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Hi, Folks. Well, since I apparently can't keep threads straight in my head, I took a theme deck to Tucson with the following story that I wanted to post for your enjoyment and critique. It's not my best work, but I think I got the point across (and Nishijo, Kinihara, and Kusamoto needed screen time). I'll be posting the deck sometime this weekend. Let me know what you think (and yes, I know some of this may not be canon).
Kusamoto's Army
A thematic 2011 Kotei deck and original story by Lon Schlittenhart
Shortly after the events of the aborted Winter Court…
Matsu Nishijo collapsed onto her tatami mat, panting and exhausted from another grueling
training regimen policed by Akodo Seiichi. Today, they had practiced close-combat maneuvers
after a 10-mile forced march in full battle armor. At first, she had been grateful for the extra
protection from the elements, as the snow and wind cut through all but the thickest protection.
After an hour of sinking into the muddied ground from the oppressive weight dragging at her
every step, however, she was rethinking her initial position. After three hours, her feet numb
from cold, sweat frozen to her clammy skin, she began praying to the Kami for an actual war to
break out. It took all her will to just finish the most elementary of the katas before dismissal. All
things considered, it was a good day. Only four of their number had fainted, collapsed, or been
sent to the infirmary with severe frostbite.
With a groan, Nishijo leaned forward and began removing her armor, her raven-black hair
spilling out from underneath the Lion-maned Kabuto gifted to her at the conclusion of her
gempukku. She smirked, remembering the look of total disbelief on the Ikoma boy’s face as
she had handily beaten him in three practiced sweeps of her boken. Of all the tests she had
endured that day, the whirlwind of praise and ceremony, the exultant feeling of besting someone
bigger, stronger, older, and more experienced than her in single combat was the one thing from
her gempukku she would never forget. She was certain he wouldn’t soon forget it, either. The
ribbing he’d received from his fellows about being beaten by a 15 year-old girl was probably still
going on.
A blast of arctic wind whistled through the tent as Kinihara stumbled in and quickly tied the
slitted opening closed again. It didn’t stop the cold entirely, but Nishijo was more grateful than
ever at the ingenious Ikoma brainchild that was designed to keep the worst of the elements out
while still allowing for maximum portability.
“Did Seiichi-sama keep you again?” Nishijo asked, taking in her friend’s disheveled, shivering
state. “I hope he actually let you have some water. He talked about not allowing anyone who
broke step to drink until this evening.”
“Oh, he relented in that,” Kinihara said acidly, flexing her hands to recover some of the feeling
in them. “In fact, we had all the water we could handle after rebuilding the camp’s southern wall
with nothing but iced mud and snow to work with. I’ll tell you, I’ll never make a good Kaiu.”
Nishijo shrugged. “Well, settle for being a good Matsu, then. We’re predisposed to that, after
all.”
Kinihara grimaced as she pulled off her fur-lined gloves. “Some of us more than others, I
guess.”
“Oh,” Nishijo said, rising to warm herself by the small fire in the middle of the tent she shared
with the tall, lithe samurai-ko, “I’ve fallen down plenty of times while slogging through this
muck, Kini. It happens to everyone.”
“You’ve broken rank once, Nishijo,” Kinihara replied, “and only because you were carrying
twice your weight in equipment and didn’t say anything until you fell on me, unconscious. And
don’t call me Kini; it’s unseemly and shows too much familiarity with your subordinate.”
Nishijo sniffed. “You know I hate being in this position, Kinihara-san. I didn’t ask to be made a
Gunso. I’m too young, too inexperienced. And I need at least one friend around here.”
Kinihara sighed and lowered herself gratefully to her mat. “Young and inexperienced I’ll give
you, Nishijo. But I’ve seen commanders before, and I can tell you that you’re it. You have
natural talent at giving orders and having people obey them, simply because they believe in
them. They believe in you. And so do I. But, as far as a friend, I guess I can be that. Even
though,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “you’re an absolutely insufferable
perfectionist. And your voice is too high-pitched.”
Nishijo laughed. “You’re just jealous of all this grace and beauty, Kini. It’s no shame to admit
your own unfortunate shortcomings; in fact, that is the beginning of true wisdom.”
Nishijo easily ducked Kinihara’s flung glove and was rising to retaliate when a stentorian voice
from outside stopped both women cold in their tracks.
“Matsu Nishijo, report to Lord Seiichi’s quarters immediately.”
