Despite the matriarch's cruel intentions, however, she never got the chance to enact her plan. Shortly after she finished shouting at her crippled daughter, someone knocked on the estate's front door, calling her attention away from the back room. Robin's suffering was well past egregious by that point, and, having reached my own limit on the bullshit meter, I could no longer stand idly by while it continued.
I've never been one to have a bleeding heart, or at least not one I acted readily upon. At one point in my past, I did, but my lack of omnipotence made failure a far more often occurrence than success. Over time, the heavy weight of my innumerable losses took its toll, sending me deeper and deeper into despair until, finally, I erected a wall to shield myself from pain. That cold person most people saw for the majority of my life thereafter? She was not a sign of malevolence or strength, as so many had come to assume. Rather, she was the result of my personal failings and my underlying weakness.
When I first decided to leave Robin alone, my actions were not being dictated by callous disregard or professional caution. I may have told myself they were back at the time, but the reality of situation was more simplistic. I was simply afraid of turning back. I subconsciously rejected Robin because of the similarities we shared. We both had abusive and absent parents; and both of us yearned for a different life where we could escape the judgments of those we called 'family' and 'friends.' Robin was unintentionally reminding me of the girl I used to be, dragging me back from my safe space with merciless kindness and pungent nostalgia. She was trapped the same way I had been at her age – a slave to her own fate – and that coincidence frightened me.
What eventually turned that fear on its head, however, was the fact there were also differences in our prisons. Unlike my own story, where I was saved from destiny's cruel intentions by the help of friends, Robin didn't have anyone by her side. There was no eagle whispering at her bedroom window every night, no woman in her dreams to drive her forward and teach her strength. She remained alone in her situation, and it took Masako's outburst to force that truth through my thick skull. 'No one is coming to save Robin if not for me,' I realized, and so, in that moment, I finally made up my mind – at least after a long series of deep breaths – to burn away my cowardice in hopes of saving a life.
I showed up at the Mori estate's front entrance shortly thereafter, intent on officially recruiting Robin in the eyes of her family. Mrs. Mori was the first to answer my knocking, at which point she demonstrated her profound ability to change masks on a whim.
"Yes," she asked upon opening that door? "How may I help you?" Her ire from moments before was conspicuously absent while she greeted me, almost like a Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde phenomena. She had replaced her frown with a glowing smile, and was now pretending like she hadn't just been shouting at someone in her household. This was likely because she smelled opportunity from me, given my appearance that afternoon.
In the interest of pretending to be a prospective patron, I had chosen the form of a young, wealthy noblewoman to greet the matriarch with: one that lacked all manner of fox traits. I was dressed from head to toe in luxurious garments, and the center piece of my whole attire was a silken kimono that radiated wealth. The purple garment had sunflower and crane imprints scattered across it, each laced with real gold so that the shapes dazzled in the fading sunlight. It was a choice of apparel that could hardly be mistaken by anyone as random.
Simply put, my choice in fashion during that meeting was entirely based on Mrs. Mori's preferences. She was known for her monetary weakness even among her neighbors, and I had overheard some of them talking about it before I even approached the Mori household. She was infamously drawn to money like a hungry peddler eager for their next meal, and she always felt the need to brag about her family members whenever one of them impressed a prospective client. As such, someone like me who looked like a gullible maiden out on a shopping spree with daddy's money was like an irresistible treasure to the matriarch. My naturally fair complexion already helped with that with that image, seeing as white hair was an exotic feature that most noblemen in Nisshoki would kill to have in a wife. My shoddy attempt at a bubbly voice that I used for accompaniment was just icing on the cake of my disguise; all meant to ingratiate myself to the old hag.
"Good evening," is the first thing I remember trying to say in that nauseating. "I'm the daughter of Lord Hiriko, Lady Natsumi, from the Northern provinces of this great land, and my family is here on vacation until tomorrow. Sadly, we've had a bit of trouble that I'm hoping you can help with, Madame Mori. The head of my guard, the only one we brought on this trip, just passed away yesterday, and I find myself needing a replacement. I've asked my father if I can choose the successor to the position, but he only gave me until tomorrow to find someone. I'm hoping you can help me with that." I held out my coin pouch then, allowing the silver within to clink loudly in Masako's ears. "I know it's completely against tradition and that your family may take offense to this intrusion, but I'm very desperate and willing to pay above average for an immediate filling. I don't want to get stuck with whatever old man my father places on me when we get home, and I will remember your family the next time I need to hire: if you can help me avoid that outcome."
