"I’m telling you I don’t have any valuables on me. You’d be better off robbing someone else…!" Worn sandals and a straw hat with holes should have signaled to these bandits that this traveler wasn’t in possession of anything worth accosting him for. But perhaps this group of burly men, whose own clothes had seen better days, were down on their luck and desperate. They made their demands with arrogant bravado, their threats backed up by the sword they each brandished. If he had to guess, they were masterless samurai abandoned by the new era, their skills no longer valued. In a way, Soujirou could relate; a living was hard to come by for someone whose only talent rested on the sword. If fate could have brought them face to face a few years back, these men might have become allies. Now, though, he was just hoping to walk away without a confrontation.
"So, ah, if that’s all, I’m actually trying to reach the city before it’s dark. If you’ll excuse me…" As calmly as if he were declining an invitation to lunch, Soujirou turned on his heels. Unfortunately, one of the men anticipated his move and stepped in front of his path with a look that he might describe as ‘trying to be intimidating’. Soujirou only grinned back at him, sizing him up in the same glance. Well, so much for walking away…
Misao could hear a scuffle arising from a small corner behind the wooden buildings, and she leaned forward with her ears perked, curiosity rising. A small, pleading voice echoed through the alley, and she caught a few grunts of less savory characters answer, ignoring whatever the other had to say. She shrugged. Might as well take a look and see what's going on. She wasn't dressed in the appropriate attire for a confrontation--should it come to that, she wasn't sure, and judging from the strange cacophony of metal against wood, she figured there was bound to be some sort of destructive dispute--but if a person was in need of assistance...better to act now and ask questions later.
Rounding the corner, she instinctively felt beneath her loose tunic for a weapon, hoping she had had the sense to at least bring some form of protection with her before she left the Aoiya this morning. The outline of a single kunai brushed against her fingertips, and though it wasn't much, it was better than nothing. She flipped the long braid over her shoulder and frowned, peering into the darkened alley and trying to pick up any clues as to who these people were and why they were causing trouble.
"Hello?" Her tinny voice called through the narrow path and when her eyes drank in the sight before her, she immediately regretted it. A group of burly men, their patched shirts and robes fluttering in the thin breeze, surrounded a smaller figure whose face she couldn't discern in the gloom. Each held a sword in his hand pointed at their victim--except for one, who was clearly blocking the lithe figure's only exit.
"Er..." Misao felt her breath hitch in her throat. Perhaps I did not choose wisely.
