[Episode] Is that a Meito?!

Quest Name: Is that a Meito?!
Quest Category: Episode
Player Participants: Yumiko (-1), Rias (+1)
Planned Location(s): North Blue, Notice
Planned Time Range: 11 February, 1829. One day after the events of "Dinner's Served!"

Summary: While recovering from a harrowing encounter with an elderly woman and her cooking prowess, Yumiko takes time to explore Notice on her own. During her self-proclaimed scouting mission, she comes across a suspicious and inapproriately dressed individual who is in possession of a priceless Meito from Wano. After determining that the invidiual is, beyond a reasonable doubt, a thief and a pretender, the samurai takes it upon herself to retrieve the precious blade.

Rias, meanwhile, finds her average day interrupted by a strange woman making wild and rather rude accusations. Her words simply won't get through to the stranger. An argument soon escalates into a wild chase. The commotion is enough to gain the attention of local Revolutionaries, who decide that the woman wielding a legendary blade would be much better as an ally than a prisoner for the Marines. Chaos ensues.

Samurai. For many it was just a term to describe a warrior from Wano country. However, for some it carried serious weight. It was far more than a mere title to be used haphazardly. To be a true samurai, one had to meet many requirements, like sufficient honor and right gender. Furthermore, it was a strict way of conducting oneself in daily life. A samurai did not feel fatigue, hunger or fear.

...But even a samurai could suffer from indigestion.

Such was Yumiko’s blight, as she slowly wandered along the busy streets of Notice. She clutched her stomach, nearly doubled over. Her fair skin was even paler than usual, with a hint of green. She gritted her teeth, trying to choke down the pained groans. Beads of sweat dripped down her brow. Her vision swayed.

Facing that old woman... had been a mistake...

The weasel woman’s current predicament was all her own fault. ...Well, perhaps she also placed some blame on Ryoichi for dragging her into the situation. Nevertheless, she was the one who had so brazenly accepted the challenge. And now she paid the price in the most agonizing way she had ever experienced. It felt like there was a stone in the stomach, weighing her down.

In stark contrast to the suffering samurai’s serious visage, all around her people smiled, chatted and even laughed. High above, the sun smiled with them and the playful breeze danced around them. The weather was nothing short of wonderful. It would’ve been a shame to waste it inside.

The Commander desperately eyed the store signs around her. Apothecary, apothecary, apothecary... Gah, there had to be at least one here somewhere! She didn’t dare to waste the ship doctor’s valuable time and medicine with her meager troubles. As a proud warrior, she would fix her own mistakes.

Rounding a corner rather carelessly, the weakened woman accidentally stumbled right into someone. She staggered backwards, falling painfully onto her behind. Her currently non-existent tail curled in agony. The imaginary stone rolled in her gut, threatening to burst through her throat. Urgh...

Upon recovering from the impact, the warrior Immediately scampered onto all fours and slammed her head against the pavement. “This one apologizes a thousand times for bumping into thee!” Blood trickled from her forehead, as she carefully lifted her gaze from the cobblestone to look the stranger in the eye.

Wait, did her eyes deceive her, or was that...?

[405/5000]

Indeed, the samurai’s eyes did not deceive her. The stranger before her was wearing a kimono as well. Seeing just the dark hem was enough for her to recognize the cloth that reminded her of home. Slowly her gaze trailed upwards, studying familiar sight. Ah, the color and the cut were in the style of-

The line of thought was slashed short.

Yumiko’s jaw dropped. In a heartbeat, her pale cheeks flushed red enough to challenge a tomato. The cold composure melted away. She recoiled backwards, nearly stumbling again. Her trembling hand aimed a sharp, shaky point at the stranger. “C-cover thy shame!” She barely managed to blurt it out through the shock. It was a highly inappropriate way to wear a kimono! How had this brazen woman dared to leave home looking like that?!

Embarrassed for both of them, the marine swiftly averted her gaze. “Nay. A samurai does not get hurt by something like this.” ...She vehemently claimed, while still clutching her gut. The aching had gotten worse... Or maybe it was just her poor tailbone protesting by radiating waves of pain across her waist.

