[Muramasa Uemon]

but the remains of dreams

---

For the briefest of moments, his dark eyes watched the sakura petal. Dancing gracefully through the air on its way to the ground. "Hold, friends! This is all a misunderstanding..." The squad advanced. "Uncle." Uemon spoke.

Quiet, yet gruff as he pulled on the bandage. "Draw your sword." A moment later, the petal touched down.

No persuading their way out of this one. Not anymore. Spinning his great naginata overhead, the burly samurai issued an order. "Apprehend them all! If they resist, cut them down!" All the confirmation Uemon needed. He turned his back and crouched down, swishing his fingers as semi-transparent blue threads emerged from their tips.

In an instant, the bundle on his back burst open. Two snarling hounds of black and white leaping outwards at a pair of samurai that moved to accost him. Kugutsu Totsuzen no Machibuse was good for a surprise... but only once.

Both dogs clamped down on their startled foes. An arm and a thigh in their jaws. It would keep them for now... but only for so long. Righting himself round, Uemon commanded them to tear and scatter. Blood sprayed. Screams.

Combat was rarely pretty, and fighting one's countrymen was never an easy task. Despite that, Yanosuke had drawn his own katana. Currently locked in a struggle with one of the samurai. Uemon watched as his uncle parried a blow and backpedaled. The man was skilled with a blade... but against an armored squad? He could only hope he kept up his training. Two men lay writhing on the ground, covered in crimson. Seven remained. The wanderer's eyes moved.

Just in time to see another samurai charging right for him. A hand fumbled for his thigh holster. No time to think.

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

fed on power lust

---

Life or death. A matter that, in battle, could be settled in the blink of an eye. It was why he needed to stay sharp at all times. Why his master drilled him so hard as a child. Thankfully, his instincts hadn't dulled in the past months.

Slipping a kunai from its holster, Uemon detached the threads on his left hand. Bringing the knife up just in time to catch the katana's edge. Then, sliding it forward to the tsuba, he pushed as he stood from his crouch. Sending a swift kick to the samurai's midsection. Not enough to do major damage, just to create space. Armor was an issue.

Whatever else happened, he couldn't get pinned down in melee. Or worse— surrounded. These men were no bandit rōnin, but highly-trained troops belonging to some lord or another. It would not be an easy fight.

A crash sounded as the ishizuki of the leader's naginata slammed into the ground. "Form up!" Commanding the field. Uemon's hounds had added an element of chaos into the fray. Yō managed to weave through their forces with only a few scratches, but In had part of her tail lopped off once he stopped controlling her. Threads reattached.

Bringing both dogs to his side once again. Even the two samurai on the ground fell back, forming a column of steel with their comrades. An impenetrable wall. Yanosuke for his part seemed to have cut one... but it wasn't enough.

Fighting them straight up was foolish. And their leader knew this. "Advance! Together!"

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

bloody clash of lords egos

---

Pandemonium. Hanagisa had always said battle was beyond hectic. And she was right. Using Sōtsuisei: Totsugeki he attempted to have his hounds rend some of them. Chakra hummed to life around their blades, impaling In and Yō.

The dogs' mechanical innards clicked and clanked as they were tossed to the side. Useless. "The Samurai Sabre Technique..." Something he never learned. "Uncle!" A shout as he glanced to the man. Yanosuke nodded. Then coated his own blade in chakra as well. Two against nine were not good odds... and without his hounds? Swordless?

It was about to get dicey. Before they knew it the squad was upon them, Uemon doing his best to parry and fight back with his kunai. Yanosuke faired better, matching chakra with chakra, but they were outnumbered. Outarmored.

Both men were backed down, relying on little more than skill and instinct to stay standing. A blade bit into Uemon's left shoulder but he only grit his teeth and kept fighting. Eventually tapping his uncle on the shoulder before leaping backwards. Yanosuke followed, creating space as a shower of Makibishi littered the ground between the two forces.

Only having a moment to regroup, the wanderer retrieved a small sphere from his pouch. "If they surround us, we are dead." Uemon heard his uncle say. "They won't. Shield your eyes." Whipping the orb in the middle of the group, a bright flash ensued. A Flash Bomb to buy time. He closed his own eyes, reaching for a waist holster.