Surprisingly, I managed to get through that whole story without vomiting; and also get the matriarch to buy it at the same time. Ultimately, her greed was too strong of an influence on her to ignore a possible rush order, so she eagerly let me inside.
"Of course, of course! I'm sure we can come to an arrangement that is agreeable for both the lord and m'lady." Masako quickly motioned me into her home then, all before promptly calling out to the back rooms. "Tai, Zeke, Kentaro, Hiro," she said, "we have a customer." She took her seat on a nearby tatami mat once she heard footsteps in answer to that call, simultaneously indicating a spot for me to join her. Four men emerged from various directions once I took that seat, thereby beginning the "interview" process.
My quartet of prospects was a group of muscular and fit individuals. Together, they represented House Mori's most readily available warriors, and each member of their group was dressed in uniform as if he had been waiting all evening for a client to show up. Every one of them stood tall behind their matriarch, no doubt trying to appear imposing whilst their mother continued her sales pitch. "These four are the best of the graduates from last month, and they've been in negotiations since then to choose the best fit patron for them. However, I will let you hire one tonight provided you can do what you say."
For a brief moment, I did pretend to entertain those "options"; but, in reality, my attention kept drifting throughout the room during the interview that followed. At first, I found myself glaring at their tallest member, having not forgotten or forgiven him for his callous treatment of Robin moments prior. My anger from that incident was still fresh in my mind at the time, and I had to force myself to curtail it before my emotions overwhelmed me. He would get his punishment, but the interview was not the time for such things.
Realistically, there was only one place my gaze could ultimately settle on, and it wasn't hard to guess. After Masako moved onto Zeke's accomplishments, I cemented my attention on the right hand door at the back of the room. It was the same one that Robin laid beyond, still confined to the floor as she was trying to stand up. I kept thinking about how distressed she must have been, so much so that I eventually couldn't hear my host anymore. She went on and on about her sons' accomplishments, but every word was drowned out by the empathy I felt until, finally, I cracked under its weight.
"Actually," I said upon reaching that threshold of patience, "while I appreciate this selection, I had someone special in mind that I wanted to hire from the Mori household." I overrode my typical, cautious behavior with that one sentence, simply because I couldn't stand the skin-deep courtesies anymore. By the time Mrs. Mori started talking about her third son, I was already begging for her family to give me a reason for violence instead of diplomacy. I wanted to punch their smug expressions right off their faces, so much so that I decided to do everything in my power to goad them. That path started with their pride as it had with Kenshiro, and that was something my blunt personality was perfect for. "I was looking for Robin Taiyo Mori. I heard she just woke up and got released from Master Hayashi today, and also how she managed to survive one on ten against veterans. Most impressive."
Masako Mori's voice lost all sense of joviality once I finally mentioned Robin by name. She still tried to cover her displeasure with blatant lies following my change in attitude, but her expression no longer matched her inflection. Where she still held confidence on her face, her voice wavered.
"I'm afraid I don't know a Robin. There's no Robin in this household." Underneath that wrinkled exterior, the old hag's poise had been replaced by suspicion. She still persisted in her denial despite the unsettling change in pace, but eventually lost all composure when Robin poked her head out into the room. The bandaged woman looked at me in apprehension while maintaining a respectful silence, but was quickly shouted at before she could shuffle into the meeting. Masako was livid, screeching, "You get back in there right now," even as I motioned for the opposite action.
"That's her," I said while pointing in Robin's direction, "I'll pay full price for her services, even though she'll need some time to recover." But Mrs. Mori wouldn't hear of it. The fact that someone was purposefully trying to recruit a non-blood from her household made her angry, furious even. She refused to take such an insult to her pride, so she rejected my offer outright.
"No. She's not for sale, and clearly you came to mock me so you can see yourself out." Standing up, the old woman pointed to the exit, expecting me to leave. I did no such thing.
"I seem to have struck a cord," I calmly said while maintaining my position, "but I'm not joking. I've come specifically to hire Robin, and I won't be leaving without her."
Still, my host persisted.
"Not for sale, I said, now get out before I have my sons throw you out!" Her bravado was shiny, like a gold plated egg. I would take great pleasure in cracking it open when I invoked my final option in the next instant.
