[Muramasa Uemon]

in a land of woods

---

Moku no Kuni, the sky above it a purple-orange swirl dotted with grey clouds, the sun behind just beginning to set.

The nation was dense with forests, which made it rather easy for the wanderer to conceal his presence even nearby areas of heavy traffic. Dark eyes watched the screen of his frog puppet, Date, while the fingers on his left moved.

Guiding Tsuki, a small white rabbit puppet, toward his ultimate destination— a very public ryokan located in the center of a village filled with tourists. "What do you have waiting for us?" he thought, commanding the critter with his Kugutsu no Jutsu. To reconnoiter the inn before he got anywhere near it for the meeting that was to take place.

Ostensibly, this ryokan was chose as neutral ground by Masamune no Toyoshi, the heir to his clan, and related to one particularly obnoxious swordsmith he met in Nohara no Kuni. The Masamune was a family he was thoroughly unconcerned with... but apparently, the same could not be said for them. Word of his exploits had spread throughout Tetsu no Kuni, most likely in whispers behind closed doors. A young man with a scar on his brow, using the false name of 'Masamune Fudo' to move within the country, strange deaths occurring wherever he showed.

In more recent days there had been talk of one 'Harima no Ōkami', an alleged member of the Muramasa clan returned to prey upon samurai, flanked by a pack of wolves. "A ridiculous story." Yet, one he was content to let fester into rumor as it served his purposes. "In place of resources or any real base of power..." he thought. "Fear will suffice."

A powerful tool if utilized correctly, further burgeoned by the superstitions of smallfolk. It took time, but eventually the powers that be within Tetsu no Kuni matched these two figures' descriptions. Combined with news of a Masamune rōnin's recent slaying, all signs seemed to point to him. Soon, this Toyoshi left a taunting letter for him at the relay station he used in Moku no Kuni for mail. Having found it via the Masamune's vast network of contacts, no doubt. In it, he suggested a talk, hinting at possession of information about his family's banishment. 

Keen as his instincts were, he suspected a trap. Still... "I cannot let this opportunity pass," he thought. If it was a ruse, at worst he might waste his time and some blood. If it was not, then he might gain further insight into the mission he dedicated his life to. "Lie or truth— I must know." The wanderer was only ten when his father was executed and his family exiled from. He had no illusions about the nature of their age-old profession, forging weapons for killers...

...but if this Toyoshi truly knew more, he needed to find out exactly what. Through Tsuki's eyes, he watched people come and go from the inn. "He will have guards with him..." Samurai of his household, most likely. A disadvantage for him in sheer numbers, but if things went according to plan, he would not be alone. "...but I have allies of my own."

Minami Sora, a distant relative of his, and a powerful kunoichi of Kirigakure no Sato. The wanderer mailed her a letter of his own, asking for her help in a negotiation, and trusting that she would meet him here. Once his reconnaissance was complete, he would seal away Date back into his right shoulder blade using the Karada Fūinjutsu.

Having Tsuki hide herself near one of the ryokan's windows as a contingency. Soon, he emerged from the forest to await his cousin by the roadside. Today, he dressed in the old style of his homeland. A pale grey yukata, charcoal-colored hakama tied with a maroon obi, white tabi, and straw zori. A dark blue haori hung open on his frame.

One with the Muramasa clan mon of a tsuka emblazoned in white on its back. With the grime of travel washed away, a new scar extending from his right eyebrow to his cheek to accompany the old one on his forehead, and his face as rigid and unmoving as ever... he looked much like a samurai. In appearance, if not in truth. "Now, to wait."

As he did, he prepared himself for what might come. "If blood is what he seeks..." he thought. "Blood, he shall get."

---

SPOILER: Click to show

MISSION NAME: There Must Be Blood
MISSION RANK: B
NPC REQUIRED: No
RANDOM MISSION SCENARIO: Enabled
PARTICIPANTS: 2-3

DESCRIPTION:
Hearing that a stranger has been using their family's name to take action around the Land of Iron, the Masamune clan invites Uemon to meet and talk on neutral ground at a ryokan in the Land of Woods. Suspecting a trap he hesitantly accepts on the assumption that they may have valuable information regarding the true circumstances of his family's banishment. He must navigate a tense confrontation with Masamune no Toyoshi, the heir to the Masamune clan. Coaxing what intel he can out of the man while hopefully escaping with his life.

[Minami Sora]

Meeting place should be close. Sora thought, leaping from one branch to the next as she blurred through the forest in near silence, black-dyed hair whipping behind her in a tight ponytail. She was not, strictly speaking, traveling through Moku no Kuni on business; Kirigakure knew of her trip, but she had been deliberately vague on the details, managing to fudge the reasoning as simply "visiting a relative in need.” That Daichi had taken her words to mean she would be watching over the house while her cousin recovered from an illness was… not entirely her fault, not when she had never actually said as much.

Even with her falsehoods sown, she had been careful to ensure no one had followed her, taking a long, complex route through the interior that only a handful of Shinobi would have been able to follow her on, particularly at the pace she set. If anyone from Kiri was following her, they would be one of the best… and if someone of that caliber was tasked with tracking her movements, she had bigger issues to deal with. Still, she was fairly confident that no one knew what she was up to, not when she’d taken so many precautions- and even if they were suspicious, it would be damn hard to prove anything.

