CHAPTER FOUR ; THE CLASHING SOUND OF RULES AND FREEDOM
"It saddens me to inform you that the Flower Hashira has decided to step down from her position. She will no longer serve this organization due to her husband being ill. We appreciate all of her efforts and the service she had done to us. May she be blessed by the heavens."
The announcement of Oyakata-same regarding the resignation of one of the vigorous members of the Hashira disheartens Himejima Gyomei, the Stone Hashira for he was a close friend of the said woman.
He could remember how she was gentle and also assures Gyomei that the people within the organization can be trusted during the times he was having a strenuous time after the incident that happened one year ago, in the temple.
A year had gone, and Himejima slowly but surely felt at ease with his newfound hope and family. He was indeed happy and satisfied with all the things he has done in less than a year or so. To protect innocent lives and help the weak, he felt the pumping of his blood igniting as he obtains solace within the corps.
"Namu Amida Butsu," he whispered to himself as drops of tears came rushing down his face.
"Pardon me, Oyakata-sama," Himejima straightens up his stand once he heard one of the Pillars asking for permission to speak.
Finding the source of the voice that was not far away from him, he looks in the direction. The man who pardoned himself from the head of the organization clicks his tongue in irritation when he scans the area, looking for someone who was not there.
"It seems as though the Hashira with a crimson hair is not likely to appear any second of this meeting."
That perked up the interest of everyone who was in the vicinity and closed to the area. They've come to the conclusion that every meeting, the said Hashira is nowhere to be seen nor to attend, thus, making her absent from the annual assembly of the higher-ups. Himejima could only agree with the commentator, knowing that he only once saw the female slayer after he became a Hashira and never to be spot again.
Someone from his left side clears his throat, "I would like to agree with the other pillar, it seems that we never see her in action nor a joint mission. Why is that, Oyakata-sama?"
Himejima blinks, "You dare to question, Oyakata-sama?" his booming voice startled everyone who kneeled before their leader. The way they disrespect Ubayashiki Kagaya in his own household does not sit well with him.
"If you want to question her presence, why not ask her? As an hashira, I believe you have the capability of doing so." another one voices out, and chatters among the fellow Hashiras started, not even letting the 97th leader comment.
One raises his eyebrows, "How could we possibly do that if none of us have interacted with her nor even had a glimpse of her? She's always missing whenever we have a gathering. With that, we reject the notion of asking her." he exclaimed as if he was spouting a mere-fact to everyone in the estate.
Even the kakushis who were passing by couldn't help but agree with the statement. Ever since the proclamation of the said Hashira being one, no one has known her name nor her breathing technique. However, Oyakata-sama briefly explained that she had saved the three previous pillars from their demise, and the probability of her meeting the Demon Lord has a high percentage since she always encounters twelve kizukis in her missions.
And that's one of the reasons why Ubuyashiki Kagaya held her tight, wrapped around his slender fingers as if his life depends on her chances. He believes in her raw power, yet, Oyakata-sama could not comprehend why he does not see any future within her. His foresight could not tell, nor his intuition.
It felt like there was a barrier between him, the future, and the crimson-haired slayer.
"My children, are you done?" everyone who has been throwing their own opinions towards their comrade halted what they were doing.
The chattering mess was silenced by the hushed wind coming from the trees, a calling on how irritated nature has been with their nonsense.
He breathes in and slowly exhaled. He sent a gentle smile towards his subordinates and all of them could feel as though their low-spirits suddenly lifted by a mere beam coming from their leader.
"I know a lot of you have been wondering [Name]'s whereabouts," confusions were featured on their faces except Himejima whom has been listening intently. "[Last Name] [Name] is the name of the Hashira you speak of." Oyakata-sama continues.
"So, she has a name." someone replies and everyone hushes.
"Before she accepted to be one of you, she made a deal with me." unison of gasps were heard. No one had the guts to make a deal or request to Oyakata-sama, and having this news to them was a shocker for everyone. The head of the corporation could understand why, but, it was also his decision to comply with the slayer requests.