"Then I invoke the ancient rite of Chohei with myself as my house's champion. If I lose, you get to keep my gold and I leave. If I win, though, Robin leaves with me free of charge."
Stuck in the Mori family's code, hidden in the middle of the section on enlistment practices, was an ancient tradition lost to the ages. It went by the name "Chohei," and functioned like a trial by combat. In the oldest days of Ataiyo, when wealth wasn't exactly in good supply, those noblemen who needed more guards but could not pay for them could, instead, have one of their pre-existing guards challenge the champion of a warrior house. The winner of these contests was determined by knockout, death or resignation, and the sponsor of the winning team got to collect on whatever terms the contest had been made under. The practice was known as "Chohei," and it was essentially just a fancy name for a voluntary bet involving military force and money.
Chohei's had always been mutual since their inception, but refusing one was traditionally considered dishonorable. The same could be said for making unreasonable demands of an opposing team when placing bets, but, since a lone warrior from the Mori family was not an outlandish request by any stretch of the imagination, Masako couldn't fall back on that unspoken rule to reject me. She had to play along; accept my challenge lest she denigrate the Mori family's honor.
Despite being cornered, however, Mrs. Mori was still confident that she could beat me at my own game no matter who she chose as her house's champion. She still thought of me as the gullible fool - someone to be manipulated rather than respected – and she even tried to stack the deck in her favor while pretending that she didn't care about the contest.
"Fine. You'll be fighting Tai. Take it or leave it." Tai Mori, the supposedly strongest of the four brothers, stepped forth to oppose me at his mother's behest. He was renowned amongst his neighbors for taking down a boar single-handedly at the young age of 13, so surely he would have no trouble against a girl nearly a foot shorter than him. That's how the thinking went, I'm sure. He didn't even bring out his weapon on approach, speaking volumes about how little he thought of my threat.
Masako was counting on me not trying to renegotiate that fight. She was confident Tai could defeat me, and also that I would be too stubborn or naive to admit it. A smarter, more pragmatic version of myself probably would have proven her wrong under similar circumstances, but I was too consumed with linear direction by that point to listen to my own stratagems. I had an overwhelming desire to crush the Mori family's arrogance, so I stood up to face Masako's son when he came forward, not even bothering to change my clothes or take out a knife before I agreed to the terms.
"Agreed." The battle started in earnest then, or at least it did when the matriarch tilted her head in my direction. Tai charged at me while keeping his arms close to his body, then promptly took a swipe at my face with his bare fist. His jab was quicker than I anticipated, so he managed to split open my eyebrow with that first attack. However, that was all he managed to accomplish before gasping in pain.
Despite the force with which he came down on my head and the height advantage he possessed, Tai failed to move me from my stance. Instead, he wounded himself with his own punch, breaking his wrist against my skin. He thought he had been punching flesh and bone, so he used all of his strength with reckless abandon. In reality, though, he was punching a living statue, augmented by magic.
"You know, it hurts when you throw something in someone else's face," I said once this realization sunk in for him. He tried to pull his hand back shortly thereafter, a hasty attempt to regain his composure; but it was already too late for him to correct his mistake. Since I hadn't been forced back like he intended, I was easily able to grab hold of his head before he could escape. Then, with cranium in tow, I forced his face into my hardened knee to give him his own bleeding eye. It had barely been ten seconds, and he was already crumbled on the floor. "Maybe remember that the next time you think it's okay to toss crutches at your crippled sibling."
Strictly speaking, what I had done just then against the Mori champion was considered cheating in some of the older, Chohei books. Magic wasn't looked fondly upon back in the old days of Ataiyan competition, so it was often banned during the earliest duels. That rule was later relaxed under strengthened diplomatic ties with Iria, but the social stigma around arcane trickery in martial combat never fully disappeared. To use magic in a Chohei, even in Robin's time, was considered dishonorable; but, since no member of the Mori family had thought to ban me from using it before our fight began, they couldn't disqualify me for going that route. In fact, they were stuck until Tai lost consciousness, died or conceded.
