Feudal Pacific

15

I peeled myself from the blankets and opened my window, letting in a warm stream of sunshine that lit up my room. I put on a simple kimono and joined the others in the common room.

The chatter halted as soon as I opened my door. All eyes were on me, while the smell of freshly brewed tea and hot breakfast wafted through the air.

Serizawa's bloodshot eyes attested to the wild night of drinking he had endured. Despite his state, he greeted me with a cheerful smile and gestured to the empty seat between Yasuo and Isami, which I took. A plate of warm bread sat on the table, and I took a piece to nibble on.

"Have a good sleep, Tako-chan?" Serizawa asked, his words slurred ever so slightly.

I gave him a wan smile. "I did, Serizawa-san. Thank you." I ignored his new nickname for me, which meant octopus. I couldn't make sense of it.

He blew air from his nose. "Serizawa-san, she says," he muttered.

"Good morning," I said to Yasuo. He grunted in reply, still groggy from sleep. "Good morning, Kondō-san."

Isami nodded at me with a smile and passed me a bowl of fruit.

"So he's on a personal-name basis, eh?" Serizawa asked, giving me a wink and a sly smile. "Is that how it is between you two already?"

"Kamo-san, please," said Isami. "It's too early to start bantering."

Serizawa raised his eyebrows in defeat and went about picking his teeth with a fingernail.

After breakfast was finished, we readied ourselves for the day, donning our blue uniforms and buckling on our swords, tying our hair up in the traditional samurai bun. Only Serizawa let his long hair fall over his shoulders in an oily mess.

Our horses were saddled and ready by the time we came out to the castle yard. I mounted mine, eager to be out in the city. With a sharp word from Isami, we kicked our horses forward and rode through the gates into the sprawling city of Ōsaka.

"You know," said Serizawa, shouting as he was leading the group and didn't bother to turn his head as he spoke, "my father, Tsugiji, helped save Ōsaka Castle during an incident with raiders when I was a boy. It still stands today because of my father—one of Japan's greatest fortresses, even after hundreds of years!"

His booming voice roared through the streets, eager and passionate as he recounted tales of his father's heroism in defending Ōsaka. With each detail of Tsugiji's prowess, Serizawa made grand hand gestures and raised his arms in triumph, though the rest of us were hardly paying attention. Isami was unimpressed, his face scrunched up in disbelief and annoyance, as if he'd heard all of this a dozen times and hated sitting through it again.

We stopped in front of an imposing building—the barracks of the city guard. We entered and found a large dusty room. Several samurai were gathered around a long table. The walls were lined with weapons, lanterns flickered dimly, and the air was filled with animated conversation. At the head of the table, a tall man was dressed in red and black. His armor reflected the torchlight, and a bronze-horned helmet lay on the table in front of him.

When we entered, the man in red looked up from the parchment he was studying. His stern face was creased with wrinkles, and his steel-grey eyes held a hard edge to them. "Ah, Serizawa-san, Isami-san, welcome back to Ōsaka." His voice grated like stone over gravel, but his bow was respectful. All around us the other guards bowed in unison.

As he straightened himself, the man in red's gaze shifted to Yasuo and me. He bowed even lower. "Lord and Lady, I have not yet had the honor. I am Sadanaka, commander of the guard."