Mōri Tournament: Independent Quarterfinals

Sporting Event / Competition

Starting with the dawn, the Mōri Martial Arts Tournament once again saw a fine turnout from all across the land. Either all these generals had some manner of quick transportation, comparable to the Hashinara Clan's teleportation network, or they were staying in Shimonoseki for the duration. Perhaps a combination of both.   The morning proceeded with a series of intense fights and only a single death. Once all was done, Fubuki, Honda Tadakatsu, Maxim, and Momo would be advancing to the independent semifinals. Accounts of their matches can be found elsewhere. During and after the bouts, however, a few other events of interest were happening throughout the crowd.

An astute observer might have recalled a certain loud voice in the stands shouting her support for Randi Carter during that first match. The owner of that voice made her way across the stands not long after the fight. Her purpose was singular: to make up the loss of money from Fubuki's victory. This little kyūso, Hisashi Juju, knew a good bit about luck. She was a student of the Beast of Good Fortune, Kotobuki, after all. With those credentials, she'd been able to notice what few others could: Fubuki had altered luck in her* favor more than once in the match.   In fairness, Fubuki couldn't really deny that. She* had definitely called upon the blessings of Amatsu-Mikaboshi to swing the odds in her* favor. That said, it wasn't exactly against the rules. Juju was not to be placated. She demanded recompense, a thousand koku! Not deflections, nor cryptic phrases, nor even association with a Binbōgami could sway the kyūso from her righteous path. Eventually, Fubuki gave in. The other's demands weren't entirely without merit. What's more, Juju knew how to sweeten the deal. By accepting a bit more capital than she'd lost from the bet, the mouse promised to multiply that investment for Fubuki. All she'd need was a place to work. When told that she'd have access to a flying casino as a base, the deal was sealed. Hisashi Juju took her money and effectively joined the Matsumoto Family.   At about the same time, a similar deal was taking place in the Hashinara box. Young mistress Chōko Dufour had mistaken Hashinara Kiyowara for a noble child. It was an understandable assumption. Who was to know that this small, elegant creature was in truth the Sheele of Daimyō Hashinara Yoshitakatomo. The level of closeness between sheele and master varied, but between these two, they were practically the same person. Indeed, with Kiyowara able to share senses with her master, Yoshitakatomo was there at the tournament in mind, if not body.   With the Princess-Daimyō's characteristic patience, Kiyowara did not disabuse Chōko of her notion. Instead, the sheele played along as the daughter of a rich noble. It became obvious that the young Dufour was interested in levying some of Kiyowara's "father's" funds in order to secure some land for development. Taking advantage of the other's perceived interest in robotics, Chōko promised to teach something of the craft in exchange for such an investment. Yoshitakatomo, however, was not entirely convinced. Even Chōko's present prototype was not quite what the Daimyō was looking for. Kiyowara, apparently, wanted something which could rival a god. Tellingly, Chōko did not immediately balk at the notion, but it would take a lot more research and upgrades before any of her robots were up to that task.   Eventually, the two decided on a showcase at some point in the future. Chōko would bring her best to bear, and Kiyowara's "father" would determine then whether to bestow some land and capital to the heiress.   Finally, after he'd won a rather anticlimactic match, Maxim returned to his group in the stands. He didn't see Nagasone Kotetsu anywhere, but could trust that Shishikura Makiko had followed through on her duty to retrieve the smith before Maxim's match. No doubt they would meet after the last bout. He was grateful, too, that Aotsuki Tsukamoto had agreed to sit in on their coming meeting, even if it meant having the considerable presence of Saitō Dōsan along as well.   As Maxim sat down, he sensed a slight animosity from Haures. That wasn't anything new. The demoness seemed to have it in her head that he'd been slacking lately. When Haures growled, a sound far too dark and dangerous for her petite form, Maxim finally realized that he wasn't the source of her ire. Looking to his side, he glimpsed a form in the center of the bunched Hōjō Clan generals nearby. With curling goat horns upon her head, oddly-pupiled eyes, and a spiny tail running from her back, this could only be another Demon.   