(Rated PG-15 for epic violence, use of alcohol, possible sexual themes and suggestive situations)
*****
It was early in the morning; the sun had risen only an hour before. It shone brightly over Ashihara-no-Nakatsukuni, blessing the country’s inhabitants with its warmth and light. All was peaceful, as it had been for many years. There was stability in the land. There was very little fighting: minor arguing, the occasional squabble, or the sporadic yokai attacks. But other than that, all was well in Ashihara.
The sun gleamed off the polished mane of a jade shisa guardian, seated on its haunches, keeping watch over the entrance to Honden Shrine. Everything about this lion-dog statue seemed to ward off any evil that dared venture near: the fierce look in its shining eyes, the eternal growl carved into its elaborate visage, the raised claw that looked as though it could tear a man to shreds.
There was silence. No sounds or movements within the forest. No noises from within the sacred shrine.
Until a figure appeared before it, seemingly out of nowhere. He stepped forward, approaching the shrine’s entrance, an autumn breeze blowing through his wild and unkempt brown hair. He paid the shisa guardian no heed, passing it by without a second thought. As he slid open the door into the shrine, a smirk crossed his features.
“Somebody’s gonna get it.”
The Honden Shrine led back outside, to the walled entrance of another, more important, shrine. There was a breathtaking stairway chiseled into the very mountain itself. Thousands of stairs led up to the second shrine, Ise Shrine, where Amaterasu, the kami of the sun, was honored.
Ise Shrine was several stories tall, and situated at the top of an immense mountain, high in the clouds. Trees wound their way up the mountain, their roots clinging to the mountainside for support. The shrine itself had been made to shimmer in the sun’s rays, built and decorated with bronze, silver, and gold.
The figure had, by now, reached the top of the stairway and was approaching Ise Shrine’s great doors. Two monks with shaven heads stood guard at the entrance, armed with naginata spears and garbed in red robes with gold linings. They eyed the approaching figure suspiciously.
“Halt,” spoke one, blocking the figure’s path with his weapon. “Only the servants of Amaterasu are permitted to enter here. Who are you?”
The figure stopped, but didn’t spare the monk a glance. Smirking, he said, “The name’s Kaminari Omikami. And I want my scroll back.”
A moment later, both monks lay dead at his feet.
Kaminari flung open the doors of Ise Shrine and stepped arrogantly inside.
“What’s up, baldies?”
A dozen shaved heads turned. A few moments later, a dozen monks were strewn across the room dead or unconscious.
Kaminari hurried across the room, passing pillars and plates of burning incense. He scowled at the smell. He hated the smell of burning incense. It made him gag. As he reached the end of a hall and barreled past a couple of guards, a thundering bell started to ring. An emergency bell. Great, just great.
He dispatched the guards easily and broke into a sprint, hurtling up a staircase four steps at a time. When he reached the second floor, he found a young monk no older than himself cowering in the corner with a box of scrolls held tightly to his chest. The scrolls piqued Kaminari’s interest for a moment, but he quickly recognized that none of them could be his. He looked at the boy and sighed.
In one swift motion, he slammed the young monk into the wall, rendering him unconscious. The boy slumped to the floor in a heap, the box of scrolls spilling its contents all over the place.
Kaminari turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He mentally cursed himself for causing such a ruckus. He had never been very good at stealth, and now the whole shrine knew about his arrival.
No matter. Spilling the blood of Amaterasu’s monks didn’t weigh upon his conscience in the least. After all, they were just bald, stupid people. The world needed less of them anyway.
He rocketed up another flight of stairs and into a wide hall, where he found seven monks rippling with muscles in battle-stances, poised for a fight. Their eyes fixed upon Kaminari. But Kaminari’s eyes had fixed upon the pair of huge doors at the back of the hall.
That’s gotta be it, he thought. Of course that’s where they’d keep it.
The monk in the middle formed a sign with his hands, channeling his energies into a summons. Kaminari knew the drill. The monk would use his focused energy to summon a yokai, a mystical monster or spirit, to his aid.
Didn’t matter. Kaminari knew his way around the spirit world. He could handle anything this monk could bring.
“Seishin o furuiokosu – Nurikabe!”
