Field Guide to Irresponsible Adventuring

Field Guide to Irresponsible Adventuring

Chapter 1 – Daisho no Ketsubutsu

Shintaro Mayakashi sat on the river bank with one hand on his bamboo pole and the other opening his money purse to stare disparagingly at the lonely coins within. He was lucky that the fishmonger had taken pity on him and only charged five times what this glorified panda snack was worth. He was becoming so hungry, in fact, that he wondered in eating the damn pole would be worth the agony of ingesting the thick shell of waterproofing lacquer that would likely have him squatting in tears for many days to come. As he pondered this predicament he suddenly felt a slight tug and before he fully came to his senses, a loud splash from the opposite bank shook him firmly back into reality’s cold and unforgiving hands.

A young girl with her golden hair held in a peculiar ornamentation, bright blue eyes shimmering with the reflection of the settling water’s surface held about her some unknowable air of alertness and sensibility that he couldn’t grasp; even her clothes, cut by a slit on either side in an Oriental fashion, the fine silk material seemed so natural, even if it was clinging to her form, soaking on her to the skin. Shintaro’s ears burned.

And that’s when he realized his bite was gone.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing, just jumping in the river an’ scarin’ all the fish, you twerp!”

The girl pressed a large seabass to her small chest as she looked out to him. “You’d be better off eating that rod than trying to catch anything with that cheap toy. At least you’d have something in your stomach when the lead kills your brain.” For once in his seventeen years of existence on this miserable ball of dirt, Shintaro was speechless. “So,” the girl remarked, “Are you just going to sit there gaping at me all day or will you give me a hand?” He realized just how far his chin fell about as much as he noticed the strain on his line.

“Huh?” was the most intelligent response he could manage as a tickling sensation began creeping up the nape of his neck. Then he noticed the shadow.

“… Are you staring at my breasts?”

With a jerk the rod’s line flexed once and again before snapping off at the tip.

“See what I mean by cheap? Wonder how much he scalped you for it.”

Shintaro leapt to his feet with gritted teeth and unsheathed his wakizashi in one smooth motion. The girl’s eyebrow bobbed at this. “So it’s like that, is it?” He charged forward when suddenly the snaking shadow curved to the side to block his potential path just as his boots began to soak through.

“Get out of the water! Can’t you see that—“

The surface of the water burst through with a rush as the kappa dove at the girl… wait. Kappa? I could’ve sworn that was a dragon… was his last thought as he saw the girl slam the fish into the side of the kappa’s head, flinging its limp body onto a nearby gather of rocks just before he fell into unconsciousness.

The smell of cooking fish roused Shintaro’s heavy eyes to opening. It was dark out, but the night was cloudless, letting the twilight illuminate his surroundings. Of course, the small fire nearby helped a fair bit as well. He must have still been asleep because he thought he’d seen that young girl’s face glowing among the flames licking over some particularly fragrant wood. He took a glance around. The moonlight was soft. The broad creek a short distance away babbled gently against round river stones. The dead river imp’s corpse splayed over a bundle of rocks was beginning to gather flies.

His eyes widened.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he mumbled as he jerked forward, only to collapse backwards with a pained moan. His head was pounding.

“Sorry,” the girl said as she tended the cook fire, turning the makeshift spit with one hand and waving a small fan to stoke the flames with the other. “Not a dream. But you look like you’ve been having nightmares.”

“Huh?” Shintaro coughed, leaning forward only to fall back again, gritting his teeth in pain.

“I’d suggest you don’t try to move unless you insist on making your wounds worse than they already are.”

That’s when he noticed a slight chill in the air. His chest was bare and wrapped in a heavy cloth, as was his right arm, and from the heft of his left arm and the fact that his hair wasn’t prominently in his eyes, he surmised his shoulder and head were bound as well. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Kappas.”

“You’re trying to tell me that I was almost killed. By a kappa.”

“Kappa-S. Plural, as in more than one. But yes. It didn’t help that you haven’t eaten anything decent for… what, three days?”

Shintaro looked away. His plated armor lay out neatly beside him—well, as neat as may be with several heavy gashes and blood soaked into it. Next to it lay his wakizashi, sheathed once again, appearing lonesome without its big brother.

“These kappa weren’t normal. Not an ordinary breed, those ones. Their skins emitted some sort of anti-coagulant.”

He looked slightly at a loss but didn’t ask what an anti-coagulant was. “How many were there.”

She stared at him for a moment, his hair a mess of brown, layered and not too short. His eyes were a similar shade of brown. “Three: one for me, two for you. They’re masters of illusions, all kappa, so that shadow that looked like a dragon dropped your guard long enough to take you down. You managed to cut one pretty badly before they knocked you out, thought I’m not certain that it was intentional. At least you were unconscious when the one bit into you, or I might have never stopped the bleeding.”

The cooking fish smelled delicious to Shintaro’s senses and his mouth watered as if it had not tasted sustenance in well over a week’s time. As would with such an ache, it dawned on him that the fish cooking was the same one she had caught with her bare hands. “How did you kill a kappa with that fish?”