Warm blood continued to trickle, painting a red streak across the samurai’s blushing features. She didn’t notice. Her mind was preoccupied by the string of strange reveals. A kimono, a peculiar blade, a strange twinge piercing her heart at the sight of...

Wait, a peculiar blade?

The swordswoman’s attention suddenly focused on the captivating sword at the stranger’s hip. “Thy blade looks sharp...” She mused quietly. While she was by no means an expert in swords, she did have a certain eye for them. An instinct. She could tell a worthy weapon at a glance. And this one seemed... unusual.

Finally, Yumiko managed to gather her courage and composure enough to glance up at the stranger. She could only hope the brazen woman had found enough sense to close that... that... shameful display window!

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Slowly... Carefully... Yumiko’s gaze crept upwards... Only to find the offending window still wide open. “Gah!” She recoiled with a startled gasp. D-did they get bigger just now? Nay, it was not possible. Had to be just a trick of posture. Briefly she pondered something very rude about this shameless woman possibly being part cow.

Much to the Marine’s growing frustration, the oblivious questions made it clear this poor soul was several syllables short of a Haiku. “No, everything is not okay!” She clarified vehemently. Honesty was a virtue she embodied. “Thou should be ashamed of t-t-t-thy... b-b-” But there were certain things she simply couldn’t say.

The mere offer of more to drink made Yumiko’s stomach churn. It interrupted her stammering. The pink blush found a friend from a green tint. “N-no thanks...” She tried to politely push the offer aside. There were far more pressing matters at hand. Matters of dignity and modesty!

Even discussing swords was only a distraction. “Nay, mine is nothing glamorous, merely a blade rescued from the scrap.” ...One that the swordswoman briefly fell for. As soon as she realized the fact, she shook her head vehemently. “But that is beside the point!” She couldn’t believe she got caught up in the odd stranger’s pace like that... Like getting tricked and side-tracked by a playful kitsune.

Suddenly, with practiced swiftness and grace, the samurai yanked off her kimono. “Here, cover thyself!” She tried to cast it over the shameless woman’s shoulders like a protective blanket. If Rias didn’t avoid it, she would end up wrapped like a cheap burrito. The samurai was persistent too, willing to chase her target several steps before getting the hint.

Only once the stranger was sufficiently covered up, or out of reach, the Wano woman finally stepped back. With a stern stare, she flew right into a motherly sisterly lecture. “Thou should be more aware of how thou conduct thyself! Women should dress modestly and not walk around showing so much skin.” She fumed, while wearing naught but a hakama and white wrappings around her chest. Then again, with bindings that tight, she could’ve almost passed for a man...

Meanwhile, the constant commotion was gaining idle attention from the surrounding crowd. Many curious eyes focused on the two women. Questions were murmured back and forth. What was going on? Was it an argument? And why did one of them tear her shirt off?

[1130/5000]

While the two swordswomen argued, they gained more than just a curious glance. On a distant rooftop, a spyglass focused on them with a fleeting glint. A shadowy figure shifted, trying to get comfortable on the tiling. It let out a pondering, masculine hum.

“Hey, take a look at this. What do you think?”

Another shady silhouette stirred. The spyglass traded hands. Soon, a set of pearly whites twisted into a lecherous grin. “Ooohhh yeahhh, that’s what daddy likes... Look at that sleek black barely hiding the best parts... Curves just the way I like it... I would give anything just for one night alone with-” The questionable praise was cut short by an annoyed huff.

“Yes, yes, but what about the sword, you dolt?”

An incredibly awkward pause ensued. The two shadows exchanged a strange look. “...I am talking about the sword. What are you talking about?” The second one defended himself, much to the silent, slack-jawed shock of the first. Since there was no response, the shadow went back to peeping.

“Anyway, it’s kind of hard to tell from this distance, but I think that might be a...”

Ah, hold that thought. Things were getting heated down on the streets. It didn’t take eavesdropping to hear the exchange. Words were being flung back and forth with growing intensity. And a very particular one struck a nerve.

