Gods. Just substitute mead with sake. He said a few things that some might find unbecoming of a samurai, but in samurai rankings he was nobody.
Now many samurai abused their rankings to be downright rude or worse to women. He had every intention of a traditional courtship, but just wanted to get the ball rolling since that could sometimes take centuries. There was a knocking at their door, and he really hoped that he would be asking Miyoshi to get another room tonight.
Ryoma slid open the door, and it was far better than he could have hoped. Standing in the doorway was the waitress Oryu clothed only in the light of the moon. She was soaking wet, the heat was steaming off her, and it was quite obviously cold. He had absolutely no idea what to say.
“Sakamoto-sama!” she cried, “I saw the military from the bath house. Twenty of them came in front door – surely for you.”
“Did they see you?”
“No, the backyard is empty.”
“ Arigato gozaimashita. ” Ryoma took off his outer kimono and lay it across her shoulders despite how much it pained him to do so. “Go back the way you came. Quickly. We’ll get out once we know they can’t trace you to this.”
“ Demo- “
“Now! Quickly!”
“ Wakarimashita! ”
He prayed a moment that those soldiers would not find her on their way to his room as he watched Oryu run off. He slid his door closed again. “We’re in for fight, Miyoshi.” Miyoshi smiled and uncovered the bundle he carried with him – a naginata. The katana was essentially a three-foot long razor blade. Now attach this to a five-foot pole and you have the naginata.
They stood side-by-side and waited. Ryoma relaxed his mind and body into the Zen calm, and entered the now state where great swordsmanship dwelt. He was a master of the sword, but he used those techniques to control an even greater destructive power. He reached into his kimono and loosened his weapon from its holster.
“Vagrant and Ronin Sakamoto Ryoma from Tosa!” cried the fully armored man that just kicked in the door with sword drawn. “You are under arrest by order of the Shogun for suspicious behavior and treason against the Empire.” The wooden support column beside the man exploded into a cloud of splinters.
A smoking Smith and Wesson .45 smoldered from his hip. He was a master shot with the pistol and did not miss. His bullets always went where he intended. He wanted the man to know three things: (1) he had a gun, (2) you cannot possibly dodge a bullet (this was an important lesson since Ryoma was sure none of these men had ever seen a proper gun), and (3) they should be afraid.
It was because of warning shots like this that Ryoma would later get the reputation of never taking a life. Ryoma thought this was an unlikely claim. He’d shot a few people in his career, and was bound to have killed at least one of them. He pulled back the hammer on his revolver.
“I treason only against the Bakufu . Now the Emperor has always had my full support.” Calmly Miyoshi and Ryoma held the doorway with only the threat of their superior reach. “I think you should retreat. We hold the terrain and you’re numbers are pointless.” He was reminded of the Sparta at Termipoli pass he had read in military histories while founding the naval academy.
One of the samurai in the back charged them both before he was cut down with a flash of gunfire. Now the real fighting would begin. His palm fanned the Smith and Wesson’s hammer and gunfire dropped the first row of men. Ryoma then slipped behind the large man Miyoshi and replaced the spent shells while Miyoshi dispersed any organized charge of soldiers a slash of with his great spear. Ryoma snapped the cylinder of his revolver back in place and circled around Miyoshi to mow down anyone in the front row he deemed too close.
Ryoma held his calm watch of the door only pulling the trigger when he saw one of the soldiers move. Suddenly they surged forth and Miyoshi cut down their front
Now many samurai abused their rankings to be downright rude or worse to women. He had every intention of a traditional courtship, but just wanted to get the ball rolling since that could sometimes take centuries. There was a knocking at their door, and he really hoped that he would be asking Miyoshi to get another room tonight.
Ryoma slid open the door, and it was far better than he could have hoped. Standing in the doorway was the waitress Oryu clothed only in the light of the moon. She was soaking wet, the heat was steaming off her, and it was quite obviously cold. He had absolutely no idea what to say.
“Sakamoto-sama!” she cried, “I saw the military from the bath house. Twenty of them came in front door – surely for you.”
“Did they see you?”
“No, the backyard is empty.”
“ Arigato gozaimashita. ” Ryoma took off his outer kimono and lay it across her shoulders despite how much it pained him to do so. “Go back the way you came. Quickly. We’ll get out once we know they can’t trace you to this.”
“ Demo- “
“Now! Quickly!”
“ Wakarimashita! ”
He prayed a moment that those soldiers would not find her on their way to his room as he watched Oryu run off. He slid his door closed again. “We’re in for fight, Miyoshi.” Miyoshi smiled and uncovered the bundle he carried with him – a naginata. The katana was essentially a three-foot long razor blade. Now attach this to a five-foot pole and you have the naginata.
They stood side-by-side and waited. Ryoma relaxed his mind and body into the Zen calm, and entered the now state where great swordsmanship dwelt. He was a master of the sword, but he used those techniques to control an even greater destructive power. He reached into his kimono and loosened his weapon from its holster.
“Vagrant and Ronin Sakamoto Ryoma from Tosa!” cried the fully armored man that just kicked in the door with sword drawn. “You are under arrest by order of the Shogun for suspicious behavior and treason against the Empire.” The wooden support column beside the man exploded into a cloud of splinters.
A smoking Smith and Wesson .45 smoldered from his hip. He was a master shot with the pistol and did not miss. His bullets always went where he intended. He wanted the man to know three things: (1) he had a gun, (2) you cannot possibly dodge a bullet (this was an important lesson since Ryoma was sure none of these men had ever seen a proper gun), and (3) they should be afraid.
It was because of warning shots like this that Ryoma would later get the reputation of never taking a life. Ryoma thought this was an unlikely claim. He’d shot a few people in his career, and was bound to have killed at least one of them. He pulled back the hammer on his revolver.
“I treason only against the Bakufu . Now the Emperor has always had my full support.” Calmly Miyoshi and Ryoma held the doorway with only the threat of their superior reach. “I think you should retreat. We hold the terrain and you’re numbers are pointless.” He was reminded of the Sparta at Termipoli pass he had read in military histories while founding the naval academy.
One of the samurai in the back charged them both before he was cut down with a flash of gunfire. Now the real fighting would begin. His palm fanned the Smith and Wesson’s hammer and gunfire dropped the first row of men. Ryoma then slipped behind the large man Miyoshi and replaced the spent shells while Miyoshi dispersed any organized charge of soldiers a slash of with his great spear. Ryoma snapped the cylinder of his revolver back in place and circled around Miyoshi to mow down anyone in the front row he deemed too close.
Ryoma held his calm watch of the door only pulling the trigger when he saw one of the soldiers move. Suddenly they surged forth and Miyoshi cut down their front
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