Her brisk fanning fell to short waves. “Chi. I can use practically anything as an effective weapon by channeling my chi to the item’s natural tendencies. So, for example, a fish’s scales are hard and rounded, so it would make an effective blunt weapon. However, the fins can be very sharp, and when manipulated by my chi can make it an effective cutting edge, but I’d prefer not to spill a kappa’s blood all over the river, if at all possible. Bad karma.”

Shintaro returned his gaze upward. “Sounds difficult.”

“It’s not like it’s easy.” She looked back to the bright embers near her feet. “Like everything in life, it requires practice.”

A weirdo and a philosopher, he thought to himself. But I guess I owe her. Easy on the eyes, too.

“Ah,” the girl exclaimed, “the fish is done.” The sound of crackling flames and flowing water masked the deafening silence that reigned supreme between the two. Mayakashi felt awkward and wanted to fill this gap. To say something. Anything. Nothing came out. So he turned his focus to the shadowed forms on the opposite shore, laying limp for all accounts, lifeless. He wondered why he didn’t notice them before despite her mentioning two others. He had just figured that they had disappeared, run away when the first had fallen.

He turned his head back towards the fire and saw that next to it lay a gleaming polearm, the blade shining brilliantly. At first he couldn’t tell just why it shined that way, but then he realized that it was covered in blood. Just looking at it made his head pound all the worse. Suddenly he saw that the girl was no longer there, just as a black shadow fell into his field of vision with a head-rumbling thud.

He opened his mouth to shout but his utterance was cut short by a spoonful of rice and what tasted like grilled cucumber—he swallowed.

She raised an eyebrow. “So. How is it?”

Shintaro paused for a moment to savor the taste. “It’s good. It’s really good.”

She shoved another spoonful from the large bowl in her lap into his mouth with one hand while waving the fingers of her other hand above the fish that had moments ago been hovering over the fire and was now lying on a humble wooden platter. He wanted to ask her what she was doing but was too busy enjoying the food to bother. And the food was good. It was probably the best food he’d eaten in well over a month. In between the moments of ecstasy and satisfaction, a movement caught his eye. The girl slid two fingers into the fish flesh and pulled out an immaculate fish skeleton and tossed it over her shoulder, right into the fire.

“How did you-Oh yeah. Chi. Right.”

She stuffed a piece of fish into his mouth with a pair of chopsticks and obliging a goodly-sized piece for herself. They ate this way in relative silence until the spoon hit the bottom of the bowl and her chopsticks plunked against the bare, wooden platter. She was about to rise when suddenly he grasped her wrist, if only lightly, and asked her, “What is your name?”

She relaxed. “Tamago Nigiri.”

His head popped up. “You made some?”

Tamago’s relatively demure visage immediately turned into a glare. “That’s my name.”

He chuckled. “Really?”

She released a sigh. “Yes. What’s yours then?”

“Shintaro Mayakashi.”

Tamago grinned and with an actual smile replied, “Talk about unfortunate names.”

Shintaro returned a glare in kind, but let it go. “… Thanks. For everything.”

She paused once more before rising to walk to the river’s edge, pulling something from her pack and proceeding to scrub it against the culinary paraphernalia, tossing the vigorous bubbles downstream. The soap had a pleasant scent about it. Or maybe it was Tamago’s scent lingering from where she sat. Shintaro closed his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Hmm?”

Tamago glanced over her shoulder. “I said, ‘you’re welcome.’” She glanced back down at the warm, soapy water for a moment before looking back at him. “Try to get some sleep, okay?” He nodded and closed his eyes. He did feel awfully tired. Very, very… tired.

“Good night.”

When Shintaro came to, the first sound he heard was the gentle rhythm of Tamago’s breathing. It was comforting. The first fragrance he imbibed was that of Tamago’s own; something akin to sandalwood. This too was comforting. The first sensation he felt was that of Tamago’s back pressed against his broad, bare shoulders. The weight felt nice. It reminded him of home.

A second sound came to him, a vibration through their bodies. Her heartbeat was soft and began to rise slowly as he turned over and draped a firm arm about her middle. Holding her close like that, he was reminded of his mother. Shintaro closed his eyes and wished that he’d never have to leave this place ever again.

The following scent that came to him felt strongly of estrogen. He smiled silently as he spread his arms a distance, holding her body firmly to his. Unfortunately, his hands had their own agenda. The next sensation he felt was startlingly different from the one before: this one was reminiscent of a sandaled foot colliding like a derailed freight train into his side while its twin stomped lovingly onto his trachea while a disembodied voice shouted, “Pervert, pervert! What the hell do you think you’re doing, groping me?!”

Just like his little sister.

He closed his eyes and wished he’d never have to leave here again.

“Why the hell are you clacking your heels together, you weirdo? Stop that!”

When Mayakashi awoke, his body was slick with sweat. Or was it water?

I chucked his dumb ass into the river.

Oh, right. Shintaro Mayakashi awoke in the river. Looking onto the shore, he saw Tamago pulled up close, rocking back and forth shaking and mumbling to herself. He managed to catch the phrases “touched me” and “gonna kill him” but all he could get out of it was What an odd method of prayer. Shintaro was amazed to find that he could move about and walk around with little to no trouble. However, if he prod at his wounds too hard, they could easily drop him to his knees. Despite this fact and despite Tamago’s disturbing chanting, Mayakashi proceeded to don his armor and the lonely half of his Daisho as he would on any other non-kappa-related morning.