A solid stone wall, six inches thick, rose from the ground, blocking the monks from view and obstructing Kaminari’s path. He glanced to his right; instantly, another wall protruded from the first, forming a semicircle around him and reconnecting to the original wall. He was trapped. Kaminari looked up. The wall wasn’t any more than ten feet high; he could easily jump that. But he knew better; the wall was infinite in all directions. It would simply keep building itself up to keep Kaminari in.
The young man grinned. “So this is a nurikabe,” he murmured. “Interesting.”
On the other side of the wall, the seven monks kept their eyes trained on the place Kaminari would be. They knew not how powerful this wayward monk was, but they weren’t taking any chances. They remained quiet, completely focused on the matter at hand. All was silent.
Knock, knock, knock.
The seven monks tensed up as a door formed on the wall. The handle jiggled a moment, then turned, and the door was swung open. Nothing came out. The monks remained still, concentrating.
Still nothing.
Suddenly, the middle monk felt a presence behind him. Kaminari leaned nonchalantly against his back, his arms folded across his chest, one leg crossing the other, a wicked grin plastered on his face.
The monk’s eyes widened. As he whirled around, throwing a high-kick in Kaminari’s direction, Kaminari ducked and slammed his heel into the monk’s groin. The monk’s knees buckled, but not before his face had met Kaminari’s other foot, aimed right for his nose. The robed warrior toppled backwards.
The other six monks were upon him now.
Kaminari threw himself onto his hands and split-kicked two monks in their necks, sending them tumbling backwards, gasping for breath. Grinning wildly, he launched himself above the others in a back-flip and landed nimbly behind one of his remaining opponents. Gripping the monk by the shoulders, Kaminari flung him mercilessly into a pillar and drilled a fist savagely into his gut. The monk crumpled to the floor.
“Three to go,” Kaminari muttered, whirling around just in time to block a punch with his forearm. He snaked his arm around the arm of his opponent, grabbed hold, and elbowed him ruthlessly in the face. Still grasping the monk’s arm, Kaminari hurled him into another monk, just as this one was about to launch himself into a kick. Both monks were sent sprawling backwards.
He turned his attention next on the final monk, who clasped his hands together and made a series of intricate signs with his entwined fingers.
Kaminari could’ve sworn the monk had flipped him off in one of those hand-signs.
Teeth clenched, the monk growled, “Seishin o furuiokosu – Inugami!”
Instantly, two wispy forms materialized at his sides, taking the shape of snarling dogs. The canines fixed their feral eyes on Kaminari and bared their teeth. One of them barked at him threateningly.
Kaminari scowled. He knew these beasts could talk, but they weren’t about to grace him with their words.
The dog spirits came hurtling towards him, trails of a gray mist in their wake. The one who reached Kaminari first met his fist and was dispelled in a swirling cloud. Kaminari couldn’t help but snicker at the weak summons. He turned his attention next to the other inugami, which was about to bite his neck. Kaminari leaped backwards, the dog’s vicious jaws snapping at air instead of flesh and bone.
But the inugami was agile, and had leaped once more an instant after it touched ground. Kaminari skidded backwards as the dog spirit came at him again. A sneer crossed his face. He threw his hands together, instinctively forming a sign with his fingers. He completed the hand-sign a mere moment before the dog reached his face. The inugami dissipated into nothingness an inch from his nose.
Kaminari cast a glance in the remaining monk’s direction and raised an eyebrow. The monk’s eyes were wide with horror. He staggered back as Kaminari approached.
“Don’t worry,” Kaminari said assuredly, cracking his knuckles and grinning savagely. “I’ll make this quick and painless. Relatively.”
“Y-You’ve come for the scroll, haven’t you?” the monk stammered, clenching his fists tight and raising them defensively.
Kaminari stopped advancing. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. It’s mine. And you guys took it.”
Through gritted teeth, the monk hissed, “The Iza no Kinshi Sukurōru belongs to no man. No mortal could control its power.”
Kaminari’s eyes narrowed. “Try me.”
Just moments later, Kaminari was stepping over the fallen monk’s body and heading briskly towards the two great doors at the back of the hall. He flung them open and stormed inside, where he found an enormous altar. There, upon the altar, lay the Forbidden Scroll of Izanagi. Kaminari snatched up the scroll and thrust it into the empty loops of his sash.