"The things I do for family." Sora said, her voice muffled beneath the bone-white mask that covered her face, its distinctive fin flaring out a good six inches over her scalp. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to still have access to her old identity- the Fuka mask was, by all accounts, a retired role that wasn’t handed out anymore, with her being the last. But, while she knew that, and anyone in Oinin-Butai would be able to verify it with a simple records search, not even the most informed of Kirigakure Shinobi would be able to call her bluff. And if they couldn’t pin it as a ruse…

Eventually, the forest began to thin out around her, revealing a long, winding dirt road, along which sat a bustling village; prosperous even by Mizu no Kuni standards, the place boasted a thriving tourist industry, attracting overly pompous nobles fro Tetsu no Kuni and their samurai retainers, though more often than not the two classes mingled far more than either side would ever let on. Uemon’s letter had been rather specific: he would be waiting for her on the main thoroughfare, wearing a dark-blue haori with the Masamune Clan’s emblem emblazoned in white on the back.

It didn’t take long for her to find him- even ten years out, her scout training was second to none, though it was highly likely he would have sensed her well before she spotted him. Still, she couldn’t exactly meet up with him dressed as a Kirigakure Hunter-nin, not if she wanted to keep things quiet. Landing on the roof of a nearby house without a sound, Sora flowed through the three hand seals needed for the Henge jutsu. She didn’t change her physical features, but rather layered the jutsu over her clothes and mask that she took on the appearance of a… less than reputable woman, an illusion that would only be ruined by a single glance at Samidare.

Not your best idea… but we’ll deal with it. Sora thought, sliding down the side of the house and into a back alley, managing to mix into the crowd without issue. It took her a minute to find her cousin -he didn’t exactly stand out with all the samurai walking about- but eventually she spotted him, looming as he liked to do, and made her way over, left hand resting comfortably on Samidare’s hilt. She kept her motions carefully lascivious, hips swaying just a hair more than was proper, sky-blue gaze bright and seemingly uninterested in the world… until, of course she was within earshot.

"Fancy place you’ve picked out for us, love." She said, voice soft and velvety as she turned to face her cousin, still maintaining her disguise; the only sign he would have that it was her, apart from her chakra signature, would be the fact that she looked exactly like herself, just with black hair, and the blade at her hip. "What’s the occasion?"

Muramasa Uemon Masamune no Gin

Jutsu/SA's/Equipment Used

SPOILER: Click to show

Jutsu:
NAME: Henge no Jutsu [Transformation Technique]
RANK: E
CHAKRA USAGE: Very Low [Continuous]
CLASSIFICATION: Ninjutsu [General]
ELEMENT: None
HANDSEALS: 3
DESCRIPTION: After performing the necessary hand seals, the user transforms their appearance to become that of another person, animal or even an inanimate object. This is considered one of the most advanced academy techniques, as it requires a constant emission of chakra as well as a constant mental focus to maintain the technique; suffering moderate pain or severe distractions will cause the technique to falter.

Shinobi are limited to transforming into objects roughly their size and their mass remains unaffected. Furthermore, this transformation is purely a shift in their physical appearance, conveying no specialized abilities of the person, animal, or object to the user upon their transformation. Transforming into a wolf does not grant a more keen nose nor would changing into a bear grant a sudden increase in strength.

Special Abilities:
The Kunoichi That Goes On And On And On… [Endurance SA]
Perhaps part of her genetics or simply a random quirk of fate, Sora is unnaturally resilient, be it to physical pain or the toils of extended combat. While most Shinobi would collapse in exhaustion at having used all but the smallest sliver of their chakra reserves, she pushes on; while most Shinobi would wilt beneath the weight of sleepless night after sleepless night, she keeps going. This does not mean she does not feel pain/the strain of extended combat, but rather that her threshold for shutting down because of it is far higher than others. To give an example, if she were to be stabbed through her abdomen, she would still feel the pain of the injury, and it would hinder her ability to move/act, but it wouldn’t stop her, whereas a normal ninja might freeze up or shut down from the pain.

Bet You Didn’t See That Coming [Speed SA]
A byproduct of her enhanced endurance, Sora (despite what many would think) dislikes being injured- and with that dislike comes the intense desire to avoid getting hurt, a desire that has pushed her to hone her body until it could move faster than most others of her rank. In short, Sora is fast- very, very fast.

POWAH! UNLIMITED POWAH!! [Chakra Reserves SA]
After a lifetime of utilizing nearly every ounce of chakra in her body just to survive, Sora’s chakra reserves have expanded a considerable amount to compensate- while she’s no Jinchuuriki, her ability to toss out jutsu after jutsu and still have enough chakra to keep going is quite remarkable, a testament to just how much of the stuff she actually has.

I Am Not Left-Handed [Kenjutsu Mastery SA]
Sora is not merely a Kenjutsu specialist- she is a master when it comes to the art of the sword; after over two decades of training, her skills are unrivaled within Kirigakure, falling short only to the Seven Swordsman themselves… some of them, anyway. This mastery allows her a distinct advantage when fighting other Bukijutsu specialists of similar or lesser rank.

