Author's note(s): This story is set in the time of what I believe was called the Sino Wars; It was when Japanese people killed many Chinese on the eastern border in hopes of expanding their land and they had then placed their heads on poles. When I write this story I don't want anyone to say I support what has happened. I have both Chinese and Japanese friends and they both regret that this part in history had happened. I do too. For all those who lived and lost family in this war, I offer my condolences, and for those that died, I offer my respect. I do not want this story to inflict prejudice against either the Japanese or Chinese.
And another thing I have to add before you read this. The story revolves around a Shrine called The Yasukuni Jinja. It used to be called the Tokyo Shokonasha but has since been renamed the Yasukuni Jinja. This is the place where the kamikaze started, and all those souls who died in the deliverance of the divine wind reside here. It is the home of now 2.5 million souls and their names are inside the shrine. I do not wish to promote the idea of kamikaze as a good thing but in the Japanese culture it was seen honorable to die for a purpose that served your country, much like the common belief of the U.S. marine core... Thank you for taking the time to read this.

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"I will be waiting for you at Yasukuni Jinja" the voice said, monotonously. The deed which they were about to do was not something they would relish, nothing to be happy about - despite the honor and happiness it would serve their country. That same moment, around Japan, many loved ones told their families and friends the same thing, again, no tears were spilt despite the onerous future which these men held. There was war on the western coast. The land was being expanded any many of the warriors were called for duty. All along the border lay the heads of the Chinese who stood in their way. They prayed at the Tokyo Shokonasha before leaving to battle. In the honor of the souls who have now resided here, it has been renamed as the Yasukuni Jinja Yushukan.

Two figures stood in the shadows of the Tokyo backwater streets. One was dressed in a plain black and white kimono, resting rather haphazardly from his shoulders. The other wore his kimono methodically, with a navy blue hakama complimenting his figure. His, however, was straight cut and soft and gentle on his shoulders. Even his hair was held perfectly in his topknot. He looked and radiated samurai, but such titles were nothing to him. "Katsushiro, where will you come from?" the first voice gritted out with a lack of interest.

The next voice was clear, Katsushiro, as he was known, was a man of strong beliefs and saw himself as a tool of his country. As always, his reply was to the point. "I have been ordered from the south, Rohikki-san."

There was a sudden jovial look in Rohikki's eyes at that moment. His body straightened from the wall and carelessly threw his hair to one side. "Is that the name? What they call me now? It's a laugh. Ahh, then. I will approach straight from the east!"

A sudden noise from the street causes Katsushiro to look up suddenly; Rohikki's hands swiftly reached for the grip of his blade, and clutches it. The source of the noise only bumbled on, it was just a passerby, but a warning that the midday crowd would soon begin to ensemble. Katsushiro didn't relax, his eyes snap back to his comrade. "We will have to bear with it, anyways, have you the device?"

Rohikki shifted uncomfortably "No." His face lost whatever interest that had sparked just a moment ago, it was almost replaced with disgust, or was it anger? "On the way here I was to be searched. So I hid it. These cops are getting on my nerves, crawling around as if they know what's going to happen." His face flowed into twisted contempt "What fools!" He barked.

"Rohikki! Calm yourself, save that anger for tomorrow." There was only a grimace as a reply. It was obvious by the way Katsushiro stood up that he was not at all happy at the way things were going. Rohikki held no priority on the mission at all, his hatred for the enemy was taking over his better judgment, and it was unwise for him to have been taken on this mission. Katsushiro sighed; it was all he could do to stop himself from expressing his anger. "You will have to bring it later on, find out how to get past them by then." And with that he turned his back and left the small alley into the market street. Already, the crowds were gathering, the sun was slowly disappearing into the western sky.

Back in the alley, dark eyes, matching its inner self, gazed silently at the wall. Within minutes, a soft breeze had picked up and tugged at the loose ends of clothing. Somewhere in between the noise of the crowds and the rustling of the leaves, the man known as Rohikki disappeared into the shadows of the muddy Tokyo market crowds.