As it happened, Maxim could only see into this bunch because of the gap left by Hōjō Ujiteru as she descended for her bout. Perhaps sensing his eyes upon them, another of the Hōjō daughters turned and beckoned Maxim over. They'd be greatly appreciative, Hayakawa explained, if someone of his could fill the gap until the other daughter returned. That, Haures put forth, was out of the question. Gluttony demons were dangerous in that they dragged others down with them. As he'd already been lagging in his duties, Maxim could not do much worse than to associate with that one there.   Whether it be wisdom or folly, Maxim chose to ignore the advice of his demonic keeper. He scooted over, but insisted on a front-row seat. Hōjō Ujimasa did not mind obliging him this. She slid back, allowing Maxim's wide shoulders in front of him. Nothing happened for a moment. No devilish whispers crept into his ear, nor corrupting brands etched themselves into his back. He thought he might have gotten away without consequence until something soft and fuzzy pushed its way into his left hand. Maxim's mind raced. There weren't many things that this could be, and he didn't like any of them. With a growing pit in his stomach, he raised his hand and beheld what had been slipped within.   It was a doll. Sewn of soft fabric and stuffed with cotton, it boasted a cute face under a mop of sandy-blonde hair. Despite the big eyes and adorable little smile, the subject of its design was unmistakable. This was a doll of Maxim himself. The Knight Commander blinked. Had the goat-like demon behind him sewn this just now? Did she have it ready beforehand? Maxim wasn't sure which option was worse. He turned, ready to demand what this was all about, when he found himself presented with another doll.   This one was also blonde, but more on the golden-haired side. Even with such simple features, it still gave off a boyish elegance that was unmistakable. The little tin crested shield buckled to one of its arms sealed the matter. This was an Aotsuki doll. Now, Maxim found himself holding a plush doll in each hand. It was not an enviable situation. He turned to Hōjō Ujimasa, the nearest of the generals, and demanded to know what was going on. Infuriatingly, she seemed to know just as little about the things as he did. Apparently, she'd never seen any dolls like that before, and she didn't seem to be lying.   Meanwhile, across the stands, Ryūzaki Sanosuke's trouble radar was going off. He'd seen Maxim get into a group with the Hōjō girls. What's more, the foreign warrior seemed to be getting more and more agitated. Motoyama Tsugutoshi confirmed with her keen eyes that they were trying to hide something, but even she couldn't tell what. Looking about for a suitable pawn, Sanosuke's eyes rested (not unpleasantly) on Priska. He sent a mental message over, but received only a babble of French in return. Right. That had sounded like gossip, and Priska made no moves to follow Sanosuke's suggestions. Instead, he looked for a more reliable candidate.   Othéa, of course, was all too willing to aid her most recent rising star. She picked her way over, through the stands, and arrived in good time before the gaggle of Hōjō daughters. A bit of poise, a bit of flattery, and it was all lost on Maxim. Indeed, the foreign barbarian had just about had it. He drove Othéa away with a vicious intensity in his words. Even so, the other didn't seem terribly offended. Perhaps the effect had been ruined by the fact that Maxim currently had a cute plush doll gripped in each of his powerful fists.   Going around, Othéa found a part of the circle with less-formidable guards and shouldered her way in. When she came back out, a look of positive befuddlement had overtaken her features. Adjusting her spectacles to make certain that she wasn't mistaking the item in her hand, Othéa moved more slowly on her way back. When she reached the Silver Meteor Storm's crowded section of the box, after pushing through the milling beauties, she presented Sanosuke with the fruits of her investigation. It was a doll. With a shock of silver hair and a cocky expression, Sanosuke couldn't help but note that the thing was wearing the exact same clothing he was at this very moment. He blinked.   Maxim had noticed Sanosuke noticing, and now he noticed the hesitation in the Silver General's manner even across the arena. A mental message confirmed that Sanosuke had gotten a doll as well, and Maxim offered that he could have just asked. For now, they had no idea what to do with these things. Sanosuke felt confident that his wasn't magical. The fabric was mundane, the stuffing a bit low-quality, and not a hint of a spell weaved in between. To be safe, he asked that Takenaka Hanbei take a look at it for anything unusual.