If You Try For Speed, You Do Not Achieve Speed [Bukijutsu Speed SA]
Beyond being a master of Kenjutsu, Sora has practiced for decades to become the faster swordswoman she can be. As such, her Kenjutsu techniques come out faster and move quicker than those performed by others of her rank.

Equipment: Samidare | Spring Rain Blade (Drawn)
SA’s
Unbreakable
Whatever metal and forging process was used in the creation of Samidare, it worked; Samidare is utterly unbreakable by most any means, capable of being engulfed in an S-Rank Jutsu and remaining unscathed. Though it is possible that the blade could potentially be broken by a sufficiently powerful attack (such as, say, a Bijuu-dama), this has never been tested, so it is not known if it would survive.

Sharper Than Your Average Blade
Due to its nature as an unbreakable blade, Samidare bears a cutting edge that is of particular note, which allows it to slice through even steel with little in the way of resistance, so long as the proper force is applied. Additionally, this edge never needs to be resharpened, as it never grows dull or rolls, thus making it perfect for frontline combat.

Light as Spring Rain
Perhaps a quirk of its forging (or perhaps an intentional feature), Samidare is considerably lighter than a blade its size and length ought to be; while this would normally result in a less effective weapon, Samidare loses none of its integrity or cutting power, as it is somehow able to leverage the same amount of force through less mass. This lightness allows the user to swing the weapon about with much greater speed for the same amount of physical exertion.

Chakra Conduction
Being Chakra Conductive, Samidare is capable of channeling all types of Chakra for use in Bukijustu, and, more particularly, it has a slight affinity for Raiton chakra thanks to Sora’s constant use of the blade for that purpose. This affinity does not do anything of real note, but it does feel as if the blade were more eager to drink in Raiton Chakra than other types.

[Masamune no Gin]

Gin covered an exaggerated yawn with the sleeve of her formal kimono, sitting properly in seiza. Between her hair being pinned up, the rather dark and plain kimono, and where she sat at the table, she was putting forward a relatively masculine image. She was kyoshō; not some lady-in-waiting. Or, perhaps more accurately, the image of a pretender or challenger to the role of geir. Not that she would admit to any such ambition, of course. But, if she was going to be dragged away from her most recent project to deal with family business, she would use that chance to project power and authority, even if only in perception.

Did she want the title of Katoku? Perhaps. She was too engrossed in her current work to make moves either way, but maintaining the uncertain status quo in the meantime would swerve her well, no matter her ambitions in the end.

And it was a way to amuse herself. Gin was, in a word, bored. She wanted to be back in the smithy, trying to turn the dreams of these shinobi into tangible weapons. A grueling and difficult commission, even for one with her peerless skill and talent. How could she not get excited at the notion of these masterful blades, all bearing her mon and maker's mark, spreading her fame even further?

But, for now, she was here to play diplomat. To help represent their clan while her father remained in the homeland. How tiresome.

"Kentei," Gin addressed Toyoshi, her brother, formally, though the tone carried little deference. A chance to remind him that she was his elder, both in age and in craftsmanship, without being blatantly disrespectful. "I am aware that the slaying of a kinsman - even a wayward one - requires a response. But surely the heir apparent has other matters to attend to? As your older sister, I would be willing to shoulder this burden for you. It would not do to have the Katoku outshone too thoroughly by a mere kyoshō, after all." Playing politics wasn't her favorite game, but she needed something to alleviate the boredom.

Though perhaps the Muramasa would be entertaining, once they designed to arrive. Or at least distracting.

[Ronin]

An orange eye slowly opened, the orb half-squinted as it swiveled to the side to gaze out of the corner of its owner's gaze at the woman who had just spoken. Then the eye closed again, and Masamune no Toyoshi sighed, the gesture slightly exaggerated to indicate his displeasure, although this displeasure was apparently something more of a mild irritation, an inconvenience. He was seated cross-legged, eyes closed and hands in his lap, striking an image (or so he hoped) of serenity and yet business-like determination.

"The heir apparent will choose whatever matters he deems important to attend to, dear sister," he replied, the last two words almost spat out with a sneer. It was clear Gin's address had gotten under his skin. "You are too kind, however, to offer to shoulder my responsibilities for me, but I'm afraid you are a little too presumptuous. The moon, no matter how elegantly it flows across the night sky, cannot in any guise outshine the sun." That last figure of speech was thrown out with thinly veiled braggadocio; Toyoshi was obviously pleased with his on-the-spot thought-up adage.

The young man finally opened both eyes and turned his head to face the woman seated seiza beside him, who bore the same hue of hair and eyes to indicate that they were of the same blood. His expression was serious. "The slaying of a kinsman is a heavy matter. I do not see why I, the Katoku, should deem serious matters such as that as unimportant." From his tone of voice, it was clear he loved either calling himself, or being addressed, by his official clan title. "But I'm sure you're oh-so-wise, dearest sister, as you spare no expenses to remind me of your elderhood. Pray, what insightful suggestions would you have for your little brother?" Obvious sarcasm dripped off his words.