Nishijo’s girlish smile disappeared instantly. Akodo Tsudoken’s voice was both unmistakable
and implacable. “Hai!” she shouted. “I will report at once, Tsudoken-sama!”
“See that you do, Nishijo-san. Lord Seiichi is not in a mood for dawdling.” The crunching of
the snow under Tsudoken’s purposeful tread as he strode away only served to punctuate the
silence in the tent. Nishijo silently began gathering her partially-discarded armor and quickly
fitting it back into place. Kinihara, still as a statue since Akodo Tsudoken’s interruption, sat
back down and slowly removed her helmet. Nishijo spared her an uneasy glance.
“See?” Nishijo said, pulling back on half-frozen gloves. “Still think I’m perfect?”
Kinihara shook her head. “I never said you were in the first place, Nishijo. But you led us well
today. Maybe he wants to lavish you in praise.”
Nishijo snorted and was greeted by a face full of gritty, windblown ice as she untied the tent flap.
“You have known Lord Seiichi longer than I have, Kini. When has he ever lavished anyone
with praise?”
She stepped out of the tent, closing off the elements from Kinihara, who laid back on her mat
with an exhausted groan. “Well,” she said to the empty tent, “never, but there’s a first time for
everything.”
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Akodo Seiichi’s personal quarters were spartan, taken up almost entirely by a large map table
stacked with after-action reports, troop movements, supply manifests, and a forgotten cup of
tea that was slowly freezing. Even though this position had afforded him an abandoned but still
structurally-viable farmhouse to serve as his command headquarters, a luxury in these bleak
times, the thin walls did no better driving away the cold than the troops’ tents.
Seiichi, for his part, didn’t mind the cold, having stood watch countless times during the last
winter war against the Khan. The chill from the weather could be ignored, but the one he got
every time he surveyed the positions of the other generals who were fighting and dying to buy
the Empire one more day of life against the destroyers was far worse. Seiichi was nothing if not
a pragmatist, and it didn’t take a tactical genius to come to the conclusion that the Empire would
be an overrun, smoldering ruin in a matter of months if something drastic didn’t change soon.
Seiichi would be the first to admit that Akodo Shigetoshi, the Lion Champion, had prosecuted
the war in the Crab provinces brilliantly…and yet the entire front was on the verge of collapse.
Seiichi had been standing at the map, not moving, barely breathing, for what seemed like hours
when a soft rap on the door interrupted his dark thoughts. “Yes, enter.”
He looked up to see Matsu Nishijo, his young protégé, step inside and bow deeply at him.
“Reporting as ordered, Lord Seiichi. You wished to speak with me?”
Seiichi smirked, always refreshed by Matsu directness, even if sometimes their lack of tact
and decorum left him cleaning up minor political gaffes along the way. For the past 6 months,
under direct orders from the Voice of the Empress himself, Seiichi had slowly been gathering
as many of the best, brightest, and most zealous Lion Samurai he could. While many of the
reassignments made sound strategic sense, the real reason was to fuel a new generation of
Justicars in service to the Empire. While the honor was immense, Seiichi had been warned by
Togashi Mitsu not to announce the presence of the Justicars within the Lion until such time as
the current crisis had been stamped out. They would deal with the inevitable political fallout
then.
Seiichi straightened and stretched his back, hearing the faint popping and crackles that only
served to remind him how young Nishijo was and how quickly he was aging. Was I ever that
idealistic, that driven to prove myself? “Indeed, Nishijo-san. I take it that Kinihara and the
others believe you have been brought here for punishment from your ogre of a general, resulting
from some slight, real or imagined, against my person?”
Nishijo straightened and shrugged imperceptibly. “The thought probably crossed their minds,
Seiichi-sama.”
Seiichi grunted and stood up from the map table. “Well, we’ll make up something appropriate
for them to further be terrified of. So,” he said, crossing his arms and circled toward
her, “you’ve had all of three days in your new position with my army. Opinions?”
Nishijo frowned, glancing at the dire story the map told. “Well, if you were looking for soldiers
to turn the tide against odds that even Benika- and Kenji-sama’s forces can only hold at bay, and
then not for very long, I am sorry to say you are about to be disappointed, my Lord.”
He chuckled, moving slightly to block her view of the map. “I’m not looking for miracles, girl.
Let me worry about the Destroyers at our door, you worry about the snake already in the house.”
“Yes, Lord Seiichi. And I have nothing new to report at this time. The men and women under
my command are committed to stopping the gaijin hordes ‘at our door,’ as you put it. I cannot
speak for Lord Tsudoken or Ryozo’s troops, however. Although I surmise you may have more
of a…connection with them.”
