[Episode] Black and White

Quest:

White City, while most accurate for a nickname, didn’t quite do the country justice. Stepping onto the island was an experience akin to opening a storybook. From the earth, to grass and trees, even the buildings, everything wore white like it was a coat of fresh snow. But this pale beauty didn’t melt under the shining sun, nor fly away with the wind.

Even when the wind wished otherwise.

Not all appreciated the purity of the country’s color palette, you see. A certain Marine found it unnatural. Unfitting even. Ever since meeting the local nobility, she had been a little... disillusioned. Getting tricked by a bunch of bandits had further shaken her perception of the country. If only she could blow away all this whiteness and see the country’s true colors beneath it... Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so uneasy.

Dressed in the traditional garb of a distant land, the samurai stood out like a sore thumb next to the locals. A pair of sandals tapped softly against the hard cobblestone. With every step, her dark blue dress, a hakama for those in the known, nearly swept the ground. Long and large sleeves of an off-white kimono constantly trailed in a faint breeze that seemed to only follow her. A sword hanging from her waist proclaimed her profession.

If this country was from a fairy tale, then she felt like an actor from a kabuki play...

Stuck in the wrong genre.

Yumiko’s cold, piercing stare swept the street ahead of her. She walked with the calm, deliberate steps of a predator on prowl. People graciously gave way, perhaps wanting to avoid the icy glare. Whispers were traded between the most curious ones. Some bored soul was already spinning a tall tale about how she was on the hunt. In a way, the claim was correct.

The Commander was looking for something... An armorsmith to be exact. Ever since her shameful series of close calls on Mini Oni and here, she had been forced to reconsider her approach. While her meager savings could never buy proper samurai armor, she could at the very least try to find some affordable pieces. Perhaps even chainmail, fortune willing.

Unfortunately the search was going poorly. The busy street was like a rainbow river of people, constantly flowing at its own slow yet chaotic pace. All the buildings with their white brickwork were starting to look the same in her eyes. Every street corner hit her with an uncomfortable sense of disorientation, scrambling the mental map she struggled to paint inside her head.

In short, she was lost.

However, a ray of hope suddenly caught the wanderer’s eyes. A beacon of white and blue shined through the ever shifting mass of people. She would recognize the unmistakable colors of a marine uniform anywhere. They would surely know the way!

Without wasting a moment, the Commander hurried past the thick crowd. She came up to a couple of young men sucking on cigarettes. Their scruffy facial hair most certainly did not meet the guidelines... Silencing the hasty judgement, she clicked her heels together and saluted. “Hail and well met, honored brethren! I am Yumiko, a visitor to this sector, and I would be most grateful for a moment of thy time.” Expecting an equally polite welcome, she gave them ample time to answer.

Instead, the odd woman received a strange look. The two Marines glanced at each other, then back at her. Clearly reaching silent agreement, they dumped their cancer sticks and turned away. One even shooed her off with a dismissive wave of hand. “Ehhh fuggedaboutit.” Together they slipped into the crowd and soon vanished from sight. The thick, raspy comment left an awkward silence hanging in the air.

“...Eh?”


Words: 624
Total: 624 | 5000

Shock subsided slowly. Yumiko’s baffled stare tried to follow the men, but got stuck on the wall of people. She blinked. Once. Twice. Understanding local dialects had never been her strong suit, much to her silent shame, so she struggled to decipher the meaning of the curt gesture. Uh... Fu... Fuu...?

...Wait, what if it meant ‘follow me’?

The puzzled woman snapped out of her stunned state. Of course! It was her who was being rude here. Clearly the helpful men were trying to show her something. She shook the hesitation out of her head and hurried after them. Her gaze failed to find a trace of that particular white against the matching background, but...

A hunter was not easily shaken off a trail.

Yumiko’s sharp nose twitched. She sniffed the air tentatively. Her focus sharpened as she caught a whiff of a familiar scent... Cigarette smoke. Yes, she was sure of it. That very same stench drifted across the air like a ribbon dancing in the wind. Dropping to all fours, she snooped around intensely. ...And garnered several confused stares in the process. The trail was beckoning her towards an alley further ahead.

The alleyway was narrow. Cramped. The surrounding buildings smothered it in their shadow. Kept it out of sight. Years of dirt and dust had painted the white walls with a layer of grim filth. A couple of overflowing trash cans leaned lazily against the wall, mocking the purity of the white streets around them.

Yumiko entered the murky path with the blissful obliviousness usually reserved for tourists. She was sure her fellow Marines had gone through here. In her mind, this was simply a shortcut. Before she could follow the trail, however, a strange, gruff question stopped her. When she stood back up and turned, her gaze found an odd trio.

Two of them were burly, rough blokes, like someone had tried to sculpt a caricature out of bricks. At a glance, they could pass for dock workers with their overalls and beanies. In stark contrast, the third wore a Marine uniform draped cleanly over a lean, wiry frame. His profession and rank were clear to anyone savvy. The only matching accessory between the three was a surly expression.

“I am Yumiko-”

Before the swordswoman could properly introduce herself, however, another presence made itself known. Upon recognizing the graceful garb of a noblewoman, she immediately knelt down and bowed her head. It was only proper in the presence of a highborn.

Interrupting would have been rude, so Yumiko remained quiet. Then again, the sudden reveal did leave her rather speechless anyway. She visibly flinched at the accusations flung at her fellow soldier. 'Enabled criminals...' The two words swirled inside her head. Slowly her expression grew colder.

When the nameless noblewoman asked for the swordwoman’s help, the petty officer suddenly found himself trapped from front and back. “You...!” His goons were no help either, the big louts. In a moment of desperation, he did what all wretches did.

He lied.

“Hey!” He called out to the kneeling woman. “You’re not gonna take her side, right? We Marines gotta stand together. If you help me, I’ll give you te-erm, five percent of the cut.”

A grim shadow lingered over Yumiko’s features. Her voice came out pensive. Pondering. “A Marine...? That I am, ‘tis true.” Slowly she straightened her back. Her cold eyes gleamed in the faint light. “But before that, this one is a samurai.” A very important distinction, emphasised even by the subconscious shift in dialect. “‘Tis my duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I shall never aid a criminal.” There may have been some rich irony in the air, but she certainly didn’t realize it.

The samurai drew her blade and leveled it at the suspect with all the warmth of winter wind. “Petty Officer Cassian, thou stand accused of treason. How do thou plead?” Trusting to a fault, it didn’t even cross her mind to question the noblewoman’s brazen claims. Still, she was willing to give the accused a chance to defend himself. “Explain thyself.” She wanted to hear the reason why a fellow soldier would fall so low.

Sandwiched between the two women in the narrow alley, the three rats had nowhere to run. And a cornered rat tended to bite...


Words: 719
Total: 1343 | 5000