Although Toyoshi had been here to meet with a Masamune impostor who had killed a clanswoman of his, he did not feel nervous about the meeting. True, he was young and a bit wet behind the ears, but he was no stranger to using the sword which rested sheathed in his belt. Also, the three burly men behind him and Gin, who stood with folded arms and swords in their belts as well, would defend the heir apparent of their clan with their lives. Even though the man he was supposed to meet was a half-brother. Interesting what inimical siblings he had.

Okada Muramasa | Minami Sora | Masamune no Gin

[Muramasa Uemon]

conflict stirs, centuries-old

---

Before long, he felt the pang of a familiar chakra signature enter his range. "Sora," he recognized almost immediately, refraining from looking in her direction. She was moving fast, and there were other factors at play here.

Notably, whether or not she had permission to be here, and whether or not Kirigakure had sent one or more of its ninja to watch over these events. "I wonder..." A line of thought trailed as he waited, allowing her to find him rather than the other way around. "She's dutiful, for certain, but she also does not seem the type to let orders keep her from doing what she believes is right." He recalled a conversation they had when they met, about the Shinobi World and its many, many ills.

Minami Sora was not the typical shinobi— not by a long shot. "Especially when matters concern family." Allies, for him, were few and far between... so it was nice to have someone to rely on. Before long a familiar voice sounded out...

Though, the woman's words struck him as odd, and when he turned to face her, his face went deadpan. "A... disguise?" It was the only assumption he could make, given the sight. Her locks were a different shade, her clothes were distinctly uncharateristic, but her face, sword, and chakra signature told him all he needed to know. "Smart."

Unfortunately, he had never been much of an actor. "A... rather dull business affair, unfortunately..." he replied, his eyes softening a touch even as he scrambled to play his role. "...dear." It was not much, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances. The wanderer offered her the crook of his arm, and then began to walk towards the ryokan. "You look well," he said, shifting his gaze to her darkened hair. "Nice touch." Considering his past affiliations, being seen with someone of her apparent profession would not appear out of the ordinary.

Truthfully, he preferred the company of the lower classes. These days, he was not much more than a rogue himself... and in his experience, at least yūjo and akutô were honest about what they wanted. Once they were on the move, his eyes turned frontward, his face swiftly losing any hint of warmth the sight of his cousin had stoked.

He needed to get her up to speed before they arrived. "The Masamune clan asked me here." He began to explain. Now, his voice was quiet, barely a mutter above the crowd's noise. His speech patterns had returned to what they used to be, as they did during times of duress. Beyond that... he looked harder. And along with his new facial scar, some bandages were wrapped loosely around his right hand, barely concealing some recent burn that was still healing. Much had changed since they last saw one another. "It seems they have taken exception to my usage of their name while I... deal with matters in Tetsu no Kuni." Deal with them via skulking, interrogating, and killing was what he meant, but he trusted Sora to understand. They knew who each other were. It was one of the things they discussed during their unlikely reunion. "One of their number— a rōnin, is also dead by my hand."

Uemon remembered her face... but he could not recall her name, or even if she had told him. Perhaps she thought him unworthy to know it, as samurai tended to do. A sentiment that was proven false when he took her life, however dishonorably. "I expect some sort of ruse, but..." a trailed word, his eyes narrowing as they continued to walk. "Toyoshi, their heir, claims to have information 'of note' about our family's banishment." It was most likely little more than a lie, some bait to dangle to unsettle him, and to draw him here where he was vulnerable.

Only, he was never truly unarmed, and now that Sora was here... "She is blade enough for them all, should it come to that." Uemon kept on as they drew nearer to the building. "I scouted ahead," he began, glancing to his cousin, his face steeled. "They have three guards with them, five in total to our two." Tsuki and Date provided him with enough intel, and the white rabbit still lied in wait. "I did not come for a skirmish, but if need be..." He let his words hang, knowing she would take his meaning. Soon enough, they were standing near the entrance to the inn.

Uemon glanced up at the sign, taking a long, deep breath before turning once more to Sora. "Thank you," he said to her. "For being here. It... means more than I can say." As with all things shinobi-related, matters regarding other nations were never simple. He could only hope this would not jeopardize her position within her village, and trust her to know what was best for her The wanderer turned to enter, then paused. "Also, fair warning..." Another glance, over his shoulder at her. "...these people are smug, and insufferable." It was only right to let her know beforehand. Uemon slid the door open and stepped into the genkan, depositing his zori neatly there.

It took only informing the hostess he was here to see the Masamune before she nodded politely and pointed them in the right direction. A private room located in the rear of the establishment. Uemon thanked her and slowly made his way to its door, placing his bandaged hand on its handle. He had nothing to worry about with Sora at his side...

...except he could not shake the feeling that something awful was about to happen. The wanderer slid open the door, then stepped inside, dark eyes scanning the faces present. His gaze lingered on Gin... "..." Then he ignored her. "Masamune no Toyoshi," he greeted the heir, neither bowing nor using honorifics. "I received your letter."