Yumiko’s left eye twitched and teeth gritted. How could a single word hold this much cutting power...? “I am not a miss, I am a samurai!” She snapped on pure reflex. Holding her head high, she placed a hand to her flat chest. “So ‘tis completely different for me! A samurai is dressed as long as he has his blade.” She unflinchingly insisted.

The Marine aimed a sharp point at the shameless scoundrel. “Showing thy ‘things’ is precisely the problem. Thou should be more mindful of how thou present thyself.” She couldn’t stand women who flaunted their looks. Preying on the weakness of men... It was trickery of the worst caliber!

Wagging a scolding finger, the samurai kept lecturing the wrapped burrito. “For starters, kimono is a cloth of tradition. It represents modesty and purity.” Folding her arms, she stared intensely. “To bare the skin beneath is the same as casting away thy modesty entirely. Thou were practically nude.” A firm nod underlined the dramatic (and incredibly old-fashioned) claim.

Hypocrisy, thy name is Yumiko.

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It was only natural that having found a weakness, the foe would target it mercilessly. Yumiko was no stranger to such underhanded tactics. Usually she could harden herself against insults and let them slide off of her cold confidence. However... Certain words pierced right through the icy barrier and stabbed at the soft heart within.

And the foe was relentless with her verbal blade.

Each slash carved deeper and deeper into the warrior’s composure. Slowly her fingers curled, balling into trembling fists. She gritted her teeth, trying to cage the furious words within her mouth. Yet when the pressure became too much to bear, some broke free. “I do not assume. ‘Tis a fact.” She was in no state to elaborate though. Not quite yet...

The samurai glared quietly, as the brazen woman disrespected both the cloth she had been given and the blade she carried. Such a beautiful weapon in the hands of a scoundrel... She couldn’t stand it. “Stop pretending to be a samurai...” Her heart ached... twisted... flared with a strangely painful flame. “And stop calling me a miss...” It was too late, she could feel her voice growing to an angry shout.

“Women cannot be samurai!”

The shout echoed across the street, leaving a grim silence in its wake. Yumiko trembled. Her voice wavered weakly. “It takes more than a blade to be a samurai... I cannot expect a villain such as thee to understand...” Her head drooped. The long locks of hair cast a shadow over her features. Something glimmered softly in her eyes... Before she hastily wiped them. “But I cannot let thee get away with this either!” Right, she had a duty to uphold.

Aiming a dramatic point at the pretender, the samurai raised her head and her voice again. “By the power granted to me, I, Kamaitachi no Yumiko, place thee under arrest!” She had tried the easy way, now they were doing this the hard way. “Thou stand accused of indecent exposure, possession of stolen goods and obstruction of justice!” This individual was, beyond a reasonable doubt, a scoundrel, a pretender, perhaps even a thief. It was her duty to bring her to the correct path. By force, if necessary.

The pointing finger shifted onto the beautiful blade. “Thy ill-gotten goods are forfeit!” There was no way this brazen villain had gotten that sword honestly. Fueled by righteous fury, the warrior brought her hand to the grip of her own blade. “Surrender now or face the consequences.” There was something to be said about a road paved with good intentions...

Meanwhile, the silhouettes on the distant rooftop sprung into action. “Oh, this ain’t good.” One of them muttered, while the other nodded quickly. There was a hasty shove. “Move it, chowderhead. We need to bail out that babe and her blade, pronto.” Moving in well-practices and nearly synchronous panic, the mystery duo promptly fell down from the roof. Trash cans clattered in the alley below.

[2023/5000]

Akin to glass meeting a sledgehammer, the shout shattered Yumiko’s composure. She was used to hearing many kinds of insults from villains, but this one always cut the deepest. Before the pain even fully registered, she already snapped back. “I am not a woman! I am a SAMURAI!” Her voice wavered with a mixture of fury and desperation. She was trying to convince herself as well.

But the doubts gnawed at her like hungry rats...

Deep down, the samurai knew her accusations were just an excuse, born from anger. Her honest soul fought back, refusing to accept this result. The accused was right, the charges carried no weight. And yet... Despite all that... Her honor demanded compensation for the wounds it had been inflicted!