Katsushiro walked briskly through the crowd, brushing past the locals. Here, he was the alien. Everyone looked like a possible antagonist, it was impossible to trust anyone but he had to make them trust him. For him, it was harder than it seemed, while he looked, spoke and acted fully Japanese, he knew better. There was nothing Japanese about him. Katsushiro was nothing but an undercover name given to him, generated by the scholars who studied the art of infiltration. He was of Chinese decent, and was on a mission from his motherland. He and Rohikki were just one of many Chinese who, because of their appearance and skills, were chosen to go as covert agents to attack the center of the island invaders. His target was the one and only Yasukuni Jinja, the center of worship for all the warriors who tore at the lives of many Chinese innocents. Katsushiro had no hope to go to such a place like this, if he were to die, he would go to a horrible afterlife, it would be his punishment for dragging with him, all who stood in his way.

After a half an hour he reached a small side road that took him away from the hustle and bustle of the street markets. Around him, there were children playing with sticks and women hanging their clothes out for laundry, this was the rural area of town. Caught up in thought, Katsushiro took small steps to avoid passing the inn that he was staying at. The innkeeper was a poor little Japanese man who had let him stay there as for much less than any other place in the area. Plus he was approaching the age of senility, where no one believes him anymore. It was really his daughter who was running the place. He never saw her around, it was rumored that she was working somewhere else just to help pay the land taxes. Which was a good thing; a man like Katsushiro wanted and needed no interruptions while on the mission. He closed the door behind him and changed out of his Japanese robes. The shower water was outside and he did not feel like going outside into the mud again, so he sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the floor, facing the window. After closing his eyes for a few seconds, he lit incense sticks that had been placed in a holder directly in front of him. Next to the where he slept, there was a small alter that he had built form small replicas of his ancestral guardians. After breathing in the first wafts of the incense he turned to face the shrine to his right. In the same motion, he also bowed down so that his forehead touched the ground. His arms were stretched to their furthest so that his fingertips could just touch the painted base of his shrine. On either side were figurines carved of wood of the family spirits, and atop them all, it was a stone statue of Buddha.

Then there were footsteps approaching the door. Katsushiro grabbed a white cloth and threw it over the shrine. He took the incense sticks and threw them into a puddle out in the street. As he looked back, the door was just opening, it was the landlord. "Ahh, you're here, there is someone to see you, come, come, and allow me to bring the tea." he walked past Katsushiro and closed the window. "Now come, he looks important... Oho! What's with that surprised look on your face, you're not someone who's running form duty are you? No, you don't have that look, come, come." Katsushiro was not sure if he should indeed meet this man as the innkeeper waved his hands about in his face. It appeared that he was just rambling on to pass time, but to be cautious, he quickly grabbed a bamboo cane on his way down. The innkeeper was just walking into the kitchen as he gave a curious one eyed glance at Katsushiro. Maybe it won't be necessary, he thought, but I'll keep it anyway. He proceeded to the front room pretending to use the cane as a walking aid.

The guest did indeed look important, dressed as a noble, a soft machine; menacing and cold under all that makeup. But at the same time, a tranquil aura radiated from the man. Eyes closed and in a dark kimono with a design of a fall sakura tree, the guest sat before the table with one hand around a cup of steaming tea. "Katsushiro is it?" the man got up slowly as Katsushiro simply stared at him. "It doesn't suit you at all, Ming Yue, but then again, neither does that." He barked a short laugh then. Katsushiro, or Ming Yue, only tensed. "Eheheh. I am your correspondent now. Your orders will come from me." He looked around as if expecting company.

Ming Yue held his bamboo shoot deftly in one hand and kneeled to the ground on one knee. "Sir, I was under the influence that after tomorrow's mission that we were going home."

The man continued to sip his tea and if at all he even heard what Ming Yu said, he ignored it. "The name you will know me by is." At that moment, the sound of clunking mugs had chosen to be heard from the back kitchen.

As Ming Yue rose from his stance, the old man walked out wearing a hippari, a chef's outfit, complete with a white cloth tied around his head with a red circle in the front. "Can I offer you some more tea, or perhaps fresh salmon? It's getting quite chilly outside, maybe some warm wine?" The old man wasn't as senile as he looked, thought Ming Yue. He knew the hows and where's of business and he knew that he had an enticing offer. Right then, he wouldn't have minded some warm sake himself.

