[Ronin]

The blanching of Gin's face was something Toyoshi had never thought he would see. Perhaps there was something to be grateful to this Muramasa upstart for, although, really, it wasn't something Toyoshi could not have achieved by himself. Still, there were a lot of hoops to jump through, when it came to putting an abrasive sister, who thought too highly of herself, in her place. With these two, he could indulge himself in annoying Gin, and have a reason to excuse himself if she pointed fingers at him.

That being said, Uemon really had guts coming here and making demands as though he deserved anything. But Toyoshi also understood, shrewd stateman that he thought himself to be, that everything was about perception. Uemon had come with whom was seemingly a harmless pleasure-woman, but Toyoshi suspected she was something more. And Uemon himself was not someone to be overlooked, especially since he had killed a member of the Masamune, even if she had been ronin. If things came to violence, Toyoshi was sure he could handle himself. His sister's safety, however, was a responsibility of his. So, Toyoshi would make sure they didn't come to blows, and command the perception to look as though he had done this as an act of magnanimity on his part. "Noted, dear sister," Toyoshi answered Gin, a patronizing smile on his face. "Pity her skill with the sword is not as sharp as her tongue," he thought.

"We have many ways to maintain, or even repair, our reputation, if need be, seeing as it is quite important to us" the Katoku stated, finally returning to the important matter at hand. "But as I said before, I have no desire to be difficult where it is not needed, so you shall have what you came for, and I expect you would be honorable as well." There was a pause, most likely to build a little sensationalistic tension before the hammer stroke came; Toyoshi was a drama queen, after all.

"The Muramasa were exiled, because they sullied our reputation. They engaged in illicit arms trading, a punishment which could have been their extermination, but the Masamune are benevolent, if anything." The only thing Toyoshi wasn't doing at this point was strutting and puffing out his chest.

Muramasa Uemon | Minami Sora | Masamune no Gin

[Muramasa Uemon]

reopening deep, red wounds

---

Insults had been repaid with an appropriate dressing-down, and Gin's reaction, feigned or not, was satisfactory.

Just now, they all had more important things to discuss than personal pride. And as the topic turned to grave matters, the wanderer's normally stoic face became severe. Not unlike an animal's as it prepared to strike.

Toyoshi was smarter than he assumed, and though he still possessed that Masamune arrogance, he knew better than to provoke his guests needlessly. If violence were to break out it would not be without cost— for all parties involved. It was clear, by him simply accepting this invitation at all, that the circumstances regarding his family's exile was important to him... and judging by the glint of danger in his eye, the subject of his father even moreso.   

The wanderer listened to the Katoku speak, prefacing his explanation with an assurance of their family's stable reputation and an expectation of honor. "The Taira thought the same, once." He said in regards to their reputation. "The Fujiwara before them, and the Yamato before them both." Reputation was everything in Tetsu no Kuni, and as history had proven, it could shift dramatically overnight. The nation's capital still bore the name bestowed upon it by the first shōgun, and even its grand chrysanthemum castle stood tall, but the Yamato had long-since fallen from grace. And the Fujiwara, though still powerful, now watched over the wisteria in the southern forests rather than rule from Kīroshi. "Toyoshi," he said. "We are not boys playing at swords, any longer."

It was his only response to the man's concerns, trusting him to take his meaning. Once, over a decade ago, the two of them had been friendly enough. Practicing at kenjutsu in the snow, his own father and their mother looking on at the youths, encouraging good will between their families. But now they were grown, and the stakes here were high.

One way or another they would reach a resolution... but it was up to them whether that ended in words, or in further bloodshed. The Katoku spoke, and Uemon scanned the man's face as he listened. A smug telling of events... but one that took the normally unflinching Muramasa by surprise. "Illicit arms trading?" He repeated to himself.