Seiichi pursed his lips, hearing the hesitation in her voice. “Someday, you must tell me what we
Akodo ever did to wrong you, girl. Is our relationship so trying? Is that it?”
Nishijo shook her head. “No, not at all, my Lord. I live to serve the Lion in any capacity the
Kami see fit to grant, and while I may find this obfuscation of our nature and purpose somewhat
distasteful at times, I understand the necessity. And you have been nothing but very patient and
kind with me, my Lord, and for that honor I truly thank you.” Nishijo pursed her lips, nervously
tapping on her obi. “No, my problems with certain elements of the Akodo are more…personal,
my Lord.”
“Hmm,” Seiichi said thoughtfully. “Not personal enough to preclude you working closely with
one whom I have just swayed to our cause, I hope?”
Nishijo narrowed her eyes. “If we both truly serve the Empress, then no, my Lord. Does this
mean we are changing targets?”
“No. In fact, he will be able to assist you in more closely scrutinizing Seppun Tashime in the
coming weeks.” Seiichi shook his head. “That it would come to this: suspecting a member of
the Imperial families of treason.”
“He has been at the heart of several sightings of these ronin monks everyone has told wild tales
about, has marched to the Shadowlands and defeated one of the great Oni lords, and was present
when our forces were attacked behind the main lines during Lord Yoshino’s march on the
Khan,” Nishijo shrugged. “I find it unbelievable as well, but there are too many happenstance
events that follow him around. Even if he is not guilty of treason, he draws out the elements we
are searching for.”
“So we use him, rather than judge him? I’m not sure that is any better.”
“No one asked if you liked it or not, my Lord. What is, is, regardless of our desires.”
Seiichi looked up sharply, his face darkening. “Mind your tongue, Nishijo-san. My favor can be
as easily lost as gained.”
Nishijo colored, casting her gaze at the floor. “My deepest apologies, Seiichi-sama. I have
shamed myself with my temper and insulted you in the process.”
Seiichi relaxed his jaw and sighed. “Forgiven, Matsu Nishijo. That caged fury I see in your
heart was one of the reasons you were an ideal choice as a Justicar. If occasionally it is turned
on me, well, I was the one responsible for your recruitment. One can only play near a furnace
for so long before getting burned.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied demurely. “So, if I might ask, who is this Akodo I will be
working alongside?”
“Well,” Seiichi said, moving to the side door of the room, “I could say he is a war hero, and
greatly respected by his peers, but considering those are the only Akodo left alive at this point, I
don’t think would help you very much in narrowing things down.”
Seiichi slid the door aside and motioned to someone in the adjoining room. Nishijo saw a sharp,
thin, yet somehow familiar silhouette bracketed in the shadows, and then a very plain-looking
man stepped into the light of the room.
The man and Nishijo’s expressions of total surprise would have been comical had Akodo Seiichi
been watching. As it was, he crossed back to his map table, oblivious of their consternation.
“Matsu Nishijo, it is my honor to introduce you to Akodo Kusamoto, who I am told will be an
invaluable asset to-”
Nishijo recovered first, snapping closed her jaw and turning a smoldering expression on him.
“We’ve met, my Lord.”
Seiichi looked up, finally seeing the identical looks of mistrust and resentment from each of his
guests. “Uh…I’m sorry?”
“We have a long and involved history, Lord Seiichi,” Kusamoto replied in a deep baritone.
“And how have you been, Tsukiri?”
The young Samurai-ko ground her teeth at the name. “My chosen name is Nishijo now, father.
I would appreciate it if you would at least respect that choice, as you have respected no others I
have made in recent memory.”
An awkward, embarrassed silence followed, and was only broken as Seiichi sighed heavily and
scrubbed a hand through his beard. “I think my life just got imminently more complicated…”
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“You really told everyone you knew that your father was dead?! That he died in the Khan’s
march on Toshi Ranbo?”
Nishijo sighed heavily while attempting to pull into herself more to avoid the biting cold. It was
futile, but she couldn’t seem to stop trying. The remainder of the meeting with Lord Seiichi
had been one of the most difficult10 minutes of her life. At least he had concentrated on their
objectives and target, rather than ask the tougher questions she knew would be reserved for her
and her alone at a later date.
“Did it occur to you that I might actually want to know where you were, that you were doing
your duty to the Clan, that you were still alive?” Kusamoto fumed. “None of that ever crossed
your mind, hmm?”