---

[Minami Sora]

Uemon’s reaction to her appearance was rather telling; he recognized her, certainly, no matter how thrown off by the Henge he was, but the awkwardness in his tone and cadence would need work. No self-respecting Shinobi in her family was going to be that bad at acting, not if she had anything to say about it. Taking her cousin’s offered arm with a demure grin, the disguised Jounin pulled herself close, a bit too close in truth, her hips swaying slightly as they walked and talked. Or, he talked. She walked… and listened.

"I see." She said after a long moment, her lips pursing together as she scanned the crowd, on alert without looking like she was anything other than a simple woman of the night. There were a lot of factors that went into political actions, and if her time in the Hunter Corps had taught her anything, it was that sometimes people in power did things for purely petty reasons. She had no clue who these people were, but their position in Tetsu no Kuni was no doubt one of at least some influence, to be able to afford such a trip to deal with something as small as a single dead ronin.

"If it comes to that, I can handle the boys just fine." Sora said, giving her cousin a gentle pat on the arm as they walked towards the genkan. Outwardly, she looked the same as before, her clothes too loose, showing far too much skin and far from appropriate, but inwardly… inwardly she was a blade, drawn and bared, ready to cut and kill the moment she needed to. "And don’t mention it. It’s what family is for."

It didn’t take long for them to learn where the man they sought was- a private room in the back of the establishment, sectioned off from the rest of the building and rather isolated. The perfect place to hold a clandestine meeting- or perform an illegal execution. Something is definitely off here. No way this guy comes all the way out here for one dead ronin. She gave the pair of Masamune a quick glance, her expression taking on a seemingly fearful cast as she stepped back from her cousin’s arm, eyes looking for and finding the guards stationed around the room, already mapping out her route if things got bloody.

Muramasa Uemon

[Masamune no Gin]

"Better to be a moon and reflect the glory of our founder than an aberrant sun." Gin smiled pleasantly, despite the traded barbs. Both to maintain the genteel expression necessary for times such as these, but also to deny Toyoshi any satisfaction. It wasn't a bad attempt, truthfully. But it rang hollow from someone who was her lesser in everything that mattered - skill in a forge, age, and wisdom. Let him play samurai with her father and the less cultured of their kin. "I would advise you, Kentei, to spend more time with a hammer than a sword... but as for the matter at hand, you're already here, so withdrawing would merely tarnish your honor." Gin tapped her chin in thought. "The protections of the bakufu's law do not extend here. If this man is truly a slayer of one of our kin, why not force him to commit seppuku, or simply take his head? Surely no great task for the illustrious sun of the Masamune." As much as she loved and held affection for her brother, seeing him fail would be satisfying.

Then their guests arrived. And one of them was familiar to her. Despite being snubbed, Gin grinned. Perhaps this would be more fun than she thought.

"Still determined to maintain your clan's reputation as mannerless merchants of death, are we, Muramasa Uemon?" She cut into affairs smoothly, nodding her head to the unfamiliar woman at Uemon's side. At least acknowledging her existence. Whoever she was. "And yet you're here. I could have a sheet prepared, if you intend to atone for your misdeeds by means of seppuku. You could even use your new blade!"

[Ronin]

Toyoshi grimaced at Gin's adage riposte. He was about to reply quickly, when a thought came to mind. If she wanted to spar with adages, he was quite certain he could keep up. He was, after all, just as sharp in mind (or so he thought) as the blade resting in his obi. "An aberrant sun yet dispels darkness on its own, but a moon must depend on another." There was a pause, as a rather self-satisfied and smug expression descended on his face. Then he leaned backwards towards one of the guards standing by, and whispered, "write that down." Surely, such an awesome tidbit of wisdom had to be documented for posterity.

Gin, spitfire that she was, still had other choice words for him. He had to admit, despite his 'superior' intelligence, she still knew how to get under his skin. Toyoshi was about to reply, when sounds outside indicated their guests had arrived. He shot his sister a glare of daggers, and then turned to face the entrance, composing himself as befitted an illustrious clan heir. The door slid open, and in came Uemon. Toyoshi remained silent, trying to see if he could glean anything from the boy's face: uncertainty, fear, worry, perhaps. He could not. However, he did note that Uemon did not seem to acknowledge Gin when he spoke, even if that brat's address of him required some more respect. This slight towards Gin pleased Toyoshi enough to prevent him from complaining about the less-than-stellar greeting.

Uemon had not come alone. The one with him was a beauty, perhaps of an occupation that the Masamune heir would not normally feel comfortable about interacting with in public, but his gaze did linger a bit-- perhaps more than could be counted as cursory-- on her. He noted that she seemed afraid, unlike Uemon, but Toyoshi was no fool. He surmised that Uemon would not bring a defenseless sweetheart to a meeting which could result in a fight. Besides, the woman had a weapon. She was dangerous, probably more so than Uemon. Gin, not as blessed as he was with intelligence, had probably not noticed this, he surmised with self-satisfaction, but there was no need to yet inform anyone of what he had so intelligently divined.

And then Gin started flapping her gums. The displeasure was quite visible on Toyoshi's face, even though he tried to retain a composed and unruffled exterior. "Gods, woman," he hissed, forgetting to be polite "that tongue of your will do you more harm than good in the long run." Then, remembering his manners, he cleared his throat poshly. If Uemon was going to be a bumpkin, he would not descend to that brat's level. "Welcome, Muramasa Uemon, and to your lovely friend as well. Please, take a seat, both of you." Still, he tried to make his voice as confident and stately as he could.

