***

Evil Courtier was cornered, with his back against the wall. A proper, solid, wooden wall. No bursting through it to escape, with an added benefit of being relatively soundproof. It was Evil Courtier's secret room, after all; here, he was plotting all of his Evil Plots. He made sure that not a soul could eavesdrop on him. It was, for all intent and purposes, his Hidden Fortress.

" Wha...what are you doing here?! Who let you in?!"
Silly Evil Courtiers. Always thinking they are in the charge. That they are the ones asking the questions and composing the answers.
She stepped forward, ignoring his words. She was very good at ignoring what people say. It was kind of her job, really.
Enduring their chatter. Enduring the pain.
Evil Courtier clenched his fists. While his upper body seemed proud and confident, his legs betrayed the truth of his soul. Just like Bayushi's eyes and mouth, they were saying something very different. His upper half tried to project power and authority...while his feet desperately searched for an escape route, a telltale sign of the prey in the face of a predator.

And one of them was lying.
Which one? No need to ask...

But there was no escape. No more steps to be taken.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The only option left?
Endure.

She made another step forward, and the fact that he couldn't match her movement with his made something inside her purr. She wasn't advancing very quickly, but her movements definitely weren't sluggish. They were like fate, like the oncoming storm, like the avalanche, the wildfire, the hurricane and the tsunami - slow, deliberate, powerful and most importantly, unavoidable, inescapable. The tension was rising, the urge was dripping, fingers - itching, soul...humming.
Endure.

"I asked you a question! You shall respect my Emperor-given authority and respond at once, you pathetic...pathetic..."
Evil Courtier was searching for an insult, again trying to make himself bigger. She understood that perfectly. Animals did that when cornered. Bare your fangs, make your fur all WRRRZAH!, and make your opponent rethink their approach. What did you have to lose, anyway?
She couldn't help but smile faintly, thinking what the Evil Courtier had to lose. A lot.

"...you pathetic bushi! BRUTE! Good for nothing swordhead! Uncivilized, ungrateful dog!"
He started stomping. It probably was supposed to be angry stomping of an irritated manchild, who could get whatever he wanted by just snapping his fingers, doing a secret fan move, and saying 'I'm a Courtier, duh'. But it was just a facade. A desperate bluff.
The truth was hidden in shadows, and she was about to extract it.
She was good at it. It was kind of her job, really.
In her eyes, he was stomping like a scared, cornered and desperate rabbit. She had to be careful, as it could easily die from fright, it's tiny heart giving up and stopping too early...
She could care less for his words. The body was the soul, the soul was the mind, the mind was the body. It silently spoke the truth, while words loudly obscured it.

"I've had enough of this! GUARDS! TO ME, AT ONCE! TAKE THIS TRASH OUT OF MY SIGHT! GUARDS!"
Another step towards the fulfillment.
"...g-guards?"
A delightful shiver electrified her spine. His mask! It was cracking! Fear started spreading, like a wildfire. Jumping from his legs towards his torso, catching his hands ablaze, and finally beginning to burn in the way he was speaking, and in his eyes. It was like a song, really. A song of muscles, a song of bones...

"Incompetent fools! I will have their heads...no, their whole families will pay for this failure of duty! Why am I surrounded by idio...wait..."
She stopped. Her whole being was listening. Waiting. Craving what was going to happen next.

"What is...what is this...it cannot be! Is this..."
It is a song! A song! A song of...
"...blood?! How is this even...no...no, no no no, no...!"
A SONG OF BLOOD.

He finally noticed! At last! Did he see the red stain on her blade...? No, no no, movement of his eyes revealed that wasn't the case. He was looking at what was behind her, not at her. She could see that. It was kind of her job, really. It would mean that the remains of his slain guards have been finally silently flowing inside the room, forming a marvelous, joyous and syrupy pool.

Evil Courtier lost all of his composure. Suddenly, he became much smaller. Reasonable enough, easier to defend. Just like how when facing bloodthirsty dogs, your best bet is to throw yourself to the ground, cover your throat and face, and try to reduce yourself as much as possible. And endure. Endure the pain. Pretend to be dead.

Or you could, you know, just kill them all. That worked too.
For her, it worked much better.

Not for the poor Evil Courtier, though.

She was so close. Very close. So, so, so close. But not close enough. The distance! She needed to get rid of it, get rid of it now! Right now! Remove eradicate exterminate the distance! The very space between them!