"May we know what were the three things she had discussed with you?"
"I can only tell you one out of those three, my child."
Each person made eye contact with each other. Conversing mentally to have an agreement whether to know or not about the conversation. A few seconds passed by and an answer was heard.
"We want to know, Oyakata-sama."
He gave an approving smile. He could reminisce how confused and in awe he was when he made those commands to him. Ah yes, it never felt like a request. It felt like he needed to follow whatever orders she would give to him.
Thus, alternating the word "command" to "requests" so that no one would know the true story behind it.
"One of the three things she requested is that to never let her lend a hand to other slayers or Hashiras. She will only pick those who are worthy enough for her service."
Echoes of disbelief and disappointments filled the air. Opinions were thrown to one another but two questions that held in the thick air that surrounds them are:
Were they unworthy enough that none of them were given any assistance?
What are the other two deals that this so-called [Name] request from Oyakata-sama?
Oyakata-sama could only respond with a smile on his face, an unwavering gesture that never seems to faze anyone but if a person looks a little closer or closer than what she did, maybe they could see what [Name] has perceived behind his facade.
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The lanterns that are hung in the mid-air created an illuminous glow under the bustling madhouse that settle in one of the finest cities in Japan. The thrill and ever so found excitement dazzle each visitors and townspeople at the sight of the animated bright-colored district within the city of Shinjuku.
One of the indoors prominent dojos has accommodated a lot of watchers; men who hollered to witness two skilled men fight for power and dominance has felt their blood pumping through their blood vessels. Screams of cheers and bets echoed throughout the whole arena.
A man with a broad-length shoulder, muscular build, uneven white hair; the longest strand reaching his shoulder and style with three more notable shorter clumps arching up to fall as bangs, had his arms rested on his upper-chest as his eye landed towards his opponent.
The tension that settles between him and another man who looks like a carbon copy of him but much older got into his nerves. With his sensitivity in hearing, the loud rally behind him made his ears bleed. Wanting to clasp his palm on the side of both ears, he was immediately slapped by a wooden stick.
His eyes befall towards the doer of the action. His maroon eyes garnered a statistic battle between his father, known as Uzui Tetsurou.
"If I ever see any weakness on you again once this battle starts, I'm going to kill you myself." his father hissed at him, the snark remark made his blood boil in despise.
Uzui Tengen, the son of the said father of the Uzui clan, balled his fist behind his back. Preventing himself to let out a grinding sound as he gritted his teeth in annoyance towards the man who does nothing but to force him and his brothers to follow his ideals.
"This is your punishment for abandoning your duty as a shinobi, Tengen. If you dare to lose, I will break your fucking neck, do you understand?" the latter could feel the weight of his father's hand as the older Uzui grabbed a full-fist of his hair.
Despite eyes following them as a mere spectator for the upcoming match, they did not even dare to make a move nor protest towards the physical interaction between the two.
Who would want to interfere? For the on-lookers, it seems as the father was only doing a motivational speech to encourage his son to fight, but, even if they knew the intent behind him, no one would care.
All they wanted was entertainment after all.
"Are the challengers ready?" an announcer wearing a hakama stood in the middle of the wrestling ground. Momentarily, the bystanders and wrestling-goers halted their noises, anticipation pervades the sector of the dojo.
Tenge who was sitting at the corner with his father clenched his fist tightly, eyeing at his opponent from the other side. He clicks his tongue in exasperation as he could feel the boring gaze of his father.
An aura emits from his position, and with the sensitivity of his hearing, he heard what his father had said in his mind.
"Die, you imbecile child." not voicing out his wishes, but to his dismay, his son could tell what he was thinking.
It only added the blazing loathe in his system towards his father.
Tengen stood in the middle of the ring where his rival waits for the fight to commence, and when it did, the enemy took the first attack while Tengen defends himself. Shouts of booing and encouraging mixes well together.
But not even once, he heard his father chant for his name to do well. All he could apprehend is the one word coming out from his lips.