"Dear sister," Toyoshi now addressed Gin, his voice snidely placating, "your skill with hammers is noteworthy, but this is a matter for samurai, not metal whackers. Let those who know of matters of the sword discuss of such matters. If we need your esteemed advice in issues concerning your well-worn anvil, we shall let you know." He turned to Uemon. "Thank you for responding to my letter, Uemon. I shall not beat around the bush, as you seem to be a busy man: your foolish jaunting with the Masamune name has gone on for too long. The foolishness has to stop." The last words were spoken with the same tone a father would use to correct a child he felt was engaging in tomfoolery below his age.

Muramasa Uemon | Minami Sora | Masamune no Gin

[Muramasa Uemon]

of iron and blood

---

Before they entered, Sora assured him she would handle any resistance he nodded. "We both will."

The wanderer had been training, steadily improving his own skills as he walked this path of blood and iron. So far, they had yet to fight alongside one another, but if he was able to synergize well enough in combat with strangers...

Uemon had no doubt they would prove quite the force, should the need arise. His cousin's reassurance was appreciated, so he flashed some brief, weak facsimile of a half-smile at her before they entered. By the time they did finally arrive, his face was back to its normal unflinching self, and his eyes watched the Masamune siblings closely.

Some thinly-veiled contention between Toyoshi and Gin was of particular interest. "Trouble within their ranks," he thought to himself. "Good." A fractured front could only benefit him, and the heir's gaze that lingered just a bit too long on his cousin did not go unnoticed either. "Any sort of distraction works in our favor." Gin addressed him, her words biting, and just as he was about to set the Masamune woman straight himself, Toyoshi did it for him. So he accepted the invitation to sit, gesturing politely for Sora to first. "I am grateful," he began, slowly lowering himself to the floor to sit cross-legged in agura. "Some measure of decorum is a welcome change of pace." There was no need to lash out at Gin, as it seemed like Toyoshi kept her on a short leash. Though, he did spare her a glance. 

Not mocking in expression, but one that made it clear he was referring to her obnoxious behavior during their previous interaction. Toyoshi chastised his sister again, and Uemon's keen gaze drifted between the two, wondering as to the full extent of this rift. "A Masamune with a penchant for cutting into Masamune..." he thought.  "...him, I like." As youths, during the only other time they met, they got along well enough. Encouraged by his father and their mother to play together. Back then, Uemon had been a loudmouthed child with grand dreams of becoming samurai. He recalled Toyoshi having helped him with his kenjutsu, and Gin was... "Much the same." As arrogant as she was clever.

One of them had changed, but for better or worse he did not know. "A regretful, if necessary choice," he said as the heir steered the topic towards their reason for meeting. He could have used the Minamoto, Taira, Fujiwara, or their many retainer clans' names. But those families were large and well-known, much more than their own. The Masamune were familiar and convenient. Though, if someone did the same with the Muramasa name, he might have been incensed as well. "However," he thought. "This is a negotiation— not a surrender." Even if he wished to...

...he could not simply assent. Uemon seemed to contemplate his words carefully, then continued. "You seem to be a reasonable man, Toyoshi." As reasonable as a Masamune could be, at least. "I see no reason why you and I cannot reach an accord." Familial bad blood aside, the two of them had been friendly once, as had two of their parents. Further feuding would only hurt both clans... and at present, the Masamune stood to lose much more than the Muramasa. "My solution is this:" he began. "In exchange for the information regarding my family's banishment that you alluded to, I will forswear my usage of the Masamune name." A simple exchange.

Or rather, a mutual form of extortion. One of them dangling vital information in front of the other, the other refusing to cease his actions unless his terms were agreed to. No blades had been drawn as of yet, but they were still dueling, in a way. At stalemate, even now, sitting across from one another on the tatami. Uemon held his gaze.

His face unflinching as he waited for the man's reply. "This may have been what he intended, anyhow," the thought occurred. "I would do the same, in his position." In a hypothetical reversal of situations, it was the pragmatic choice.

So rather than wait for Toyoshi to leverage this supposed info, he came right out and offered the trade for him.

---

[Minami Sora]

Sora heard exactly three words come out of the white-haired woman’s mouth and immediately pegged her as someone high-ranking; the way her voice crackled with unearned pomposity, the unbridled entitlement in her tone… There was only one way someone as slender and dainty as her would be able to hold such a tone around men carrying blades sharp enough to cut her in two with ease, and it wasn’t from opening her legs. That tone spoke of privilege, of inherited authority, however tenuous it might have been in this situation. That she was clearly the only civilian in the room attested to that fact, regardless of the calluses on her hands. A smith, maybe?

The man, however, was a different matter; with her Henge up, she could direct its gaze away from him while still watching from beneath her mask, and what she saw was not good. Despite holding the same pomposity in his voice and tone, Toyoshi was far from the weakling his sister was. His gaze had lingered a hair or two longer on her exposed form than would have been appropriate for a man of his station, yes, but there had been a flash of understanding in his eyes, and of all the people in the room not on her side, he had been the only one to notice that she had come armed. Dangerous, then. Even if he is a fop.