Eyes widening slightly as he scoured his memory for any hint of truth. "...impossible," he finally said, trying and failing to mask a cold anger. "My father was loyal to our homeland and to the bakufu above all else." Above even his own family, as his dedication to his work had proven at times. He could still recall his grandfather, Zaemon, arguing with Iemitsu over not spending enough time with them. "He remained that way... right up until he was butchered by Minamoto men." Cut down like some mongrel at their family forge. "You expect me to believe that he would risk his own life— his family's lives for... what?" There was a  pause. "...ryō?" Now, he was scowling.

Fingers on his right hand curling into a fist as he glared at the Katoku, then Gin. Greed was the Masamune's lot, obsession with rising in status and power— not the Muramasa. "Is this some kind of base jest?" It had to be, and already he could feel something welling up in the pit of his stomach. Spite, perhaps, and as it began to boil over...

....the nape of his neck began to tingle. "I trust you have some sort of proof of this claim..." For their sake.

---

[Minami Sora]

Sora listened to the by-play between Toyoshi, Gin, and Uemon with an attentive ear, her sky-blue gaze wandering away from the samurai’s frame and towards their surroundings, once more playing the part of a distracted street courtesan who had been dragged into something far above her head. She kept the Masamune man in her peripheral though, never once losing sight of him or his sword arm, no matter how her gaze roamed- and it did roam, taking in almost the entirety of the room around them, looking for exits and choke points and potential places for a trap to spring up.

Lot of unfamiliar names being thrown around… She thought, pursing her lips slightly as she reigned her gaze back in towards the elder Masamune, listening intently. Much of the political interplay between the Samurai clans went unnoticed by the Shinobi nations, but she recognized a few of the older clan names, with the Yamato standing out most. It had been a long time since the Bakufu had held any sway over the larger continent, but even Kirigakure taught about the original shogunate’s rise to power. What could be gleaned from the romanticized histories of it all, anyway. It wasn’t until Toyoshi finished his explanation, however, that Sora realized just what it was the man was implying.

Treason. That was what the Masamune was getting at, the thrust of why the Muramasa had been exiled and stripped of their status, why Uemon’s father had been struck down by the Minamoto. But for all the story made sense from an outside perspective, something about it felt… off. As if there was a piece of the puzzle missing, something that connected the disparate pieces together to make it all sensible and coherent.

"People do things for all sorts of reasons, Uemon." She said after a moment, laying her hand on her cousin’s shoulder both to comfort and warn him- he could ill afford to be the one to start the bloodshed, should it come to blows. Her gaze never left Toyoshi’s face despite this, lips pursed into a thin, tight frown as she spoke, voice calm but firm, dropping the coy facade in favor of the steel that had always lay beneath. "Let us hear more of his story before we judge."

Masamune no Gin Ronin

[Masamune no Gin]

Once it was clear that the temporary alliance to mortify Gin was precisely that - temporary - she visibly relaxed, eyes unfocusing for a moment as the talk turned to matters of warrior honor and the like. Petty politicking that she had little interest in; if the Muramasa were guilty, they should have been put to the sword. If Uemon was guilty of what he appeared to be, he should be opening his belly, not his mouth.

But Uemon's vehement denial caused her blatantly bored expression to replaced by a grin.
"Surprised to hear that your clan's reputation is indeed earned, Uemon?" She rested a hand on her face, the posture mimicking concern though her expression and tone betrayed none. "I even told you myself that the way of your clan is corrupt. Is it really so difficult to imagine that the head of a clan famed for producing cursed, bloodthirsty weapons would prioritize profits over fealty or honor?" In all honesty, Gin only knew the basics of the accusations levied against the Muramasa. They were guilty. That was enough for her. But she saw a chance to turn the tables back on the upstart, and lunged at it.

Apparently still unaware that her position was more precarious here than social mores would indicate. "You are being granted far more mercy and charity than I would ever extend, Muramasa. Where is your gratitude?"