"Stay...stay away from me!"
At this point, he was trembling and shaking. The wall behind wasn't going anywhere, and he was no Shinobi; he couldn't just pass through it. His body was very confused. He would never make a great, good or even passable bushi. All of him wanted to squeeze through the wood, become one with it, but it was no good, no good at all. He never was taught how to endure. He didn't endure the pain, so it consumed him. In an act of desperation, Evil Courtier produced a knife from nowhere, and pointed it at her, as if it could save him.
It could not. Not because it was a bad knife. It was actually a splendid knife, made with care and love, a knife full of nostalgic desire to return to the old, good days. Days from before it was assigned to this dumb courtier. To the days where it fulfilled its destiny, where it could manifest its purpose.
Where it could be itself and live in happiness.
To the times where it could and did cut meat, trying to avoid bones, because bones were no good, ugly and blunting the blade. No good, no good, bones were no good. Messy. She understood the blade pointed at her perfectly. It was love at first sight, really.

In fact, she felt more empathy towards it than towards its wielder.
It was a really sad, heart-wrenching sight. He was holding it all wrong, and due to his constant trembling and shaking, there was no power, no Earth behind the grip. It was incapable of hurting anyone or anything. It was mercilessly denied of its most basic function. She probably could have literally walked into it and ending up harming him more than herself.

And so she did.

Evil Courtier yelled, and fell, unable to withstand her advancing presence, ending on the floor. Panicking, he tried to gather himself, but due to his weak, courtly nature, he was unable to get up from his knees. She watched his pathetic attempts from above, with a hint of disgust, contempt, and pleasure blooming on her face. It was only a hint, not because the emotions were weak, but because she intuitively restrained her expression. Keeping it that way was kind of her job, really.

"Stay away, stay away, leave me, stay away, you, YOOOOOUUUU MOOOOONSTER!"
Knees under his face, knife again pointed at her with both hands wrapped around it, he was hyperventilating. It was all useless. A waste of precious breaths. And a crime against great craftsmanship that gave birth to his weapon.
And that injustice was the final straw. She couldn't hold herself back any longer.

It was the time.
With a single sweep, she cleared the air, unlocking the space he tried to lock down with his desperate attempt at defending himself. The knife fell to the floor (sorry, knife! she made a silent promise to pick it up and give it some well-deserved love later!) with a metallic noise, along with the flesh that was wrapped around its grip, which made appropietly wet, meaty kind of sound.
He didn't understand.
Maybe he couldn't? He was staring at stark white bones sticking out of the place where his fingers used to be, unable to process what just happened. For him, it was probably like a sudden gust of steely wind, stealing away his fingers like playful Kami of Air steal umbrellas, inviting you to chase them.

"Aa...aaa....aaaaaahhh..."
A pleasant, animalish sounds started coming out of her victim, as he moved his hands closer to his face. Tears started to gather in his eyes. And she, she was excited, anticipating and very, very, very much alive.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
AND THEN, SHE EXPLODED WITH JOY.

His scream was a fantastic, pleasant promise of everything that was about to come. She raised her sword, trying to decide where to start from. She had a noble mission, after all. She had to make sure that this person leaves this world with enough punishment for all of his evil deeds. It was the only way to cleanse his karma, and save him from the hells of having to purify it by going through appropriate spirit realms in his afterlife.
And, fair and simple, she was about to enjoy herself. Fulfill her hidden lust and desire. Become a fully realized human, as a human who is denied what makes them tick, is forever disqualified from being human.
"Nn-no...stop it...I beg you..."
The only suitable thing to do here was to give him the death of thousand cuts, she decided.
"I will give you...whatever you want just...let's talk this through!..."
The problem was, she just wanted one thing. All she needed was the sensation of separating his meat from his bones, severing the muscles and breathing in his blood.
"You monster...You nameless coward...I will find you! You will pay! This won't be left unanswered, believe me! I will find you! I will find out your name, and I will haunt you forever, I will kill you in my next life, just you wait..."
She readied her blade for the first of the thousand swings, but there was one last thing to do. He was right. He needed her name. It was very important.
So she spoke.

"My name is...
Shiba Kiri -

*
Kirikage...My name is...uhehe...hehe...he...eh?"

Kiri-chan was temporospatially disturbed for a moment. She felt like she woke up from a long, deep dream.
She felt that way mostly because that was exactly the case.
Above her, a beautiful tree. Under her, ground. Around her, flowers, sunrays and empty bottle of shochu. And...