A medium-sized scroll was unclasped, before he unfurled it, slowly opened his eyes, and ran his fingers over the seal on the parchment. Smoke erupted from the Kugutsu Kuchiyose no Jutsu. At first, silence. Then... 

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

no one wins this game

---

A menacing hiss. Billowing smoke obscured both Uemon and his uncle... though from within a massive silhouette could be seen. The squad of samurai drew near, advancing in a column. Blades ready to strike. The shadow lurched.

Shooting forth from the smoke with impressive speed. A giant white serpent, head the width of a large tree trunk slithered toward the enemy force. Expressions of shock visible on their faces as they steeled themselves. It was a sight to be sure... but they were veteran combatants. So as it neared, their katana swung and bit into the construct.

Only... it wasn't effective. Not as much as they hoped anyway. Uemon mimed a biting gesture with his fingers, the snake sinking its bladelike fangs through the torso of one man. A scream erupted. Blades fell upon the serpent in innumerable score. Glancing off of its armored scales or sinking in shallowly. He could feel his uncle's gaze...

...but his own was fixed into a glare. Filled with hate as the snake released its bite and thrashed around madly. "It is only a shinobi trick! Strike as one!" Uemon almost wanted to snicker. Trick? "Here's your trick..." Movement.

The wanderer's index and pinky finger extended from his hands 'bite' motion. Sounds of wood and metal shifting filled the air. Two compartments opened up on the beast's large neck... and two more serpent heads emerged.

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

the air is heavy

---

It was a veritable whirlwind of steel and blood. Samurai fighting desperately to fend off the fierce three-headed serpent, Uemon puppeteering it from afar. But none ran. Courage was admirable... but in the face of certain doom?

Foolish. A few of the group broke off, wounded from the snake's fangs and wriggling. Nevertheless they charged.

Right for Uemon and Yanosuke. Controlling his serpent with one hand, he reached into his pouch and dashed a Smoke Bomb against the ground. A thick black smog enveloping he and his uncle. "I don't need to see." He thought. "Not anymore." Opting instead to feel his foes, he relied on his growing sensory capabilities. Sight enough.

Enough to finish off these mice, at least. Several pangs in his head alerted him to the men's approximate position, and so he used his own awareness to direct his attacks. A few times, wild swings cut through the smoke cloud. 

Too wild to hit anything.  As long as he remained vigilant he could outmaneuver this encumbered assailant. Sounds of clashing blades nearby meant that Yanosuke was dealing with one as well. For good measure, he threw a few shuriken at the samurai before him. Unsure if any hit their mark in the smoke. Slowly... the pings began to fade.

One-by-one, the warriors fell. Still his fingers moved. Conducting this symphony of destruction. Hidden blades, a tail mace of senbon, Fūma Shuriken, clouds of sweet pink mist— all deployed to destroy them. A thrust from a katana found his shoulder, but his sensory skill allowed him to dodge the worst of it, only slicing into his skin. For a moment, the serpent stopped. Halted by something. Footsteps carried the attacking samurai away. Smoke faded..

...and locked in struggle with the snake? The leader. Naginata buried in its side. Fangs clamped around his shoulder.

Regardless, the other two heads thrashed. It was impressive he could stop its immense weight... but it wasn't enough. "Uemon!" A voice called out. The wanderer's fingers continued to move. Slicing. Biting. "UEMON!"

A glance found his uncle looking at him. Blood-spattered and half mortified. "It is over." The samurai, save for their leader, all lie on the ground. Some dead, others rolling in agony. Strangely, his own face hurt. Had he been cut?

Moving his hand to his jaw his eyes widened. Not a wound... but a grin. 

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

the air is heavy with war

---

How long had he been smiling for? He never smiled. "Yeah..." A curt reply as he fixed his face.

It didn't feel like he'd lost control... and yet. Looking around the estate grounds, it was a mess. Cracked and upturned earth, shattered pieces of armor, blades strewn all around... all speckled with crimson. Uemon frowned.

Pointless. If only they'd kept walking. "Why... are they shaking?" His uncle asked, pointing to some of the men clutching at their chests and breathing raggedly. "Poison." Uemon said. Moving to collect a downed samurai's katana. Standing over him he looked to the man. Face flush, trembling. "They are routed. You do not need to—"

A single stab to the heart put the man out of his misery. "...they're already dead." The wanderer said coldly. Pulling the blade out and moving to the next. "These men don't deserve to suffer." No. Not them. Others.

