white hair covering his eyes slightly, as they pulled themselves towards her. He was waiting for a response.
“Aelia, my name is Aelia. And I’m not a princess.”
“I know, look at your shoes.” He expressed his displeasure pointedly.
A red blush spread up her milky neck and flooded into her cheeks, if it was possible it would have dried her hair, so strong was it becoming. She walked briskly to the mat and took off the majority of the muck, before returning to his table, asking to sit with him. After mentally undressing him as she had assumed he had done to her, her eyes were drawn to the exquisite bottle sitting on the table and the glass that Kato’s finger was tracing the lip of, before it paused and gestured upwards.
“I’m up here” Kato smiled, chastising himself for forgetting the part he was supposed to be playing.