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Tajima walked gingerly around his men as they slept in the practice area of the school. The rains had finally stopped. Everything was in readiness so he allowed his men a few more hours of well-needed rest. That morning it was their task to stop a war. Plans had been made quickly, but they seemed sound. He and the Captain of the City Watch had billeted samurai through out the market area and the surrounding precincts. The silk fair would go on as planned, but each booth had a samurai in disguise and hidden weapons. The main focus of the plan was to contain the Hikiji attack and then crush it with an overwhelming force of numbers. Tajima prayed to the gods those numbers were sufficient to the task. The majority of his students were new, some had only held a sword for a month, but now they were called upon to defend their Lord and their people. Once the battle began they were no longer students or even boys. They were samurai and men. They would have to grow up quickly or die.
Food had been put out in his private quarters, but Tajima had to force himself to eat it. He loathed the waiting. It made him anxious, which made his loose focus. He had never been in battle before and very few duels. Lord Noriyuki frowned on such goings on in his lands. The wrong person may die was his thought on the matter. Tajima held no doubt about his skills, but he was concerned that, much like his students, they would be insufficient. He recalled all the times that he was bested by his big sister. The sword looked so natural in her hands, like an extension of her very body and the steel itself obeyed her mental commands. Tajima practised and practised and practised some more until he was drenched in sweat and his muscles screamed, all in the hopes of being a tenth as skilled as Tomoe was. He liked to think he wasn't jealous of his big sister and that she had been blessed by the gods with such talent, but it was still a hard thing. Mostly, because he was doomed to be forever compared to the woman. Oh so you're Lady Tomoe's brother, was the usual response once the truth was out. Now he was anxious for the battle to begin. He would put his own skills on display. And with each new layer of blood added to his sword, perhaps a little of his animosity would be burned away.
Tomoe was aware of what was being undertaking in the city, but did not display a hint of concern. She was busy that morning. She leaned on her side and traced the outline of the tattoos on Yasuhira's back with her fingers, as he slept. Tomoe had never seen such elaborate designs before. They must have been done by a Master and they were so elaborate that it must have taken weeks to accomplish. She was well aware of the pain involved in getting a tattoo, and so Yasu must have endured considerable discomfort. Still, they captivated the woman so much that she couldn't keep her hands off them and circled the images over and over again.
"You'll wear out the ink if you keep that up, my lady." Said Yasu into his arm.
She smiled, "I've never seen such designs on a nobleman before. Where did you get it done?"