The weasel woman grit her teeth, trying to find something, anything to say. What would her superiors do...? Well, her first Captain would have told her to ‘kill them all and let God sort them out, or something’. Okay, a bad example. Sir Anton would have... Her cheek throbbed with a sudden sting of phantom pain. She flinched. Not exactly a good example either. Then... What could she do...?

“My duty.”

The answer to the dangerous question was swift and simple. A villain who had no respect for rules or people couldn’t be allowed to run free. This woman... was no different from a pirate. Thus Yumiko drew her blade and exhaled a gust of wind... The doubts were silenced by unflinching focus. Right or wrong, this was her role. To maintain peace.

By any means necessary.

Just then, something whizzed from the nearby alleyway. Yumiko barely managed to pull her head out of the way, as a crossbow bolt sank into the brick wall next to her. She raised her sword, only to get engulfed in a blast of purple, blinding smoke. People shrieked and coughed.

Two figures burst out from hiding. One of them dashed over to the busty swordswoman and offered a leather-gloved hand. “Come with me, if you want to leave.” The manly voice requested sternly. Another more nasally voice immediately grumbled at this. “Live, you dolt. It’s live.” It was followed by quiet muttering, something about being paired up with an imbecile.

However, before the two heroic souls could make a daring escape, a whirlwind formed out of nowhere and blew the smoke away. The woman of winds aimed a threatening glare at the duo. Recollection sparked in her gaze. “Thou are...” Yes, she had seen them... In bounty posters!

“The Marine Hunter, Van Talling.”

The tall, leather-clad man tipped his wide-brimmed hat mockingly. “In the flesh!” He took aim with his crossbow, finger nearing the trigger. Numerous daggers gleamed in the holsters of his trenchcoat.

“And the Mad Chemist, Doctor Yes.”

The short, bespeckled man in a lab coat scoffed. “Oh, you’ve heard of me? Flattering.” His tone was as venomous as the colorful liquids sloshing in the vials that lined his belt.

Yumiko took a stance, brandishing her blade. “Aiding and cooperating with the Revolutionaries is a serious crime.” She felt almost... relieved... that she finally had a proper crime to act upon. “Guardian Knights, form up!” On her command, uniformed marines rushed to the scene, some still carrying shopping bags or lunch sandwiches. Duty tended to call at inconvenient times.

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---

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Complications like these were the last thing the Commander wanted today... She had gone too deep to back down now. Letting a villain run free would’ve been a blow upon her pride as a Marine. She could only try to finish this quickly.

Just when the samurai was about to dash after the fugitive, however, her full stomach twisted itself into a knot. “Gah...!” It painfully protested the mere idea of any sudden movements. She could feel yesterday’s monster meal threatening to come back up to haunt her.

Sadly, Yumiko had never learned when to give up... She brandished her blade with renewed determination. Her senses sharpened and eyes focused, tracking the fleeing woman. That villain... was still within her range! “I will not let thee get away!” She slashed the air several times, sending a series of curved wind blades flying. Even when she sheathed her sword, one final slash carved the air like a shimmering sickle. [MT - Weasel's Fangs] [LT - Weasel's Tail] [LT - Sickle Wind] [UT]

Van Talling, the faster and braver of the duo, suddenly dashed in the way of the projectiles. Twin daggers flashed, as he deftly deflected the slicing winds. Only a couple managed to barely nick his broad shoulders. “Eesh, never seen a human fire quite that many flying slashes in a row...” If he was worried, he didn’t show it.

Doctor Yes, meanwhile, had a more practical view on things. “Then it stands to reason that she is not quite human. Stay focused.” He reached into the depths of his lab coat and hurled a vial sloshing with sickly green liquid. It twirled across the air, far too fast to dodge.

The swordswoman made the mistake of slashing the vial in two. Sharp reflexes were not always a good thing. The green liquid splashed against her blade and hands. [LT - Corrosive Agent] With a sharp sizzle, the sword rusted beyond recognition in a matter of seconds. Similarly, red chemical burns spread like a rash across her hands. Gritting her teeth in pain, she dropped the sword.