Of course, by this point in the fight, the eldest son was already a cripple in his own right. He had suffered both a concussion and a fractured wrist from me, rendering him into a quivering mess on the floor. Nothing beyond that point could even constitute a fight, but Masako was too proud to beg for an injunction. She was fully prepared to put pride over the life of her son just to get back at Robin, the same as I was to call her bluff. The insanity of violence and rage that consumed the two of us swirled around the room like a vortex of hatred and death, until, finally, a voice of reason returned to light the way.
"Stop!" Before I could put an end to her foster brother, Robin spoke up and shielded him from me. She had forced herself between us despite her injuries, only to grab my leg with her one good arm and plead for my compassion. "Please, stop. He's already lost. You'll kill him if you continue." I tried to muster something to say to Robin in that state, anything; but I couldn't. As the blood trickled down over my eye from my earlier wound, all my questions went with it. My clenched fists relaxed against my will, and the fog from before cleared as I tasted, for the first time in a long while, the shame of defeat.
Masako had a different reaction than mine, but only for the first few moments of the outburst. She started shouting at Robin again, asking her, "How dare you interrupt this fight?" But it didn't take long for her foster daughter to shame her as well.
"Tai has already lost," she replied, "or can't you see that he needs a doctor immediately?!" The matriarch looked at her son then, giving him an honest examination for the first time since the fight began. She had been so consumed with winning that she didn't see the damage she was encouraging until now. Robin had helped cure her of her blindness, even if she was reluctant to admit it. She eventually found humility in that room, though her grumpy tone remained for the evening.
"Go fetch Master Hayashi," Masako said to her sons in that gloomy atmosphere. They were shocked for a moment, but obeyed in the end, because, ultimately, their mother had to swallow her pride without them. She was willing to sacrifice some family honor for the sake of her son, even if she resented the person who made her see it as an option. She didn't suddenly become cordial with Robin just because of this service, but she did finally relax her stubbornness enough to let her go. "You want Robin," she asked when it was only the four of us left in the room? "Take her. Just get out of here. I'm done fighting."
In the deafening silence that followed, Robin was finally freed from her family's shackles. She had shown more backbone than even I in that place, earning her right to stand tall despite the fact that she still required my aid to do so. The two of us quietly left her family home afterward, bringing with us that gloomy silence until Robin spoke up two blocks away.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," she said, "listen to me. You could have killed him, ended the fight. Why didn't you?" I was giving her a piggy back ride by that point since she forgot her crutches back at the estate, so I had a hard time watching her face and road at the same time while she was speaking. That said, I didn't have to see her expression to know why she was asking that question out of the blue. She doubted her own role, unable to realize her strength unless someone else pointed it out. I tried to be the one to do that, but it ultimately just generated more questions.
"Like you said, he was already defeated. The only reason I was fighting so hard was because I was angry, and I couldn't hold onto that emotion once you started begging me to stop. You were the one who kept me from killing him."
"Why? Why do you care so much about someone you just met? I can't even fight anymore, so I'm of no use to you or anyone else as a warrior. Someone like you doesn't need a cripple like me, so why listen?"
Robin was suspicious to a fault, but her questions did little to phase my persistence or slow my pace. Instead of responding in an irritated fashion to her lack of belief in me – one I'm sure she expected - I just smiled and spoke the truth.
"Because I was like you once. At one point in my life, I was cornered between the streets of hopelessness and fear without knowing where to turn or what to do. That was until I learned something very important. In life, anyone can paint, whether their desired object be a portrait or some intangible, life goal. That lesson helped me when I felt trapped by my own destiny. I chose to paint a new one for myself, and it gave the strength to escape. That strength can be yours too. I know it can, so I came back for you."
Somewhere in Robin's mind at that moment, she finally made the connection between me and the man she thought was dead. She suspected all along that her painting instructor had played some role in saving her life from Kenshiro, but that same thought was accompanied by the dreadful possibility he had sacrificed himself in order to do so. Now that I stood before her speaking as he had for the last month, however, she couldn't help but see the shaggy haired gentleman in me. Those weepy eyes of hers could hardly contain themselves at the thought, and so her emotions burst out all at once.
"Shiro," she cried! At long last, her tears feel for the first time in many years. Robin's face was awash with simultaneous strokes of sorrow and euphoria, and her crying only intensified once I leaned my head into hers. I gave her one final message on the road that night, but only after using my nose to wipe away some of her tears.
"My real name is Natsumi, Robin: Natsumi Yamauchi; and I'm sorry I took so long to come help you."