[Ronin]

Even if reputation could change overnight, Toyoshi had no intentions of being alive while that of the Masamune suffered loss of prestige. Fortunately, many of the others of his clan, perhaps even Gin, had similar motivations. However, what Gin seemed unwilling, or unable, to notice, was that her ability to act like such a spoiled princess was almost completely reliant on the ways of the samurai which her clan had adopted, ways that she seemed to hold in derision.

The Katoku said nothing as Uemon struggled to grapple with the news he was hearing. It was expected; Uemon had to have been ignorant of the true reasons behind his clan's fall from grace, else he would not have been so foolhardy as to attempt to smear the Masamune name with his antics, which had led to this meeting. And yet, even as the Muramasa boy expressed anger and disbelief, Toyoshi knew that he had to, at least as much as he could, play the part of the diplomat. Gin did not seem like she was going to assist in that regard.

Whoever this woman with Uemon was, she was another to keep tabs on. Still, it seemed that she, in some way or another, did not seem all that willing to fall to blows. Gin, however, in her usual manner, was quick to heap colas on the fire, perhaps as some form of vengeance for the mortification she had suffered moments ago. That, and she evidently despised Uemon's clan. Amusing that the one who most likely could least defend herself here was the most arrogant of them all. Well, as Katoku, he had to take care of her, even if she was annoying most of the time. He did have to admit that, as her brother, he had some degree of affection for her, and it would be a stain on his reputation if she were to be hurt in this meeting, insufferable as she was.

Uemon had asked for proof of the accusation. Something in his tone made it sound like a threat. Toyoshi, however, the self-proclaimed genius that he was, had planned for such an occasion, but being the drama queen he didn't realize he was, he needed to do a few things for the sake of mere showiness. For a while, he made no response to Uemon, instead simply staring at the Muramasa, then he raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. One of the bodyguards standing behind him nodded and disappeared into a hidden room in the back, before returning with a bundle and a book; the former he placed on the table, but the latter he handed to Toyoshi.

"Here is your proof," the Katoku said, gesturing at the bundle. If Uemon opened it, he would see about half a dozen swords, all broken and marred so as to be unusable. But he would also recognize the designs of the tsuka of the weapons, as well as the signatures on the blades themselves, which had carefully been preserved while the swords were being destroyed. They were unmistakably Muramasa work. "These are just a few of weapons which our retainers confiscated from bandits at the borders of the Land of Wood. Similar cases of Muramasa weapons were found distributed in criminal elements in the Land of Iron as well."

Muramasa Uemon | Minami Sora | Masamune no Gin

[Muramasa Uemon]

to bleed all over

---

Toyoshi's assurances, Gin's scathing words... this was all one big ploy, delivered by them at his own expense.

Dark eyes spoke volumes where his words otherwise failed, flitting over to stare daggers into the Masamune woman as she continued to wag her careless tongue. A scowl fixed itself upon his features, and his gaze shifted to Toyoshi.

It lingered there for a but a moment as the Katoku spoke, then drifted to each of the Masamune guards one by one  until it came to rest upon the one sent to fetch something. A cloth bundle was trotted out before him and placed on the table, and Uemon slowly reached to unfurl it. As it opened, he was met with several old, well-worn blades.

Muramasa weapons, their origin indisputable according to the signatures etched into their nakago. "..." The wanderer's silence was deafening, and he tilted his head downward slightly so that his hair obscured his face. "This is a farce," he thought. "Kabuki— orchestrated and performed by two artless charlatans." Uemon peered at them both from between his dark locks, then to the guards that stood behind them. He could feel the nails on his bandaged right hand digging into his palm. "Slanderers, bakufu puppets," he thought. "A quick death is too good for them." He paused.

Almost instinctively, a bit of chakra began to work its way towards the nape of his neck, and the seal there began to burn. "I am going to paint this room red." It was a small enough space, and between the five of them there would be no shortage of blood to do so. "First, I will have it crush his head," he began to plan to himself, looking at Toyoshi before glancing at the guards. "Then, after they watch their lord die, tear them each limb from limb." It would be a simple matter for the monstrosity he had sealed away. A crude, cruel thing capable of immense violence. "Her, I leave for last..."