Staggering in agony, the Marine was an easy target for the dynamic duo. Another bolt pierced the air... And her thigh. [LT - Bolt 'Er] Refusing to cry out, she stubbornly stayed on her feet. The two foes rushed her with a flashy combination attack, punches and kicks galore. [MT - Dynamic Duo] Narrowly she swayed past them, only staggering back from a stray strike. [UT]

As much as the Commander loathed to admit weakness... She could not catch the villain on her own. “Men, I shall keep these two busy! Capture that shamelessly dressed swordswoman!” Her command was met with puzzled stares. A couple of careful whispers asked, which one...? ...Until she actually pointed at the right target. “The one with the orange hair and black kimono!” Much better. Now they got it.

A whole gang of goons rushed after the so-called criminal.

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---

   

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Hesitation continued to weigh like shackles on the samurai’s limbs. Her burnt hands trembled, as they continued to clutch the ruined blade. Questions haunted her mind, with one in particular eating away her focus. What will you do now...? She grit her teeth, trying to assure herself that she had answered it correctly the first time.

The relentless foes took notice. Exchanging a quiet nod, they wasted no time pressing the assault. The surrounding walls provided the perfect stepping stones for a daring dash and leap. Moving in practiced unison, the duo put the blazing sun behind them.

A splash of blue liquid forced the Marine backwards, as she narrowly avoided getting soaked a second time. But it had only been a distraction... As she stepped back, a hail of bolts nailed her feet to the pavement. Before she could even cry out, the foes were upon her. She was slammed against the harsh stone with a nasty crack

Yumiko coughed crimson. The pain tore her out of the thicket of hesitation. Instincts took over. She swung the rusty chunk of metal against the foes with enough force to shatter it. A mighty gust whirled around her, sending the enemies into the walls. Shards of rust scattered into the violent winds.

Both sides needed a moment to find their feet...

The samurai cast the remains of the ruined blade aside. She took a decisive stomp forward, shaking her feet free of the bolts. “When one fails...” Her open hand reached for the sky. Howling winds dropped another identical sword into her grasp. “...another takes its place.” Losing a blade was not an issue. There were more. There would always be more...

Gasping for air, the dynamic duo prepared for another attack. “Human or not, she won’t get up after another round of those...” Van Talling mused, while his less chatty friend only reached for more flasks. Brandishing their weapons of choice, they rushed in again.

A deep breath hissed between Yumiko’s lips. Her glare narrowed with icy intentions. In a blink of an eye, she vanished. A chill wind blew through the street. With a blur of motion, her form reappeared behind the two foes.

All motion simply... stopped.

Slowly... Gently... The samurai sheathed her sword, ending in a quiet click. Silent seconds crawled by, until... A burst of red painted the street. Cleanly cut halves of a crossbow clattered against the stones. A flask cleaved in two shattered as it fell, spilling noxious stains onto the ground. This fight was over.

However, the Revolutionaries were notorious for their grit. No one got far against the World Government without plenty of it. Despite suffering heavy wounds and losing their weapons, they showed no signs of staying down. Or still for that matter.

Van Talling, the more robust of the duo, was quicker to recover too. He hobbled over to his friend and hoisted the thing professor over his shoulder. “Okay, change of plans... Tactical retreat!” His teammate coughed and cursed in response. He reached weakly into his lab coat and dropped one last vial. A burst of smoke swallowed the street, covering their escape.

Yumiko wanted to rush after the suspects. Her body, however, wanted to simply keel over and give up. ...Which it did, pretty much. She collapsed to one knee, gagging and gasping. Various kinds of aching, throbbing and burning agony danced all across her body. Once again, she had gotten careless... Now she paid the price.

Fellow Marines rushed over to their Commander. One feared that she had been poisoned by the weird chemicals. Another one, obviously not a medic, suggested she could try throwing up to purge the poison. The third hurried off to get a real medic over here.

The helpful suggestions were met with a firm glare from the swordswoman. “A samurai shall not waste food!” She declared, already struggling to stand up again. It sparked an exchange of puzzled looks in her allies. Food...?

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