Moving through the aftermath, his gaze hardened. Two, four, six— how many were his? Yanosuke cut down a few, so the rest... "Who taught you to fight like that?" His uncle asked. "Poison is not our way." Uemon paused over another man. Coup de grâce primed. He looked to his worried uncle. "I'm no samurai." Another stab. 

No... he was not. Wanted to be one when he was a child. But no longer. "..." Silence followed as the Yanosuke followed suit, mercifully finishing off a survivor. All the while he felt the man's gaze on his back. But he ignored it. "You have changed... Uemon." The youth only nodded as he approached the leader. "A lot has." Too much.

The man was still stood, serpent coiled around him. Neither moved. Commanding the snake to release, its hulking form slithered away. Naginata still embedded in its body. Minutes earlier the commander had passed. On his feet.  

Yanosuke approached as well, standing next to his nephew as they stared. "He died well." Uemon could only stare, still tense from the fight. "He died, anyway." A cold response. Turning to his uncle, his gaze was like steel.

---

[Muramasa Uemon]

how can the gods breathe?

---

Wrath bubbling just beneath the surface. "Kira Yoshitada is responsible for what happened to father." His tone was harsh. But even. Steady. "That's why I came here today... why I need your help." The true business.

Even fresh off of a battle, Yanosuke appeared sympathetic. But there was a deeper feeling behind his eyes. Concern. For his nephew... and his health. "I understand wanting vengeance. Believe me, I do..." The man's words trailed off as he wiped his blade on the sleeve of his yukata. "...but this man is influential. Powerful."

Uemon watched as Yanosuke sheathed his blade... then placed a hand on his shoulder. His own dark eyes meeting his uncle's. "I hear tell he is not much of a warrior himself... but he has the money and prominence to buy as many swords as he needs. Not to even speak of his own retainers." A dire look was cast at him. Another hand placed on his shoulder. The wanderer could tell he was trying his hardest to talk him out of doing what needed doing. "Thousands of samurai, Uemon... do you understand?" Silence ensued for a moment. Then...

...he brushed off his uncle's hands. "I don't need to kill thousands." His reply. Gaze unflinching as he looked at Yanosuke. "Just the one." Reaching for his black book, he opened to a blank page and handed it to his uncle.

Along with a pencil. "Troop strength, location, allies." It sounded more a command than an ask. Realizing this, Uemon remembered who he was speaking to and allowed his gaze to soften. Just a touch."Please, Uncle."

It was all he could do. Yanosuke shook his head, closed his eyes to think... and relented. Taking the journal to scribe down what he knew. "You know I will always help you in any way I can. Only..." A pause. Uemon watching as Yanosuke glanced to him. "Do not lose yourself to this grudge." More hesitation. "Alright?" Uemon nodded.

Part of him wanted to scream. Or to tell him that he'd already lost everything. One man at a ryokan... at least five more today. With each life taken he lost part of himself. Many more would fall before it was all said and done...

And he... would have to face the consequences. "Thank you." The wanderer spoke as he retrieved his book, looking over the intel. Invaluable. Enough to start planning. "Don't tell anyone where you were today... you'll be safe if it's only us who know." Uemon told his uncle with a nod, starting to retrieve his scattered tools.

The man could only look around at the devastation. His look of worry giving way to sadness. "I believe we will be beyond suspicion." Yanosuke shook his head. The reason? Simple. "No man could do... this." A quiet utterance.

Lost to the wind. Before long the group departed, taking time to clean their clothes in a nearby river. Tend to their wounds as best they could. Uemon told his uncle of his travels, and where he had been. Of Hanagisa, and Suppa, and how he learned to fight. How to contact him when needed as well. They shared moments of fond recollection.

About Iemitsu, his mother and sisters as well. Yanosuke made him promise to not lose himself. Uemon tentatively agreed and the man hugged him. It was anyone's guess as to how his story would end... but he had to keep going.

Otherwise... who else would make things right? Uncle and nephew bade farewell, and went their separate ways. One with a deep worry planted in his heart. The other? A reaffirmed conviction. "Forward." Where his path lie.

---