“Honestly,” Nishijo said, just as acidly, “after our last conversation before you left to join Lord
Yoshino’s reprisal army, I thought it best to remove myself from your sphere of responsibility,
father. If I remember correctly, you used the words ‘spoiled’ and ‘ungrateful’ a lot, two things I
know as fact that I am not.”
“No,” Kusamoto said, pulling them both to a stop, the wind whipping his topknot nearly into
his eyes. “What you are most certainly not, daughter, is some…some…hero out of legend like
he is trying to make you! You are not the judge and Magistrate for every gaijin or ronin scum
you come across! You are not Lady Matsu reborn! Didn’t you learn anything from those stories
I told you growing up, Tsukiri? How long did those so-called heroes you used to idolize live?
A year? Two, if they were lucky? This is not the life I wanted for you. This isn’t the life you
should have chosen!”
Nishijo closed her eyes, her lip curling. “My name, father, is Nishijo! And if you are so set
against me or anyone else following Lord Seiichi as one of his Justicars, in service to the
Empress, beloved by all, to serve her and thereby protect the Empire, then why are you even
here? Why did you decide to break your own rules you made the rest of us live by?!”
“SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO!” Kusamoto roared, towering over his daughter. “Do you
not understand, ‘Woman of the West’?! Can you not comprehend why?! I volunteered! I
volunteered so no one else had to lose another son, another daughter, another…”
He trailed off, pursing his lips as the blinding snow swirled between them. “Another…wife.
Not again, Nishijo. If I can buy the Empire one more day of peace…if I can buy you one more
day of happiness away from the horrors I know are waiting for us out there, then any sacrifice,
any hardship is worth it. Make no mistake, Lord Seiichi has put you directly in harm’s way.
We’re on the front lines of one of the most desperate wars our Empire has ever fought. And
believe me when I say, daughter, that I would give anything…anything…for you not to be here.”
Nishijo stood absolutely still. She could not, despite her best efforts, reconcile this man with the
hard-hearted disciplinarian she had known growing up. Had the war changed him that much, or
had he always been hiding behind the unfeeling façade he had projected to her during her youth?
Kusamoto took a deep breath, looking back up at his only daughter with eyes tortured by the
unceasing terror only a father could feel. “That’s why, Nishijo. I may not have been the best
father, I may not have been there for you when you most needed me, but I never forgot my duty
to you. Not once.”
Nishijo nodded, licking her windblown lips. “I know that, father. I know you would never shirk
your responsibilities: to me, to mother, to the Empire. But I have responsibilities now, as well.
And the reasons you volunteered are the same reasons I accepted when Lord Seiichi came to me.
Nothing is more important for the Lion than defending the Empress and the Empire, nothing!
You and I were born for this duty, father. How could I have said no and still call myself Lion?”
Kusamoto sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Your mother would be very proud. Myself…well,
you’ll have to forgive the occasional outburst of sanity in the face of you charging into danger,
I’m afraid.”
Nishijo smiled and was about to reply when movement out of the corner of her eye made her
snap her head around. Kusamoto’s hand immediate strayed to his daisho as he saw his daughter
instinctively drop into the first technique. “What? What is it?”
“Movement,” Nishijo replied simply. “30 yards, closing on Lord Seiichi’s headquarters.”
Kusamoto drew free and stared into the snow, willing to see anything through the white haze.
“Are you certain? I don’t see anything.”
“You haven’t been training for weeks in these conditions and gone snow-blind six times because
of it. Trust me, it’s there. But, something is…wrong…about it.”
Kusamoto’s eyes widened. “Wrong how?”
“I don’t know,” Nishijo replied. “Almost like…a shadow, maybe. A blur.”
“No,” he gasped. “Just like the Winter Court…”
“What?” Nishijo said as he took a lurching step toward Lord Seiichi’s quarters. Wordlessly, she
dropped into a fighting grouch and drew her own sword, preparing to follow, when something
that looked like a spark flared into life inside the commander’s bedroom.
With a dry cough, the entire house exploded in a blinding detonation.
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Heat. Light. Movement. Then silence. A ringing in her ears that drowned out the camp noise
and the howl of the wind. Spots dancing like fire spirit before her eyes. Then, impact in the
packed snow, knocking the wind out of her with a surprised “oof!” and sending her sword
spinning into the darkness. Sight and hearing returned, but too slowly. Orange light, cries of
rage, and one voice. Familiar, imploring.
“Nishijo! Nishijo, get up!”