His thought was interrupted as the noble man stood up. "I will be leaving now. Another cup of tea is all I will need. Remember Katsushiro, you will need to be ready."

"Wait, you haven't told me your name!" Ming Yue looked up in surprise.

The man simply looked at him with no expression. "Perhaps it will be best that way." With that, he walked out of the inn, leaving the Chinese warrior with the Japanese chef, who had decided that 'Katsushiro' would be interested in something to eat.

"You know, that salmon is top grade, in all of Tokyo, I can afford it because I have a daughter you know, she works hard for me, I'm so lucky."

As the man disappeared, Ming Yue noticed an attendant, rising from the outside room of the front entrance as they both headed off. "So, he really was a noble."

"Who, him? I told you he looked important! He had the nerve to say no to my food, a man like you would surely try some, am I right? Of course I am!" As he rambled on again, Ming Yue decided it was time for some fresh air, and some exercise.

Five minutes later, he had covered the same distance he walked in thirty. He looked around him, the night was upon Tokyo and most citizens were already preparing for bed. Some had lit little vigils inside to pray for the warriors in the family who would give their lives for the country. He prayed to himself that no one would light a vigil for him. It would be best if he died here, no good would come in prolonging his fate. He decided to stake out the grounds around the shrine; he wished he had done this before, at least then he could have offered Rohikki some advice. Like a fox, he ran low to the ground and quickly through the shadows. The wind began to become chilly and he began to regret the hastiness in his action. If he had worn the right clothing than maybe he would have been able to scout better. He noticed that the winds were also picking up, in less than half a day, he thought, these trees will be barren, so a good camouflage would have to match either the barren trees or the ground, which would be besieged with sakura petals.

He could make out the roofs of the shrine now, as he rounded a corner. With his target in sight, it gave him a burst of energy. Within moments he was in arms reach of the temple doors. The moon was out in full bloom and the clouds which wafted under gave him the cover and light he needed to sneak in undetected. But before going in, he wandered around the walls looking for weak spots. He noticed that with the right leverage, any one could jump or climb over the walls. This was something he had to consider if he was forced to escape. He decided the best way was to leave the way he came, it seemed to be the hardest to chase through. The inside was pretty basic. Rohikki already had the building designs for the structure so it was not necessary for him to waste his time out in the cold. Just as he was about to leave, something caught his eye. Movement, there was someone else about. The sudden flexing of his right arm told him that he had still held on to his bamboo cane, it gave him some measure of protection, or perhaps that leverage he was thinking about earlier. He scanned the temple grounds looking for whatever it was that had disturbed his peripheral vision but nothing came to him. As he was about to turn and leave a soft noise from the roof of the temple sent him darting straight into the cover of the bushes. He peered from the small parts in the leaves at what may have caused the disturbance and his eyes fell upon the dark outline of what, he could not tell. It was sitting on the roof of the temple, how he had gotten up there was a mystery to him; the shrine roofs were made of individual pieces of tile and it was higher than the walls. It must be a samurai he thought. He had heard of their powers in their service to shoguns, and seen their abilities in battle. The figure did not seem to have noticed him yet, so as quietly as possible, he slid out of the temple and retraced his steps back to his residence. This day was over and he needed rest before tomorrow's operations.

A small straw barrel and umbrella arrived for him that night. It had straps for him to carry it on his back. Inside were 6 bamboo canes, slightly bigger than the ones found locally. Each of them had the back end covered in a tarp tied by a small string. They had arrived while he was out. As he walked in to his room, his eyes fell upon the bundle. He knew it would be there before he had entered the place. Although it was in his best interest to examine the package now, he was too tired to take a closer investigation. The man named Katsushiro lay down thinking of his family, thinking of his country. He thought about the Buddhism of life and death. He knew that tomorrow he would find his karma. Whether he died or not, he would go into battle without fear in respect those who died, and in love, for those who had not.