Home to the Wall
17 December 1998
by Ed Rubin

The trip back to the Crab lands had been uneventful, which was, perhaps, surprising, given the anger that Naoki had laboring with. He knew, on the one hand, that it was inappropriate, but he could not, in any case, control his emotions, and, on the other hand, he felt his anger was justified.

He had been such a novice fool, sprinting into the maw of the beast without even a pause to consider a tactical plan. He had let his anger at the dishonorable, treasonous behavior of the master monk carry him into the fray in an unthinking manner. When the choice was there for the making, he had attacked the monk and not the oni. Some Crab! After the battle, the elation of having been possessed by Osano-Wo had carried him through the physical healing that he had done, but that was soon complete, and afterward, he had been left with the festering wound of his spirit. All that training, all those techniques, all the wisdom he had absorbed from a wide range of masters! And yet, in the end, he had used none of it, he had not even landed a single blow! When his body had healed, he considered seppuku for his failures.

In the middle of one particularly deep contemplation, however, he realized the extent to which, in his travels, he had absorbed also the thinking of the other clans, and he realized how very un-Crab-like his present thinking was. His mind wandered to thoughts of Kataji, and those memories and images led him to begin to formulate a plan more in keeping with the glorious and profoundly honorable tradition of his family and clan. Ishi wanted to enter the Shadowlands to seek out his brother, who, like Ishi, was also Naoki's cousin. Naoki's spirit would be greatly served by joining in that search, and in that voyage he would have the opportunity to make up for his recent, ah, perhaps 'shortcomings' was the best word. Yes, having that purpose lightened Naoki's mood, and the road ahead of him started to seem less rocky...

...Until they had entered the village where the Scorpion minstrel had been weaving his tale. The plot was surprisingly accurate in its outline, but the details had been shockingly skewed. "The Tale of How Otaku Marako-sama and Her Faithful Retainers Defeated the Oni at the Temple of Osano-Wo" began with a divine inspiration: Marako-sama had been out on fierce Motoko, churning up the earth together as they surveyed the land for good works to perform. Osano-Wo had appeared before her with a loud crash of thunder from a clear blue sky. "Go forth, my daughter," the Fortune had boomed, "and clean the stain of evil from my house."

Marako-sama had ordered her head guard, a tall warrior, to gather her other retainers around her, and together they had ridden the length and breadth of Rokugan in a single day, arriving at the temple as the sun was setting. Marako-sama knew her faithful servants were tired, but she could not rest while the stain still lingered. She spoke to them with fierce words of duty and honor, and her inspiration lifted the spirits of her retainers, and also attracted the notice of Kakita Jinjiro, the new Emerald Magistrate of Journey's End City, who was arriving in the area to take up his post.

Jinjiro-san was moved by Marako-sama's words, and joined her in her battle against the evil in the temple. Marako-sama led the charge, crashing through the outer walls of the temple and catching the first glimpse of the oni, still defiling an innocent child that it had chained to the statue of Osano-Wo for its hideous amusement. Startled, the oni looked up, and immediately recognized the proud Marako-sama on fierce Motoko.

The oni blustered, its words sounding hollow when directed at the valiant battle maiden of fame, "Even you, Marako-sama, cannot defeat me! I am greater than the fortunes, I will eat while you still live!" Marako-sama did not respond, but only gave her servants orders to spread out and occupy the attention of the monks who had been perverted by the evil spirit of the oni, so that she might attack and defeat it.

They did, but, sadly, the former monks of Osano-Wo were strong fighters in their own right, and they had been further strengthened by the evil power of the oni. Many of Marako-sama's faithful servants fell in the initial fighting, including her head guard, who thus failed in his vow to protect her forever.

Jinjiro-san was awhirl, however, his lightening-fast katana seeming imbued with the power and fury of Osano-Wo himself. With the oni's guards' attention therefore distracted by shimmering wall of metal that Jinjiro-san constructed, Marako-sama silently signaled to Motoko, who uncoiled like a spring and flew over the heads of the combatants, landing in front of the oni while Marako-sama unsheathed her katana with the well-known and silent stare that she shared with her Otaku sisters. The two faced off, turning, circling, seeking an advantage. There was an exchange of blows, and valiant Marako-sama was injured. The oni gloated, heaping scorn on the tiring samurai-ko. With a silent prayer to Megumi, the fortune of heroic guidance, Marako-sama put all the strength she had left into a single heavy swing of her katana. Her bushido supported her, and the blow struck true, neatly cleaving the oni in half from the head to the belly. The blow was so strong, in fact, that it deprived the oni of the magic that held its form together, and as Marako-sama gracefully slid her katana from between the two halves of its form, it turned to stone, and crumbled to the floor.

The remaining monks awoke, as though from a dream, and seeing what they had done, fell to the floor and simultaneously thanked Marako-sama profusely for rescuing them and apologized abjectly for having fought against her. Marako-sama forgave the monks, and ordered them to repair the temple. She, Jinjiro-san, and the few of her retainers who had survived the battle then turned to the sad duty of paying honor to those who had not.

Naoki had to physically restrain Ishi when the minstrel had mentioned the "innocent child that the oni had chained to the statue of Osano-Wo for its hideous amusement." He had calmed his cousin only by reminding him that it did not matter in the least what the peasants thought had happened at the temple, that this story was no sillier and no more important than the others they had heard on their journey.

"The Battle of Masayoshi Monastery" had portrayed Naoki as a madman, slaughtering fellow Crabs with something that bordered on pleasure, and "How Marako-sama and Her Friends Protected Usagi Castle" was, frankly, a real danger to the vows that they had made concerning those events. Naoki understood Ishi's protest that those vows were stupid, not worth keeping, but he argued that the point remained the same: Peasants tales didn't matter.

Luckily, the two Crabs had more important things to think about than peasants, and the memory of the village and the Scorpion minstrel's tale was soon forgotten. They would arrive soon at Masayoshi, where they could both undergo the spiritual healing they needed before embarking into the Shadowlands to seek out Ishi's brother, and end that story in whatever way was required. Naoki wondered about Togashi Take... no, wait, Kitsuki Takehai-san's wedding plans. He would be sad to miss the ceremony, but he was pleased for the man, since marriage would undoubtedly suit him well, especially a marriage to the lovely Tadako-san.

He thought also about Jinjiro-san and Marako-san, er, -sama, both now undertaking large responsibilities. He hoped that they found the settled life, to whatever degree it was truly settled, satisfying.

As for himself, Naoki was not ready for a settled life quite yet, neither on the wall, nor with any other set duty. He was going to go into the Shadowlands; he was going to see what good he was capable of doing there; he was going to determine how much Crab he had lost since his father and his sensei had ordered him off the wall to explore the interior of Rokugan; and he was going to determine what it would take to regain it all.

He had training that no other Crab had, and he wanted to see whether it would do any good for him. It would do him good just to try. It might purge his soul to defeat the minions of the one who remains unnamed, in whatever small ways he could. It could also kill him, of course.

That might perhaps be his destiny, though without hesitation he accepted that the effort was his duty. With a grin that characterized him even better than the scowl he sometimes wore, Naoki silently vowed that, wherever he was, whatever he was doing in particular, he would, in the end, die while performing his duty, as only a Crab could.