Still, the negotiations began without fanfare, the Masamune man offering for the two of them to sit; she followed Uemon’s guidance, sitting as one might expect of a low class yūjo, resting her left arm on the table’s edge, legs splayed out to her right, Samidare resting in such a way that she could easily reach across her body and draw it in a perfect arc that would cut through both Toyoshi and Gin before she had even finished swinging. THe black-haired woman gave the Masamune man a pointed look as she sat down, lips parting in what most would consider a flirty smile- but if he was half as observant as she thought he was, he’d get the meaning. Play nice, boy. Unless you want to see whose draw is faster.

With that done, Sora turned her attention towards Gin, her smile remaining as she spoke, softly, at the smaller woman, her voice hopefully not interrupting anything too important with the men. "Well, hello beautiful. You busy later?"

Masamune no Gin Ronin Muramasa Uemon

[Masamune no Gin]

"I'll use the ink when you say something worth recording, Kentei. I would not want you to accuse me of libel." The barbs were turning a little sharper, a little more venomous. The rift between them was growing, and it seemed physical distance was only accelerating that. Things to consider, but it wasn't really much concern of hers. Gin would only openly oppose her brother if her advantage was overwhelming. And her position in the clan was too secure, and his too precarious to move openly against her. A precarious stalemate. For now.

The admonition to stay out of affairs barely nettles. In truth, she had little interest in this exchange, save for putting the Muramasa in their place. Though it seemed the Katoku was choosing parley over domination? Weakness. Another wedge she could use to isolate Toyoshi from his supporters, if needs must. Once it was clear that this would not end with guts spilled, she yawned dramatically, feigning distraction even as she committed the words to memory.

Only to be propositioned. Openly.

Gin blinked in surprise several times. Then her face twisted into a sneer. "I don't recall, Kentei," She spoke to her brother, even while she stared daggers at the brazen woman. "Did the invitation you so kindly offered include permission for the Muramasa to bring common whores?" She was trying to play it cool, but it was clear that Gin was irritated and disgusted both. "I won't sully my body with anything the Muramasa has... engaged with. A pity that your current client lacks the funds to satisfy your avarice." She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sure you understand when to be silent in your line of work, hm?"

[Ronin]

Toyoshi would probably have laughed if he were not as tense as he was feeling presently, when Gin made her riposte to his hubris at having thought up the adage of the century. The silver-haired vixen was often very annoying, but Toyoshi had to admit she did have a rather impressive wit. No matter; he was smarter than she was. Of that, he was assured. In the meantime, he just had to be satisfied with glancing briefly at her out of the corner of his eye, before the two 'guests' came in.

Uemon's... partner, now she was a problem. It was clear that she had taken note that he had observed her weapon, and was trying to threaten him in a quiet, roundabout way. Pity. One of the virtues of a samurai was bravery. He would not be intimidated. Besides, Gin would probably have been delighted if he showed any signs of nervousness or worry. He would play at the wench's game. Observing her position, and how her sword lay, Toyoshi quickly thought up a counter, if she decided to strike. A drawing slash would come from his right, since she would be drawing with her own right hand, from the left side of her body. Troublesome. It would mean he couldn't block it with his scabbard. But he had been trained in the way of the sword. He would have to be aware of when she was making her stroke, and then he would attempt, from his sitting position, to leap over it, while drawing his won sword. For now, there was no need to show if he had taken note of her threat or not.

Uemon's request for a parley was met with a raised eyebrow. Initially, Toyoshi wanted to try to coerce Uemon into just agreeing; he was after all the superior here. But the other woman, if she made a stroke, would very likely hit Gin as well. As annoying as his sister was, she was a Masamune, and thus part of his responsibility. Even though he was not yet leader of the clan, Toyoshi felt that thinking like the clan head was a good way of preparing him for a position that would inevitably be his one day. Best to not be too trigger-happy. Toyoshi wondered if Gin knew what danger she was in presently. She probably didn't, with the way she looked down her nose at his walking the path of the sword.

"While I see nothing to be gained by me in agreeing to your request," the Katoku said in a voice equal parts smooth and imperious, "you were right in your assessment that I am a reasonable man. So out of the good graces of my heart, of which I am not in the least lacking, I shall oblige you. That being said," he looked at Gin again out of the corner of his eye, unable to refrain from hiding the slight upward twitch of his mouth, "wisdom can be found in the most unlikely places. I don't see why my dear sister shouldn't oblige our guest here. Who knows, she might learn a number of things that may prove quite useful to her."

Normally, Toyoshi would have been relatively dismissive of Sora, but he had noticed that her propositioning of Gin had disgusted and annoyed the latter, and this was something of which he could not pass up the opportunity. He knew that if the tables were reversed, Gin would gladly and unhesitantly rub his face in it. So why wouldn't he preemptively return the favor?

Muramasa Uemon | Minami Sora | Masamune no Gin

[Muramasa Uemon]

tensions rise, words cut

---

A familiar nagging ache entered his head as Gin continued to interject, and he finally shifted his gaze to the woman.

