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"Words"
The city of trees remained only as a silent, yet watchful audience, as several men began to navigate through the twists and turns of the forest's wooden maze. These apparent navigators were soldiers, based on the attire of their clothing and the obvious presence of their weapons worn close to waist level. This strange absence of sound was heavily noticeable on the ears; indeed, the feelings of uneasiness began to creep up on several of the backs of these young men who ventured forth through the foliage. From their behavior, these people had revealed that they weren't here to wage a battle over this soil - perhaps not at this moment - but rather to assess the environment for any potential hostilities. The fall of footsteps gently waded through the lake of grass and fallen leaves that remained scattered across the floor as the soldiers penetrated further into the wooden bowels of the forest. The sun, which had now begun to descend to the horizon, heralded the call for the end of the day. The sky slowly began to contrast itself with one end vividly luminous and the other obscured with the shades of the forthcoming nightfall. As the splintering rays of daylight recede from the ground, the forest trekkers continue on with their search. One by one, each of the men looked towards the other and gave a nod, a gesture which assured no enemy presence located on these grounds. This was good news, so far, as the need for safe territory had been on the rise since things have taken a rather serious turn. With their enemies, the Meiji, already having equipped themselves with some of the most advanced weapons possible, terrain control would inevitably become a huge factor in the outcome of battles soon to unfold.
Amongst all these scouts followed a particular individual, one who bore black hair which complimented greatly with his healthy fair complexion. The very threads of his hair swayed with each step he took, which didn't seem to faze his focus on the environment. His clothing consisted of the usual hakama and kimono that is usually befitting of a samurai. He wore a formal set of bracers over his hands, of which had been retracted away from their sleeves. Instead of having his hands through his kimono's sleeves, he had them pulled inside of his robes, crossing them over his stomach in a rather slouching sort of way. His violet eyes belied his rather lax appearance, brimming with attentiveness to detail and change. However, he did not let this go all the way over his head, as all he did was merely acknowledge the surroundings and continually moving forward while maintaining a very acute and open mind. This perceptive, yet serene gentleman was Ryuzoji Kenjirou, a man whose reign of power is held over these men around him, who were actually his subordinates. His sword rested on his left side, a standard for which most swordsman go by; after all, it's not often to see a left-handed swordsman, so wearing one on the left was more or less expected. "Kenjirou-san..." someone said to the swordsman, addressing him by name. "So far, surveillance reports that there are no hostiles located within the perimeters. Should we call off the sweep and return back to base?" The who was called Kenjirou stopped in his tracks and turned slightly to his inquirer's direction. "Hmmm... we could do more, but we might be exhausting more manpower than required. Very well, tell all the scouts to pull back. We're done for the time being."
Ryuzoji Kenjirou was this man's full name, a man who wishes nothing more in this world other that to attain the greatest of its martial treasures. Preferring to sharpen his skills over than to believe some sort of patriotic ideology, he was the sort of person who would see job as nothing more than it actually was: a job, no more no less. If anything, his sentimentality extends only as far as trying to finish a task as efficiently and smoothly as possible, such is the case happening right now. From a tactical standpoint, Kenjirou saw no further use of the men to use up any more stamina. After all, the sun was setting, which meant that it's very likely for ambushes to occur at night, and Kenjirou knew quite a lot when it came to sneak attacks. Although his methods might seem less 'sophisticated' and 'respectable', nonetheless, they held a certain degree of potency that the Kyokujitsu felt necessary as an edge to help win this war. "Are the horses ready?" Kenjirou questioned to his subordinates as he managed to make his way out of the thickening of the woods. He slightly kicked off of an elevated root that obstructed his course and landed nimbly without much effort. "Sir! It's here, all prepared for immediate departure." Deep down, this young swordsman was quite content that the end of their scouting mission had finally reached its end. He could now get back to the one thing that mattered: technical perfection. 'If only I could find that elusive Yang Scroll as soon as possible. The last thing I want are a bundle of foot-soldiers and peons becoming heavily reliant on me.' Although not made apparent, at least not to the infantry, Kenjirou always did carry a certain degree of displeasure when it came to serving the Kyokujitsu.
'At least we're rallying back now,' he murmured mentally while walking over to his private horse. Placing one foot in the stirrup, Kenjirou used one hand to steady his sword while using the other to grab hold of the harness. As soon as he was fully mounted on top of his steed, Kenjirou was caught by surprise with urgent news from a worn-out courier. "I BRING URGENT NEWS! THE MEIJI CLAN! THEY'VE DISCOVERED THE LOCATION OF THE HEADQUARTERS!! FIRE ATTACK HAS SPREAD ACROSS THE VILLAGE!!!" Such a distressing message was alarming indeed, given the secrecy of the group. Kyokujitsu always did seem more like a volunteer group than an actual formalized military, at least in Kenjirou's eyes. They were full of dreamers and romantics that entrusted their lives to the code of bushido, which was really nothing more than a delusion in Kenjirou's eyes. Just like other people, Kenjirou saw that these swordsmen only wanted to close themselves off to worlds where they could hold control over what happens. It was far different for him. Only a person who has struggled against the uncontrollable chaos could truly 'evolve', as long as they have the ambition to move forward; Kenjirou was not about to return to that world of stillness again. Averting his mind from criticism to decision, Kenjirou suddenly spoke in a relaxed, yet confident tone, "Obviously, this isn't the place for us to be. Let's head back to the head-quarters! There are definitely those in need of support and aid! Let's hasten!" Holding firmly to the reigns, Kenjirou goaded his horse to sprint away, and sprint away it did. Accompanied by several of his men in tow, Kenjirou kept his attention on the path ahead.
