Shadow of the Orochi

Prologue

She felt out of place. This upscale lounge smelled of steamed dumplings and fresh tea with noblemen and women milling about, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. Which already put her out of place since she was penniless as the beggars with just the clothes on her back and a sword on the hip. Of course, the only reason why she was there was because it was her job as a bodyguard.

It wasn't the best place in Nagoya city, but it was certainly better than the sweaty drinkeries that the bodyguard was used to. The sound just wasn't right. As much as the bodyguard hated those compulsive, old gamblers, mostly due to the fact that they stole all of her luck, drinking just wasn't the same without the patter of bakuto rolling bones in the background. Not that she was complaining since the drink she was chugging down like rice water was going down way too smoothly to be cheap. Luckily, her young charge was picking up the tab on this one. The kid just didn't know it yet.

"Hmph, how can you stand that bile!? We are in one of the finest chashitsu in Nagoya city, which serves the highest grade tea around! Can't you at least pretend to appreciate it?" That buzzing, prepubescent and presumptuous voice unfortunately belonged to none other than her tiny charge. "It's too hot out for tea," the bodyguard complained, gesturing to her kimono, which was practically sticking to her. Though it was evening, the absence of the sun did little to lessen the heat and humidity that plagued them. "Why don't you find us a couple of rooms?"

It was nothing more than an excuse to get the kid out of her face. In fact, any excuse would do because the constant questions and commentary was starting to bite at the bodyguard's nerves like a rat nibble on cables, just waiting to snap. Supposedly, it was an easy job that was as cut and dry as her profession with benefits, but this child was making he regret taking up the entire bodyguard business in the first place.

The pout that the bodyguard was so accustomed to seeing planted itself on her charge's face. The reply was muttered in the whinest way possible like a little mouse complaining. "Why must I do it? My legs are just as tired as yours!"

The kid had a fair point. They have been doing nothing but walk since the start of their journey. Horses would have been a godsend to have, but like most of the bodyguard's endeavors, the gods have forsaken her. Thus, the tiresome traveling by food was the only mode of transportation. A few weeks on the road was rough on anybody, especially the bookish types. Especially the weak bookish kid types.

The bodyguard didn't voice a reply and instead just let her hazel eyes do the talking. Well, eye since she wore a rather simplistic leather eyepatch over her left eye. Though it did little to hide the mottled scar around it. It was almost frightening to look at, but her other eye on the other hand, gave an uncaring roll to express how much she could care less for both eyes. 

It was uncaring enough to convince the spoiled brat to move along and leave her bodyguard in blissful, and slightly buzzed, silence for the time being. Trying to ignore the fact that if she tried booking a room at the renowned Eagle's Roost then she would be out of luck. Mysteriously, there would be no vacancies available...for a dirty sellsword who smelled like sweaty dashi broth anyways. Unfortunately she didn't exactly fit the flawless image of a noble samurai and didn't care to.

She wasn't even supposed to be here. The sideways glances from her fellow patrons did their best to confirm that fact. As pretty as her face was, it was the katana that rested on her lap that had them so troubled and distracted. No one dared to say a thing to her and that was the smart thing to do. So they just treated her with a mild neglect like an unwanted guest, or more accurately a stray dog. Their eyes already hypocritically judging her as a cold-blooded killer, which was fine. They were probably right and a job's a job.