'Die.'
He could only laugh as he takes another blow from the other challenger. The smirk that plastered on its face does not unnerve the bitter smile on Tengen's face. He wanted to succeed, to go back home, but the feeling of wanting to escape, wanting to be free was far more tasting than being placed back into the hell-hole that was supposed to be his home.
Blood drizzles down on his nose, lips, and forehead. The dismay and disapproval executions were heard from the crowd, seizing to the conclusion that the white-haired shinobi will not win the match.
He dodges, jumps, and ducks as he realizes that he is losing this his opponent, but a mere fact was that he thought for a moment about the reason for him be alive.
Out of the seven siblings, he and his younger brother were the only two left. At fifteen, five of his siblings died due to his father's forceful ideals and intensive training. The way his father's mind work could not be taken lightly as it becomes the reason why his siblings passed away.
He was enraged. Angered by the unempathetic nature of his so-called father, the person who should have taken good care of them, but this, strenuously shove influenced towards their mind. Implanting a toxic perspective and beliefs.
'To save the clan, my ass.' he gritted.
So, he decided to break the rules. To conquer freedom, but he was failing to taste it.
As his body slumps on the pavement, he coughs blood. Oh, how the cheers of the crowd only boosted the ever so narcissist in front of him. He wanted to punch his rival in the gut, to make him bleed like how he did to him, but he was overpowered by hatred towards his blood.
His eyes wandered around and found the carbon copy of his maroon orbs, the distaste in his father's face speak for itself.
He held a rancorous smile over his face before his consciousness succumbs to the darkness.
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Struggling to walk outside the dojo, Tengen grabbed a wooden stick to support himself from walking the hectic place he was residing in. The populated place only made him hissed in grunts as unknown bodies collided with his muscular and battered form.
"Oh, to have a fucking wife or something," he whispered to himself, making his way downtown, slowly pacing with his hunch back.
He snorted at his own form, he felt a little old for an eighteen-year-old like him. Talk about teenage years and youth. It seems as though it felt a bitter taste in his mouth.
Will he go back home? or stay out in the street until the God from the heavens invites him to walk towards their holy ground? He doesn't know or maybe, he does not want to know anything at all.
To be free is a far-fetch dream of his. To be able to walk without any restriction or to even breathe. How flamboyantly would it be to experience such a haven? How ironic it is to live in a country that made a liberal movement of democracy wherein their own people could not even relish such prerogative.
It only hurts Tengen's brain every time he gets too philosophical for his own liking. How sentimental it was for him. He snorted at himself.
"WOAH! LOOK AT THAT GIRL GO!"
"MAN, SHE'S WINNING!"
"I CAN'T BELIEVE HARUTO-SAMA IS LOSING!"
He felt his eye twitch at the comments that filled his ears, the second he steps foot near the exit of Shinjuku district. Not far away from him was a pile of audience circling something in the middle. He cannot see what lies beyond the middle but with his quick-responsive hearing, he could detect that there was a game in the middle.
Knowing that he does not want to turn back from the clan, moving with his wooden stick as his support, he strides forward towards the crowd. Finding a good spot to watch the game that they were too enthralled to leave their eyes from it. Immediately finding an open space, he went to stand there and his eyes landed in the form of four people.
Two old men, one named Haruto who was known for his despicable play in mahjong, and a female with a deep, vivid shade of red hair. The female was wearing a heavy wine red dress that is clad with a pure black coat, hugging her figure.
Her nails were painted in a color-coded pattern of maroon and magenta patterns. Her luscious plump lips have a tint of ferocious scarlet.
And all could Tengen decipher is that how this female is Fatale being. She was gorgeous, too much for his own liking. A seductress. An enchantress.
Often, beautiful things are always the dangerous ones. Her aura asserts dominance and conviction. He could not comprehend whether he is the only person in the area that could feel her certain vibe.
His orbs sternly obeyed the unvoice command of her fingertips lacing around the small mahjong in her palms.