"Ah, Kiri-san!...you are awake, yes? I'm sorry if it's my fault."
And, probably most importantly, a kneeling man who was smiling apologetically. Who was holding back a small laughter?
"I didn't want to disturb you, Kiri-san, because you had such a peaceful, pleasant look on your face, and now...now you wear a look of a unamused kitten who had a prank played upon it."
Chuckle. Very funny, apparently. Kiri was indeed not amused and made no effort to hide her grumpiness.
Some people would take offense in that cat comparison, but Kiri-chan didn't. Nobody would. Actually, that's pretty contradictory, isn't it? Her head...ugh. The key to solving that contradiction was this man. And that's because it was impossible to take offense in anything this man said. It was a very annoying truth of the universe that made her elements boil and stir a lot.

He looked at Kiri with a very warm, very kind and very punchable smile.
"I hope it was a great dream. It certainly looked like so. May the Yume-do allow you to finish it later. You certainly deserve it."
Kiri slowly got herself up to a half sitting position, and then moved her eyes towards the man, even slower.
This man had a name. Asako Akira. It was quite an important name, at least as far as her life was concerned. Daily life? She was his yojimbo. And he was her charge. Fantastic, incredible, exhausting.
Nightly life?
Evil Courtier currently wore his face and spoke using his voice. Yeah. Go figure that mess out.

So yes, dear Akira-sama, it was a great dream. The best kind of soft, wet, bloody dream. But if you want, you can help me finish it, just stay still...
Obviously, she didn't say that out loud. Instead, she cut the air with a quiet, sharply non-committal answer of
"...Maybe."
combined with a powerfully rebuking glance to the side, away from the man she lusted to dismember.
...which would be any man or woman, really, so she planted her eyes in the pond. Ponds weren't populated by humans, but they were by fishes. Animals, strangely, were safe from her desires. Good for them. Bad for her. Being able to get her fix this way...would help tremendously.

"I see."
Akira was immune to pouting. He was resistant to many things, and at the end of the day, he would forgive you everything and try his best to make you feel good about yourself, your life and the universe.
And he did it, for many, many people.
But it didn't work for Kiri, and only served to deepen the despair and madness of her daily life.

"If you want to enjoy the beauty of these gardens for a little longer, don't worry. The tea party is starting soon, but I think your comfort is more important than being on time. If a need arises, I will just take responsibility by..."
He was talking. Way too much. She unfocused from the words. The message was clear without them anyway. Stupid words. She let herself wake up, by staring at her own reflection in a beautiful pond.
It was a bad idea, because it reminded her that she looks like a sleep deprived, opium addicted, depressed tanuki.
...Which was somewhat true, just remove the tanuki part, and switch opium for her own "alcohol based herbal remedy", which she used to self-medicated and suppress her...condition.

Her condition. Yeah.

Certain people possessed passions. Some of them really liked, let's say, fried chicken. Some of them really loved beautiful hands and would do a lot to touch and gently caress them. There were many needs and urges and desires, each person having their own.
Without the ability to fulfill them, these people wouldn't be people. They would be just sad, unfulfilled husks, right? Living dead.
Well, Kirikage had her own impulse. It was a rather unfortunate one.

She got up, without a word.
"Ah, are you ready, Kiri-san? Then let's go."
She wasn't ready. She will never be ready. All she could do was to endure. But her well-trained perception picked up the fact that some people were going to go and grab them in a moment. It was pointless and exhausting to wait for them, she decided. Fewer explanations. Less talking. Done quicker. 'Endure and minimize the suffering', was her motto. Not a very cool one, she had to admit, but it worked. So while doing her job was definitely tiring, not doing it would end up being even more bothersome, so...yeah.

Akira talked a lot. It probably was charming. She couldn't tell because, for the most of the time, she wasn't listening. Her Shiba training was filtering his pointless blabber for important keywords, and processing the text of his messages subconsciously, looking for important things. It was a great ability to have, really. Made her duty as a yojimbo bearable. Barely, but bearable.
He was a courtier. He did a lot of talking. He also had a pure, crystal heart. Always saw the positive side of the issue, always managed to notice the good things about people and overall was incredibly likable and just...charismatic. And it obviously annoyed her all the way to Jigoku. He was basically some kind of living saint, and it was a safe bet that someday, Fortunes would descend from the Heavens and ask him "Hi, Akira-dono, we decided that you are amazing enough to join us without this whole dying thing, so what do you think, wanna come?"
And he would smile, laugh apologetically, and say something about how grateful he is, and that he would love to, but he has certain duties to attend to and sadly he has to refuse, but it would be wonderful if they could hang out together at a later date.
And then Fortunes would be really happy about that, and Kiri-chan would find herself puking in some dark corner, unable to endure this sweet perfection of a living saint.