Like before, his thoughts did betray his appearance. As composed as he was on the outside, it was the inside that laid his anxiousness. He did consider his sister's well-being, which he soon dismissed as irrelevant as he knew she'd be in good hands. However, what was continually nibbling his mind was the attack itself? According to more of the information provided by the messenger, it was done by a massive fire arrow volley, which was surprising, given that they knew the coordinates of the headquarters. To some degree, Kenjirou couldn't help but feel that the mysterious disappearances of Kyokujitsu members that occurred beforehand foreshadowed this whole ordeal. 'Perhaps I'm just being paranoid here. I can't say for certain if there is any definitive correlation.' For the most part, Kenjirou was a man of logic and reasoning, so he wouldn't find these facts to be fulfilling of his judgement. Keeping himself close to his galloping equine, he endured the numerous discharges of the force emanating from the hoof impacts, but he certainly did not let that stop them. His gaze focused on the rising pillar of smoke that jutted from the horizon line where a seemingly small town adorned a glowing red crown; this sort of sight was all too familiar for the level-headed captain. "WE'RE ALMOST THERE!" he assured his men. Already, he decided on his first set of plans and chose to exact them the moment he was a few feet away from the proximity. "SPLIT UP INTO THREE GROUPS! I WANT ONE THIRD TO LOCATE SURVIVORS THAT HAVE BEEN BROUGHT OUT OF THE BASE AND HELP SECURE THE PERIMETER! I WANT THE OTHER THIRD TO SCOUT CAREFULLY AROUND THE LOCATION FOR ENEMY PRESENCE AND INFORMATION! LASTLY, THE REMAINING THIRD SHALL ACCOMPANY ME INSIDE! WE COMMENCE IN FIVE SECONDS!!"
By his sole command, Kenjirou's men did just as he commanded them to do. Two of the three parties he divided went off to their assigned posts, leaving the remainder guided with him. "Ready when you are, sir!!" One of the soldiers roared in anticipation. Kenjirou did not turn around, instead he simply sighed out disdainfully. 'I couldn't ask for anyone better...' was what he thought to himself, dabbled with sarcasm. Shrugging off that lingering feeling, he rode on through the burning furnace that was once the Kyokujitsu base. Any of the wandering stragglers who were still present were starting to undergo some of the suffocation that the flame-induced smog produces. Pointing his fingers their direction, Kenjirou had a few of his subordinates help escort them from out the burning premises while continuing on with the advancement. He soon came across what appeared to be subordinates from Kyokujitsu's other unit. "We still have others here, including some of our captains! Some of them stayed behind to ensure the safe passage of the civilians!" Kenjirou merely nodded in acknowledgment before replying back, "Very well! Head on back! You all look spent! We'll take it from here!" As soon as they were about to leave, the Third Unit Captain then asked a question from one of them. "About the fires, where did they take place." The one addressed to came forth and replied back, "We believed it was the infirmary. That was the first location we've received news about the fire attack."
Kenjirou was triggered to raise a brow, as if suddenly having his curiosity stirred. "Is that so? Well in that case, here's what I want you to do. I want you gather a good amount of wagons, at least six. I want at least three of with sake. The remaining should be filled with anything that could burst into flames, especially lantern. Just due us all a favor, and TRY not to let it catch on fire." One of the gentlemen of course was startled by such a proposal, as any sane man would. "Sir, that's easier said than done. It's downright suicidal!" Kenjirou soon defended his claim. "There is no way we can fight, not in this condition. But if you all wish to live in order to see another day, then you will do exactly as I tell you. Meet me before infirmary as soon as you can gather the supplies." The subordinates reluctantly complied, and ran off, and Kenjirou provoked his horse to continue advancing towards the infirmary, whilst accompanied by his own men. As soon as got to the head of the infirmary, the flames that surrounded the establishment urged Kenjirou's horse to rear itself on its hindlegs, a loud neighing reverberating from its mouth. "It's only the flames, relax," scolded Kenjirou to his steed, which was rather strange, given his current circumstance. "I don't suppose anyone else happens to be in there?" He was hoping for a no; it would make his job a hell of a lot easier... no pun intended.
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