Dark eyes narrowing on her face, a muted hint of cold anger in his expression. "Your brother and I are conducting business," he said, an edge to his words. "If you have nothing of value to add— hold your tongue."

Uemon let his words hang, displeasure now apparent in his light scowl. The woman's mouth was as sharp as her wit, and just as cruel. Sora was playing a role, but he would not stand for her to be insulted in his presence. Even if she had truly been a... hired companion that he brought along, she was his guest. And this treatment of her was wholly unacceptable. Then, there was Toyoshi... who in spite of his marginally more pleasant disposition, still proved himself a Masamune through and through. That same sense of haughtiness, of arrogance coloring his tepid reply.  

Pride was not a feeling he usually associated with himself... but when dealing with this family in particular, they seemed to stoke his worst qualities. "It is not what you stand to gain," he began. "But what you may lose." If Toyoshi was as smart as he believed, he would understand this to be the case. "Reputation." A swordsmith's standing was paramount— a samurai's, even more so. If he cared about the Masamune name, it would serve him well to ensure no further damage was done to it by him. "This trade will be beneficial to the both of us, so..."

There was a lull in the conversation, then a further narrowing of his eyes. "...tell me what you know." Uemon did not need to threaten or needlessly posture, as his own reputation preceded him. A foolish moniker, whispers of death and roguery... "He knows full well what I am capable of," he thought. "If this 'talk' was indeed a waste of our time..."

One way or another, he would find out the truth of it. At the Katoku's suggestion, he glanced to Sora. It would be her choice in the end, but... "It could prove an opportunity to gather more information." A possibility, though Gin was sharp, and spending any extended amount of time with her was its own sort of punishment. "If they so desire." He might have suggested they leave immediately under different circumstances, but without his cousin, he was outnumbered here. "Later," he thought, looking to Toyoshi. "Your dear sister may even learn a lady's courtesy."

Quibbling back and forth with the woman did not interest him, but he could still get his own jabs in while he waited for the heir's response. Judging by the wry smile on the man's lip, the Katoku seemed to enjoy his sister's embarrassment. Something she typically did not need help in achieving if given enough time to run her mouth.

As he waited, his gaze drifted to the guards. A near-demand and an insult to his sister meant that the man's true reasonability was to be tested here and now. If the heir to the Masamune turned out to be otherwise... "So be it."

---

[Minami Sora]

Sora smiled through her Henge, transformed lips pulling up in a lascivious grin that served as a mocking reflection of Gin’s open derision. Under normal circumstances she would have admired the slender woman’s spunk, if only for her willingness to spit the eye of a trio of people who could easily kill her with a thought, but in this instance? The Jounin found the elder Masamune deeply childish, her words the petty insults of a girl who had never learned what it meant to have to back up your opinions with force, rather than allow others to do the fighting and dying for her. It was the exact kind of attitude that would have made her blood boil, just a few months earlier… but things had changed. She had changed.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun though.

"I wonder, what are you hiding beneath that pretty snarl of yours?" The black-haired woman asked as she continued to look at Gin, sky-blue gaze twinkling with a hint of amusement as she matched the white-haired Masamune’s sneer beat for beat, blow for blow, with one of her own, even going so far as to switch up her very syntax, no longer sounding like a common peasant, but rather a proper, courtly woman, all prim and prissy. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

A laugh, soft and taunting, spilled from her lips as she looked away from the elder Masamune, her attention now focused in on Toyoshi in its entirety. There was little else more insulting to one of these noble types than being ignored by those they felt beneath them- it was all well and good for Gin to ignore the peasants she squashed under foot, but should they give her the same courtesy in return, the woman would be frothing at the mouth with rage, demanding to be acknowledged.

It wasn’t until Uemon spoke again, however, that she chose to interject, her left hand absently fingering the plain iron kashira that capped Samidare’s tsuka; she could feel something shifting in the air, a subtle change in the discussion that, regardless of the outcome, meant things were approaching a point of contention. Uemon and Toyoshi had laid out their terms- it was simply a matter, now, of who would blink first… and if she would need to use the weapon on her hip or not.

Muramasa Uemon Masamune no Gin Ronin

[Masamune no Gin]

"Kentei!" While clearly annoyed, the color on her face told of equal parts mortification and horror as well. "I never! Is barbarity contagious?!" Gin made a great show of covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve, which would also buy her time to school her expression.

Not that she seemed overly aware of how close the situation was to breaking out in violence. She may have been a samurai, but she had only ever been a spectator to violence. It had never interested her. Providing the tools was enough of a stain on her soul and shinki.

What was more important was that Toyoshi's ck duct guaranteed retribution. Not this day. Perhaps not this year. But one day, he would pay for this.

"I would thank you all not to repeat such vulgarities towards a Kyoshō of the Masamune." Her tone was even, and, when the sleeve was lowered, her face was a mask of calm civility. She was still something of a political creature after all.

Though not as skilled as she thought herself, as she stared daggers at both of the unpleasant guests. For now, she was content to let the nominal senior here take the lead. Then perhaps undermine one or both parties once she had found some leverage.