"Reverse," the seconds she said those words, three of her opponents even the Haruto guy widen their eyes. All of the onlookers' gasps at her sudden throw of gameplay.
The man who's named Haruto boiled in anger after he realizes that he was starting to extremely lose towards the crimson-haired opponent.
"You cannot do that! That's against the rules!" he exclaimed, pure anger and self-doubt laced in his voice.
Fluttering her magenta pupils towards the said mad man-made Tengen blinks in utter awed, "Weren't the judges who said that we could do whatever we want in the game? Thus, solely informing us that we have freedom in this competition. I merely complied." she replied, without batting an eye.
A slump on the rival's throat caught him off guard as he felt his demeanor shift from confidence to uncertainty because she was right after all.
"Now," her eyes landed towards her left, "It's your turn again." the order of the game flipped around.
Tengen who knew how to play mahjong, despite not being a pro-himself was baffled. Speechless. Voiceless. The way the owner of those magenta orbs played with her pawns was magnificent in his eyes. But, he could not hear a thought from her. Or any idea rummaging around her beautiful mind.
For once, Tengen is engrossed. A human without thoughts? Now, that's interesting.
"Riichi," it was her turn again and Tengen overheard that it was her first riichi in the hour of playing. She slides another tile sideways, "Riichi." she declared, "Riichi." went even further and further.
Every heart in the vicinity stops once she placed her final tile.
"Infinite riichi." creating an infinity symbol in the table. Tsumo. Compassed Set. Plus dora neighbor dora neighbor.
Silence ensued, jaw drops, and thorough astonishment was placed within the area.
"SUGOI!"
"HOLY CRAP!"
"WHAT A QUEEN!"
"SHE WON!"
"You!" a hysterical yell came from Haruto, earning Tengen to protect his ears as the said male accusingly pointed his index finger towards the winner of the game. "YOU CHEATED THE GAME!"
The female snorts, "I did not." she said monotonously.
"I NEVER LOSE! YOU CHEATED! TELL ME! WHO PAID YOU TO HUMILIATE ME?!"
She tilts her head to the side, a growing annoyance bubbles up her system, "I am not a petty woman and besides," pushing herself up from the chair she's sitting, she stands up. "I make more money than you."
"I REFUSE TO LOSE! YOU BROKE THE RULES OF MAHJONG! RULES ARE MEANT TO BE FOLLOWED! HOW DARE YOU! YOU CHEATED!"
An exasperated exhale came out from her lips, her crimson hair filled the gaps of her fingers as she combs it with it. Her eyes landed on the figure that could not stop wrongly inculpate him.
"Do not utter these nonsense words at me," [Name] snarls, "The competition itself played an important role in this gamble. Jiyuu tournament itself symbolizes freedom. If you aren't too confident in winning with your basic game plays, you would still lose. You played by the rules, and now you were overthrown. Likewise, nincompoops like you would forcefully shove your ideas and beliefs." she crouches down to Haruto's eye-level. Her voracious gaze fell-upon her opponent's orbs.
A sly smirk appeared on her features, "Too bad, I'm too in love with freedom." and [Name] met the scrutinizing yet twinkling maroon globes of the person who heard all of her words.
It felt like he was hit by a zooming goddamn truck. It was an indirect statement, furthermore, it felt like she was indirectly saying all of those words to him.
Basic plays. Followed the rules. Nincompoop. In love with freedom.
His whole life played out in those cycles and never once intended to flee from its grasps. It may sound absurd to anyone else but, to Tengen, it dawns on him.
She went against the rules and won.
He's too exhausted to abide by the leader.
Wasn't that enough to seek his own freedom?
"Congratulations [Last Name] [Name]-sama for winning the competition! What a spectacular gameplay we all witnessed!"
"[Last name] [Name], surely, I'll remember that name." a grin made its way towards his face, muttering to himself as he walked out of Shinjuku District. "And maybe, I'll make her my wife?" a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.
A push was all he needs, and it fell from the lips of a mere stranger
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proofread and edited on: nov. 11, 2020
thank you for reading!