Uemon's eyes rested on Gin, the tension emanating from him almost palpable enough to cut. Whether it was only in his head or not he could not tell... nor did he care. "...I will take her tongue." The wanderer adjusted his posture, to make it easier to rise. "...drink deeply atop your lonely mountain, Shu—" A nonsensical muttering or odd prayer of some sort was cut short by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Instantly, the chakra he directed towards his neck halted, and his gaze snapped to the hand's source. "Sora..." Doubtless, his cousin had noticed his sudden shift in demeanor. Like him, she too knew of loss... and in many ways, the tragedy that befell her own family was worse than his. At least Uemon had been spared the sight of his father losing his head. "Not the screams, though," he thought. "Not the wailing of my mother and sisters... nor the long, forced march east." It did not even end there, either. The last time he returned to his family's homestead, he found his father's grave defiled. "They are too low to allow even his bones to rest."

A move by the bakufu, almost certainly. Seizing a traitor's remains to put on display somewhere in the capital, or otherwise destroy to deny them a proper burial. In any case, it was Sora's gesture that gave him pause... and the sole reason he decided not to act on his murderous impulses. "I..." Uemon began, turning his gaze to the weapons on the table, then to Toyoshi. "...have heard enough." His hand relaxed, and he slowly rose from the floor. Now standing, the scowl he wore was still very much present, but a bloodbath seemed to have been averted for now at least. "I assume that book contains some relevant documentation. I would have it." The wanderer said, waiting for the Katoku to hand it over. No sense in trotting it out just to dangle it before him like some plaything.

Or perhaps that was exactly what he intended to do, as crudely cunning as Toyoshi was. Still, the man possessed some semblance of reason, and he doubted he would fuel a smoldering fire. "After that... our business is concluded." If the Masamune heir agreed, he would accept it. "The agreement stands," he said, some vitriol still present in his otherwise-even tone. "'Masamune no Fudo' is no more." There was no need for an alias, now.

The bakufu and its agents knew of him, the Masamune did now too, and he knew how rumors spread amongst the smallfolk. "Farewell, Masamune no Toyoshi." Uemon said to the man, neither nodding, bowing, nor sparing Gin more than a hateful glare. Then, he gestured towards Sora and turned his back to leave. Away from this place.

Anywhere else, and preferably somewhere quiet. "Not today," he thought to himself as he walked. "Blood will flow before long... but not today." He had much to think about now regarding the coming weeks... and more still, to do. 

---

[Minami Sora]

Somehow, Sora knew. Perhaps it was their familial connection, the shared blood that ran through their veins, but somehow she could almost feel the storm brewing inside of her cousin; a tempest of wrath, a churning maelstrom of violence that was simply waiting to be unleashed. Yearning for it, even. For a long moment, the storm in her own chest rumbled, like calling to like in a quiet resonance that had her heart beating harder, her breathing slow, muscles relaxed and tensed up all at once, ready to move with explosive speed in an instant. There was a very real danger that this would turn into a bloodbath if Uemon chose to attack, one that could easily end with everyone dead or dying…

But not today.

The black-haired woman let loose a slow, quiet sigh when her cousin spoke, his voice low and cold, at odds with the storm she knew was raging behind his dark eyes- but whatever rage had tried to seize him had, thankfully, passed, settling deep in the back of his stare like a predator waiting for its moment to pounce. She stood with him, left hand resting on Samidare’s hilt as she turned her attention, briefly, to Gin, blowing the stuck up Masamune a gentle kiss with a wink before she turned about on one foot and followed after her kin.

Come what may, no blood was spilled today. If nothing else, that made it a good day.

exit

Muramasa Uemon Masamune no Gin Ronin