She hated him. Not because he was a bad person, but because he was such a good guy, and most importantly, because he seemed so Crabdammit content with his life. He was plain and simply happy and satisfied! Got a flu? Happy because it was just a flu. Got rejected by the...person he really liked?...Kiri didn't pay enough attention to remember that persons gender...whatever! Got rejected? Smiles and is glad they can still be friends!
This man was unbearable. Nobody even wants to assassinate him or whatever people do with annoyingly competent courtiers. There was one attempt to kill him...but apparently, the would-be assassin couldn't bear himself to execute the contract after watching Akira go around. So he ended up confessing and crying like a little baby, and Akira FORGAVE HIM AND EVEN HELPED HIM FIND A FITTING MONASTERY FOR HIMSELF SO HE COULD START ANEW AS A MONK WHAT THE CRAB AKIRA.
They still exchange letters. It's disgusting.

Well, that whole assassin fiasco thing was before Kiri became his yojimbo...to be fair, she got assigned to him because her last charge decided her shining personality is too much for him to endure, and because that whole comedy of assassination made Akira's parents think "hm, maybe he needs a yojimbo or something".

Kiri was very sad she didn't get assigned to him before the assassination. Because if the assassin would get near Akira with her on standby, she would cut him down before any stupid redemption story could even begin to start happening. A magnificent series of blows, leading to a bloody fountain of fulfillment and fuzzy belly feelings.

And then, Kiri would be happy and satisfied...for the time. Her desire seemed to strangely correlate to the phases of the Moon. She had certain suspicions about that...

The impulse.
The urge.
The need.

All she needed...
...was to kill.

Kiri suffered from a chronic need to perform violence, make other humans bleed, cause them physical pain, and ultimately, take away their lives. It was the element that made her tick, that put her mind at peace, that gave her strength to look to the future with a bright smile and strength to soldier on.

It was her constant companion since always, basically. She always knew that there was something fundamentally wrong with her, and Kiri was smart enough to understand that being so different would only lead to problems. So she did her best to hide it.
She didn't understand it...until she killed her first man, during a bandit attack. Then, it all clicked, and the true despair of her existence began - she managed to experience the true happiness and fulfillment, but she knew that it was fleeting and going to abandon her soon...while also being incredibly hard to reaquire during to, well, being born a Shiba.

Yes. Being born into the Phoenix was the greatest irony of her existence, a curse and cruelty of Fortunes. She was a natural master of killing arts. While she made sure to keep her head down - it required tremendous and exhasuting effort to keep her tendencies down when she had sword in hand after she tasted her first victim - she was actually a master of the sword. Any other Clan would scout her, acknowledge her as a greatest duelist of the generation or something, and then let her do some killing, be it on the battlefield as a bloodthirsty Matsu, or in courts as a death-dueling Kakita or Mirumoto. The Crab would just weaponize her, and Unicorn...she would embrace the Moto way.

But Phoenix? The pacifists? The life-lovers? Nobody recognized her talent. It wasn't that important for them, really. Or rather, they probably intuitively knew that she was all about destroying life, not protecting it, so they just avoided looking at her.
Anywhere else, she would be a hero. An infamous hero, sure, but still a hero. But here? Here she had to hide her true nature from her peers, constantly living in fear of being discovered. And being discovered wouldn't be pretty. She was sure they would try to...fix her...using Air magic, medications, and other personality-warping "rebirth" rituals. And for her, that would be equal to lobotomization at best and practically death of her current identity at worst.
Thankfully, a certain mix of herbs helped to keep the impulse at manageable levels. Glorious self-medication was...well, not very glorious, especially knowing that over the time, her body will grow immune to it. That's why while it started innocent, she had to make it stronger as years passed.
Potentially the greatest killing machine of the generation turned into a drug addict. That's the Phoenix.
She wished she could be born Scorpion. At least she would be respected and accepted, in some twisted way.
But no.

That's why she had to endure, and do her job. Attend the upcoming party. Empty the mind. Let the words fly by, and seek out any dangers. And if things get really boring...start fantasizing. Occupy yourself with the mental projection of a hyopthetical scenario of "I need to kill everyone in this room, how do I do that?"
Endure the pain.

"You are a fantastic bushi and duelist, aren't you, Kiri-san?"
What.
Her mind suddenly focused her attention on a non-irrelevant string of words that left Akira's mouth.
No. No. NO. NO NO NO YOU DIDN'T. WHY ARE YOU SO PERCEPTIVE WHEN YOU DON'T NEED TO BE.