Folding his arms over his chest and smirking victoriously, Kaminari scanned the sacred room for anything he could deface or defile. These guys had earned it.
His gaze fixed upon a gold statue built in Amaterasu’s likeness. A wicked grin crossed his features. He approached it.
And then he mooned the sun goddess.
Kaminari snickered to himself as he hoisted his pants back up and retied his sash. He rubbed his hands together, satisfied with his work, and headed out.
It wasn’t long before he reached the bottom of the shrine’s massive staircase. He reentered Honden Shrine to exit, but found someone seated in the middle of the room, waiting for him. Kaminari nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when the form rose to its full height – nearly nine feet tall.
It was a man of muscular build, with a low brow, dark eyes, and a permanent scowl etched onto his face. His head was shaved, like those of the monks Kaminari had recently dispatched. He was clad in a robe and armor, and a menacing spear was slung across his back. The towering man fixed his eyes upon Kaminari, who gulped. This was no ordinary monk. This was a kami. This was a god.
In a deep, earth-shaking voice, he rumbled, “You have tainted sacred ground. You have slain those entrusted to me. I smell the blood on your hands.”
“You’re...Idaten,” Kaminari said, staring at the hulking figure and trying to keep his knees from knocking together.
Idaten’s eyes flashed. “God and protector of monks. And you have called down my wrath.”
Kaminari’s eyes widened. He tore past Idaten, making a beeline for the door. But before he could make his escape, Idaten swung his mighty weapon. Kaminari dove forward, missing the spear’s tip by a hair. The weapon struck the ground instead, and caused an explosion of power to burst forth. The blast tore Honden Shrine to pieces and rocked the very mountain itself.
Kaminari was hurled several hundred feet into the air, clutching frantically to his scroll, lest he lose it again. It wasn’t long before he felt himself falling, plummeting back down to earth. He turned over in the air, his mind racing for some idea, some way to save himself.
He looked down. The trees below were rushing towards him quickly, beckoning him to his death. Kaminari winced, the wind whistling in his ear. He scanned the trees, searching hysterically for some way of preserving his life.
There!
Through the trees, he saw the glint of the sun off a water surface. A river, he thought, furiously readjusting himself in midair to fall into the water. He knew it would hurt like heck, plummeting headfirst into a river, and he didn’t even know how deep it really was, but anything was better than being splattered all over the forest bed.
A split-second later, he fell through an opening in the tree canopies and plunged into the river.
Everything went black.
=========================
Several hours later, in the ever-unfortunate village of Suzuka, a beautiful young woman made her way through the village’s small marketplace. The nineteen-year-old caught a glimpse of a couple of teenage boys ogling her hips as she passed by. She made a mental note to kill them later.
Faking a brazen smile and winking over her shoulder at the boys, she whispered, “Come by my place tonight and I’ll show you what else these can do.”
Nosebleeds all around. She laid a hand on the hilt of her sword at her side as she continued on her way. Her bronze eyes flashed red for an instant.
Her name was Tomoe Muramasa.
She weaved her way through the bustling villagers, smiling at a couple of acquaintances as she passed by.
But Tomoe paid no one any further heed. She was eager to begin her day’s sword-training. She couldn’t wait for the calm, soothing sound of flowing water, or the feeling of loose gravel between her toes. The peaceful setting helped to keep her under control when she unsheathed the deadly Muramasa blade, Juuchi Yosamu.
She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, for fear that someone may discover her secret training-place, and then plunged into a thicket. Tomoe emerged several seconds later in a beautiful, forested setting with a floor of tiny pebbles banking a narrow stream several feet deep. On most days, she would take off her clothes and bathe in the cool, soothing river. She had already removed her boots when she noticed something lying face-up halfway in the water.
Casting her boots aside, she rushed to the river and bent over the wet form. It was a young man, about eighteen, she guessed, half-drowned and completely soaked. Beside him lay a large scroll that was, very strangely, totally dry. But Tomoe wasn’t thinking about the scroll. She dropped to her knees, swept her lavender hair behind her ear, and pressed the side of her face against the young man’s chest.