“I’m up, I’m up,” she protested. Head spinning, lost in memories. “It isn’t time for lessons
already, is it?”
Her eyes focused on the figure shaking her back to the present. All around her, the camp had
exploded into a frenzy of activity. Ashigaru ran for the tethered horses, trying to calm them
before their wild bucking caused a broken leg. Samurai emerged from tents, some still dragging
on boots and armor, as they ran for defensive positions around the perimeter. All of this Nishijo
noticed only peripherally, her eyes fixed on the burning ruin of the small house Lord Seiichi had
taken for his headquarters.
“No, oh Kami no,” Nishijo whispered, forcing herself to her feet. Hundreds of aches and pains
dragging at her every movement. “Is he…?”
Kusamoto shook his head, angrily swiping blood from a superficial scalp wound from his eyes.
“He was thrown clear. Tsudoken is attending to him. Follow me.”
As quickly as her body would allow, Nishijo hurried after her father to Seiichi’s side. She took
one look and knew that while he had survived the blast, it wouldn’t last for long. A grievous
wound ran from his neck nearly to his hip, blood pumping the snow underneath him to a bright
crimson. Akodo Tsudoken knelt next to him, trying in vain to staunch the inexorable flow. He
looked up as Kusamoto and Nishijo kneeled beside him.
“Destroyer assassins,” Tsudoken spat. “Just like the ones that infiltrated the Winter Court and
killed Kurogane and so many others.”
Kusamoto nodded. “Nishijo saw one of them, but I didn’t make the connection until it was too
late, Tsudoken-sama. Forgive me.”
Tsudoken shook his head. “Nothing to forgive, Kusamoto-san. I didn’t think they could get past
our guards and wards. All of which are dead and didn’t trigger, by the way.”
“Ku-Kusamoto?”
Nishijo stiffened as her father bent closer to Lord Seiichi. “I’m here, old friend. I’m with you.”
Seiichi smiled, blood leaking out of his mouth. “Guess…you didn’t…have long to wait…for
the action…did you?” The smile faded as he reached up weakly, grabbing Kusamoto’s kimono
as tightly as he could. “I didn’t know…she was your…daughter. Please…believe me. I
would..never have…”
Kusamoto closed his scarred fist around Seiichi’s hand. “I know. But she’s here now, so she
can serve. What would you have of us, my Lord?”
“They’re coming,” Tsudoken interrupted, cocking an ear toward the darkness. “I can hear them from
the south. Not even bothering to mask their movements.”
“Kusamoto…Nishijo…” Seiichi released his hold on Kusamoto and pulled his battered, well-
used tessen from his obi. Miraculously, it hadn’t been dislodged by his flight through the
darkness. With infinite care, he took both father and daughter’s hands and placed them on the
worn handle.
“Do this…one thing for me…win. Win this war…together. For the Empire.”
Nishijo felt the warmth of her father’s hand, the hard steel of the tessen, the weight of duty, as
she watched the light in Lord Seiichi’s eyes go out. Together, they stood, still holding the war
fan between them. Akodo Tsudoken set his jaw, staring at the tessen, then at both of them.
Whether or not he approved of his former commander’s decision, his duty was clear. “What are
your orders?”
Kusamoto looked at his daughter, seeing the resolve he knew was in his own eyes reflected in
hers. “Sound the assembly, Tsudoken. The sons of Akodo go to war.”
“And the daughters of Matsu join them,” Nishijo said, reaching down to retrieve her fallen
katana.
Tsudoken bowed and hurried to rally their troops, as Kusamoto and Nishijo stood staring to
the south, seeing the army arrayed against them. Wordlessly, they shared a glance, saying
everything that needed to be said in one look, knowing that finally, after so many years of
misunderstanding, they would never abandon the other again. With a final breath, a final
steeling of nerves, a final look to ensure that their army was behind them and awaiting their
orders, both raised their swords and shouted defiance into the darkness.
“FOR THE EMPIRE!”
_________________ Lion Clan • Samurai • Tactician • Justicar • Team R*U*N • Swift Sword Daimyo "He is cunning where his brother is reckless, bold where is brother is brash. Only the Fortunes could help any who face the two of them together." - Akodo Seiichi 2010 Denver Top Lion, 2nd Overall 2010 GenCon Top 8 2011 Denver Top Swiss 2011 Kansas City Top Lion 2011 GenCon 2nd Chance Top Lion Velo75 wrote: I used to be a Kusamoto hater, and now I heart him Got Lion? www.thelionclan.com
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