"I know that you are not a fan of these courtly meetings, so I asked a friend or two...and manged to invite a fellow duelist passionate for you! This way you will have someone to talk to and have fun with. Shared passions, yes?"
He was so proud of himself. He really had the best intentions. He just wanted to help her make a friend.

But all he did was make Kiri want to stab herself to death. This was going to be bad. Very bad. Terribly Crabs on Walls level of bad.
The upcoming party spelled out trouble. Duelists were trouble.
CRAB DAMMIT.
*

*

Words were surrounding Kirikage like a mist of hungry, ravenous flies. Buzzing and distracting, inviting her stomach to offer its tribute right on the cold, wooden floor. Patiently waiting for her to drop dead, just so they could devour her body in an instant of a courtly feast of gossip and false smiles.
The official, dignified, courteous and fake part of the party - where tea was still the primary thing being served, and everyone tried their best to act out their roles in the social ritual - still had about half of itself to go.

She was used to the two-faced nature of courts. Her well-trained ears managed to hear a lot about what kind of a weirdo she was when people didn't think she would hear...or didn't care. It happened so many times, with so many different people, that she gave up on trying to maintain a friendly mask. Honestly, it was probably more off putting than her default indifferent and grumpy self. Especially amongst other Shiba. Nature of their duties made them very attuned to insincerity and false faces. Kirikages attempts at pretending to be well adjusted and social made her look like a poorly disguised wolf...who found itself in a middle of a pack of vigilant watchdogs. They could smell it. And it made them bare their fangs, on primitive, instinctual level, ingrained in their elements by thousand hours of training.

And she never wanted to share the fate of such a wolf. She saw it, once. Not in person, of course, but in a picture book she was given as a child. While other children were rooting for the dogs and the gruesome end of the evil wolf was something that made them cheer out loud, Kirikage felt...more connection with the wolf than with the dogs, really. She didn't feel sorry for it, not quite, but...It was its own fault that it good caught, true.
But the odds...they were so stacked against it. It wasn't a lone wolf. It was a wolf who was alone.
While other Shiba identified themselves with the brave watchdogs, she couldn't help but feel like the wolf.

This story left a permanent mark on her, drilling a very important lesson straight into her spine, right through her skull, with a merciless precision of Kunis scalpel.

WOLF CAUGHT BY DOGS WILL BE TORN TO SHREDS.

THOSE WHO ARE ALONE AND DIFFERENT - OUTSIDERS, STRANGERS, AND MISFITS - ARE THE WOLF.

YOU ARE THE WOLF.
NO MATTER THE COST
DO NOT BE FOUND OUT.

Kirikage didn't comprehend the nature of her condition at that point, but it was back then when she started understanding that the number one priority of her life was to maintain secrecy and not be identified as a threat. Kiri understood one thing perfectly well.
The time of wolves was at the Dawn of Empire, when The All Forest covered the whole Rokugan, where beasts and ruthless gods were the rulers of the world.
But now? While the forests still loomed, they were reduced to a shadow of their former glory. Gods became domesticated spirits, and their place in the Empire was one of servitude camouflaged by worship. Instead of demanding tribute, they needed to work for it, like some kind of glorified civil servants.
Wolves starved, and their destiny was clear. Maybe not in this generation, maybe not in the ten, fifty or hundred years, but eventually...
Their fate was to extinct.
Die out. Become extirpated from the face of Rokugan.

One could argue, that they had a choice. That it wasn't this binary.
"Kirikage-san, shall we enjoy a drink?"
That they could change. Stop being mountain and forest dogs, and come with their tails between their legs.
"Oh, you probably don't want to leave your charge alone, don't you? I've heard you Shibas are very loyal, even little clingy, haha! Ah, no offense. To be honest, I've already snuck in a cup or two..."
Sheepishly hung their heads low, thanking their new owners for their great mercy during their defanging and castrating? It was a choice, yes.
"Don't worry, Kiri-san. Can I call you that? It's cute. Anyway, Kiri-san, don't worry. Let the courtiers do their courtiering inside. I think Lord Moon should be up in a few minutes...let's drink with him! Fresh air, a beautiful garden, a beautiful company..."
A choice of continuing to be a wolf, and to die either from starvation or jaws of the dogs...or to stop being a wolf, become tamed, lose your pride and become less than a dog.
Either way?

Extinction.

*