The Day of Thunder

Norikage sat smoking his pipe through dreary eyes near the market that morning. It had been a shit night. How did Han-Hei sleep so soundly? Well, she hadn't got drunk...or whatever he had been, last night. He cursed this stupid village and it's stupid festival.

Adding a scowl to his discontent, he grumbled about old folks snoring and the curse of yume-do upon the empire. He supposed he'd have to do something about it, after all.

He chuckled to himself. Right, that easy, huh?

Sora had given up at long last, and was trying to be philosophical about it. At least this sleepless night had been quiet and relatively physically comfortable, right?

Right?

No.

No, he was in a sour humor, and he still wanted to find whoever had thought drugging everyone was a good idea so he could twist off their arms and legs and use the limbs to bludgeon their heads in.

Yeah, that sounded nice.

In between angry puffs, he saw a man coming down the street. Normally, he wouldn't do much more than glance and process the information. Though the old bastard walked like he knew what he was doing, and that attracted his attention.

Oh. OH.

He wore a particularly nasty look still, but it likely wasn't intentional.

"Good morning, samurai-sama", he said, not calling out the man's name and not doing much more than what was proper for the moment of greeting. He did, tip his head just enough to not be offensive, however.

"Was a great night, huh? Glad I got to experience all of it...uninterrupted."

Sora looked over, sussed up the Scorpion, gave a little prayer that maybe this one wouldn't be a raving lunatic, and adopted a wry grimace.

"Some idiot once said that to stay up all night adds a day to one's life. He might have mentioned that it wouldn't be a good one. Jiyo Sora."

A thought struck him.

"You come into town with a masked ronin?"

He smirked at the old man's comment, his scowl softening somewhat. Tapping spare ash from his pipe he considered the question.

"Mask, yes", he said in confirmation. "Ronin, though?" a shrug and he pulled on his pipe again. Han-Hei had always been a bit too extra in manner and training. He didn't know what faction she belonged to, but had always been clear to him she wasn't a ronin.

"Hm. She mentioned something about some jerk Scorpion. That must be you."

"That sounds like her, when she's talking about me", he replied with a chuckle. "Not even my name? Well, then, Jiyo Sora-dono, I am Bayushi Norikage. I understand that there's a level of jerk attained that's reserved only for people of our ilk."

he puffed again.

"But honestly, whatever. You know her, then? Makes sense to me. Lord Bayushi wouldn't send me to follow around a nobody."

"And of course he wouldn't tell you why, the sneaky git. Well."

He seemed amused.

No, he was definitely amused.

"Who am I to gainsay the will of a Kami?"

Jiyo Sora, that's who.

"It is not my place to question...blah blah blah", he said, and it was honest, if not less refined due to lack of sleep. "Regardless, you're here, so I heard. A lot of other folks who went into the pit of hell from my understanding as well." He puffed smoke. "So I have a question, what in the name of lord Moon's beard is actually going on in this town?"

"Go to Jigoku once, have everyone assume you know what you're doing for the rest of your life... I dunno, man."

He shrugged.

"It's all wrong. Or... enough of it's wrong that the things that are right seem weird."

"Seems to be the collective thought", he offered. Tapping out his pipe entirely after a rip, he slid it away in his sleeve. "Though, you can't blame me for asking. I thought there'd have been a better briefing for you types."

"My briefing consisted of an obnoxiously cryptic note from the man who sent me into Hell and bits and pieces and scraps of information gathered over twenty years of research. None of it covered weird little villages."

"Shame I need rest, or I'd possibly be getting us a little bit of headway on that today", the Scorpion said, giving him a side eye. "You look like twenty ri of bad road yourself or I'd see if you were up for it."

"I've had a hand in the raising of ten children, Bayushi-san. Sleepless nights are nothing new."

He shrugged. "You say that, but you look worse than I do, and I've had it." He folded his arms and gestured that the man might have a seat next to him. "Pretty sure I know where the information we might be looking for is. You know any Isawa or similarly skilled people here you can trust?"

He took the offered seat.

"Unfortunately, no Isawa. Togashi Satsuki is a capable shugenja, but given how those spirit-talkers specialize, may or may not be what you're after."

"Well, what if you go about this officially?" he said. "You outrank just about everyone here, and certainly every villager in this town like any samurai does." He gave the old man a roguish look. "Have you asked or ordered that the particulars of this ritual they're doing be shared with a shugenja of repute? You or lady Makime, or the Hantei heir who is here, any of you and more could do that and put things in the open, put a lot of suspicious minds at ease."

"Ordering people about isn't really my style, Bayushi-san, but I could make some inquiries."

Since Sora would presumably be speaking with Chouri later in the day, there was certainly a possibility there.

"Been meaning to shake folks down about drugging the festival last night anyhow."

"Overheard some villagers talking about who the culprit might be, I'd like to twist their arms and legs off, personally", Norikage grumbled.

"Make sure you beat their head in with the limbs if you do..."