“He’s still alive,” she said aloud, lifting her head and looking at the mysterious guy’s face. “Guess this means I have to carry him back. Not sure how I feel about that.”
=========================
Kaminari awoke with a start and found himself staring up at a gorgeous young woman with lavender hair. She giggled and winked down at him. “Ah, you’re awake. That’s good. Uncle said you had sustained some serious internal damage and might not make it, but he’s just a pessimist. I told him I’d nurse you back to health.”
Kaminari raised an eyebrow. He tried to sit up, but cringed at the strain and lay back. He was lying on a cot in a small room with a paper-door and a small table. His body from the waist-down was covered by a blanket, and his torso was completely bare except for some bandages wrapped around his chest and left shoulder. “Where am I? Who are you?”
The girl giggled again. Leaning over him, the young woman said, “My name is Tomoe Muramasa, niece of the famed demon swordsmith, Muramasa himself. And you’re in Suzuka village. Found you washed up by the river.”
There was a pause, as Kaminari, still disoriented, tried to make sense of the words he was hearing. Tomoe smiled and continued, “Now tell me, who are you, mysterious-river-boy? And where did you come from?”
Kaminari, despite the soreness he felt all over, managed to prop himself up on his elbows. Craning his neck to meet Tomoe’s gaze, he said, “Name’s Kaminari Omikami. And I’m kinda on an important mission right now. I just got a little sidetracked when these monks stole my--”
He stopped, his eyes widening with horror.
“--the scroll! Where is it?” he demanded, rolling over onto his stomach with a pained grunt.
“That freaking big scroll you had with you?” Tomoe asked, pointing to the table on the other side of the room. “I put it over there.”
Kaminari wasted no time. He leaped to his feet and snatched up the scroll in his arms, grasping it tightly. Then the pain kicked in, and he collapsed to the floor with a groan.
Tomoe knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wow, that scroll must be pretty important.” She extended a hand to the boy lying on the floor. “Come on, your other clothes should be dry by now. I’ll show you around Suzuka.”
=========================
When Kaminari had put his old clothes on, he followed Tomoe through several doorways and to the front room of the house. As she slid the door open, Tomoe turned her head and shouted, “Uncle! I’m taking the river-boy to see the village!”
Kaminari raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder to see who she was yelling to. He could not, but he heard a loud grunt from somewhere deeper in the house. He felt a chill run up his spine. His eyes narrowed. There was a dark presence somewhere inside. Something demonic. He could feel it.
Before he followed Tomoe outside, he cast a suspicious glare back into the house and growled, “That wasn’t your uncle, was it?”
Tomoe sighed. Turning to Kaminari, she replied, “Some say my uncle is insane. Others think him demon-possessed. And some people think he’s just overly ambitious.”
“And what is he really?”
Tomoe placed her hands on her hips and fixed her eyes on Kaminari. Smiling mysteriously, she replied, “All of the above.”
With that, she turned on her heels and kept walking. Kaminari shrugged. “Good enough for me.”
“A word of advice,” Tomoe said, still walking. “Don’t get too close to my uncle when he’s got a sword. It’s just safer that way.”
She led him to a path of stones, which they followed, passing by several wooden houses raised off the ground on short wooden legs. Occasionally, they would pass an elderly man or woman sitting on the porch of such a house, or a small child playing on the side of the road.
It wasn’t long before they reached the central part of the village. There were dozens of houses now, and a great number of villagers were bustling back and forth. But Tomoe didn’t stop. She led him to the marketplace, where the majority of the villagers had gathered to shop or sell their wares. The villagers would step aside to allow them passage, dip their heads in respect, and then continue to stare at Tomoe and her companion as they passed by.
Tomoe turned a corner and disappeared from view. Kaminari followed after her. When he rejoined her she was agilely climbing onto the tile roof of a house, beckoning for him to come with her. Kaminari smirked.
He propelled himself off the building’s wall, and used his foot to launch himself off the wall of a neighboring house. In two wall-jumps, Kaminari had reached the tile roof and was standing next to Tomoe, gazing out over the village.
Tomoe smiled. “Welcome to Suzuka.”
