twenty

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Samurai are warriors bred like no other, brutish beasts in comparison to shinobi, power shelled in steel. There is no focus on ninja arts ; genjutsu and ninjutsu were treated as nothing but silly tricks. Hand seals proved useless in the face of iaido. Shuriken, kunai, poison, smoke bombs, and explosive tags had next to no effect on a samurai's armor, even when wielded by the most skilled shinobi. A balance of physical and spiritual, samurai are a force to be reckoned with.

Hanae was not the most skilled of samurai in her family. Tadou and Tatsui Umu were both respected taisho, helmets adorned with horns and four swords welded to their haidate. Like father like son they both excelled in pure strength and military might. They were the ones to rush into battle headlong, to crush an enemy before they could make their move. They embodied brawn in every sense of the word.

Standing at 5-feet-7-inches Hanae had an adequate reach and strength behind her swing. She excelled in speed and stamina, and was often the one relied upon for knowledge of triage and treatment. But she had another skill, one not learned or passed through blood. A natural skill heightened in few.

Zanshin - a samurai's ability to sense danger. Unlike a sensor type shinobi, zanshin is not an ability to sense chakra. It does not utilize emotion, does not create a physical image of chakra signatures, and does not allow an enemy to be identified. In fact, zanshin had nothing to do with chakra at all. Zanshin was a feeling ; a shift in the wind, electricity coursing through veins, a vice around the heart, the sinking feeling of dread in the pit of a samurai's stomach. It was a sensation that could not be ignored.

And try as she might, Hanae could not push the lump out of her throat today. It had begun the night before, bile swelling beneath her tongue whilst preparing dinner. Sweaty fingertips caused her to drop her chopsticks twice before the twisting in her abdomen chased her appetite away. Her skin erupted into goosebumps despite the steaming bathwater enveloping her up to the collarbones.

The morning fared no differently. Upon waking her heart galloped and forced the woman onto her knees. She clutched at shivering shoulders and fought the alarm clock for silence. Something was trying to warn her, anxiety screaming through her body. Even Hikoboshi seemed to sense it. He screeched upon being summoned, great wings thundering against the still air. Hanae tried to calm the owl, and eventually succeeded through face pats and kisses. But she still took precaution. Yuki no Michi, the wakizashi that had rested untouched above her bed, was secured across the small of her back before the Land of Iron natives embarked on their Tuesday routine.

The water of Konoha's sole river flowed smoothly as ever. Fish lazed downstream and deer drank from the banks. Birds hopped through the branches and sang their morning calls. Nature continued on as usual without a care in the world.

So why had she been so apprehensive? There was no reason. Everything was so peaceful, so natural, so familiar. Still, the unease persisted. Even as she busied herself with unearthing Japanese sweet potatoes, the woman could not shake the dread muddling her mind.

It all happened so fast. 

A shock ran down her spine as a shrill keen filled the air. Without a moment to think, Hanae unsheathed her blade and launched a blue crescent from the chakra shrouded blade straight at Hikoboshi. The owl took flight with a ghastly scream just as an ear numbing explosion launched debris from the village. Over the wall surrounding the village he was safe from the chunks of stone that rained over the farmlands.

A piece of what must have been a home struck Hanae's left side. It threw her back against the white painted fence and came to a stop in the soft dirt. Her arm was pinned between the wood and rock, limb snapped and contorted into an unnatural angle. She howled in agony, retching onto the ground between her legs as shock shook her body. More explosions sounded in the distance. The ground trembled, shifting the shattered bone.

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