The doors on either side of the crowded boardroom burst open, and a dozen samurai from the rival daimyo Zaibatsu Corporate Systems flooded in. The carefully choreographed order of the meeting dissolved into chaos as the Keiretsu Group samurai grabbed the handles of their swords and the businessmen took cover. Papers fluttered like leaves.

There were only four Keiretsu samurai; they were outnumbered 3 to 1. That they would die this day was not in doubt. All the men had left to them was the opportunity to die on their feet, fighting for their daimyo.

The initial chaos of the intrusion died down as the businessmen cowered and the samurai on both sides sized each other up. The papers fluttered to the ground and at that precise moment the battle began.

Tachibana Hiroto, highest ranking of the Keiretsu samurai, broke the tension and threw himself, screaming, at the Zaibatsu samurai. The others followed behind him. Utilizing their mastery of Iaijutsu they drew their swords as they charged, imbuing them with internal power.

Tachibana slashed his sword violently at the nearest Zaibatsu samurai, who attempted to dodge but ended up losing his arm.

Tachibana sensed another opponent behind him, and spun to face them. He was just fast enough to avoid a wound on his back. The katana slid into his belly, mortally wounding him.

The battle was over after only a few exchanges. The Zaibatsu samurai finished the last of the Keiretsu, before massacring the businessmen. They left the boardroom looking like a slaughterhouse.

Tachibana was getting cold, but he waited as long as he dared. His hands shaking with the effort, he retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number, his thumb staining the screen with blood.

"Moshi moshi," the voice was his wife's.

"<Prepare the children,>" was all he had the strength to say.

The phone slid from his numb fingers.

* * *

Tachibana Megumi was shaking with emotion as she attempted to prepare her children to die honorably. Her husband was dead, and they would be with him soon enough, but first they needed to die as befit a bushi family.

Her eldest daughters Akiko and Haruko, of course, wielded Naginatas. They were fully-fledged Onna-bugeish. They would make the enemy pay with blood for the opportunity to extinguish the Tachibana.

Natsuko and Fuyuko were too young to do much more than ensure they were holding weapons when they died. They had both just been handed ceremonial tantos. Megumi wasn't certain they were even sharp, but it didn't really matter.

The young girls were crying and Megumi had to resist the urge to comfort them. It would all be over soon.

Megumi wished she had kept up her swordplay. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered. Instead she had a naginata of her own, hoping the length would make up for the advantage in strength her opponents would have.

Just as expected the front door slid open without a knock. In stepped three low-level Zaibatsu samurai: the prematurely balding Adachi Kaito, Hojo Tsubasa with his pimples, and the scrawny weasel Takeda Daisuke. They all had the cocky demeanor of cowards sent to kill women and children.

Fuyuko was still crying, but Natsuko had found herself. Megumi, Akiko and Haruko stepped forward, forming a wall in front of the young girls with their weapons.

"<Why all the weapons?>" asked Adachi. "<Is this any way to treat guests?>"

"<You are no guests of ours,>" replied Megumi. "<Get out!>"

Hojo drew his katana, and the other two samurai copied him.

"<This can be easy or this can be difficult,>" said Hojo. "<If you don't put down those weapons, I can't be held responsible for what happens next.>"

Megumi rushed him with her naginata, but Hojo cut off the head of the weapon with a single slash from his sword. He immediately followed it up with a second to her neck.

Adachi and Takeda easily countered the reckless, screaming attacks the two elder Tachibana sisters made in response, and cut them both down.

* * *

Hojo Tsubasa and Takeda Daisuke met in the elevator going up. They made all the necessary acknowledgements that politeness demanded and spent the rest of the ride in awkward silence.

They got off at the same floor, and then to their mutual horror it seemed the same direction. The silence was unbroken.

The two came to the same destination, a waiting room outside of an office. They were both precisely one hour early for precisely the same meeting. Tsubasa and Daisuke took seats on opposite ends of the row of five.

Exactly one hour later a woman informed them that the Daimyo would see them both. They were led into a small but beautifully appointed office, where their master sat behind a criminally expensive desk.

"<Hojo-san. Takeda-san. Good morning,>" greeted the Daimyo, nodding to each of them.

"<Good morning, Chiba-sama,>" said Hojo and Takeda in virtual unison, while bowing.

"<I hope I am not the one to bring you the news of Adachi Kaito-san's death?>" asked the Daimyo.

"<I had heard this sad news,"> said Takeda.

"<As had I,>" added Hojo.

"<The situation regarding his death is more complex than you might know. We had the police suppress this information but they found the words 'Tachibana Muramasa' written on the wall near the body. In Adachi-san's blood. And all the evidence points towards Adachi-san as the calligraphist.>"

"<The Tachibana had a Masamune,>" said Hojo. "<Not a Muramasa.>"

"<Indeed,>" agreed the Daimyo. "<It's possible there exists a second Tachibana ancestral katana. However, I believe it is equally possible this has something to do with what the three of you did the night of the hostile takeover of Keiretsu Group.>"

"<No one is questioning your honor. You were acting under the order of your master. You weren't technically told to kill the women and children but they fought back. You can't be held responsible for their choices. I can't promise that this perspective would be shared by the allies of Tachibana. It appears to me to be a likely motive. Even if I am wrong the two of you would make worthy investigators of this crime and so that is what I am asking you to do. Find the criminal who murdered Adachi-san and find out what the meaning of 'Tachibana Muramasa' is.>"

"<Yes, Chiba-sama!>" said the two samurai.

"<Anyone strong enough to kill Adachi-san must be a high level kenjutsu practicioner.>" said Hojo. "<That means he will have connections to the rivers and lakes. If we can find those connections we can find this mysterious ronin who killed Adachi-san.>"

* * *

Haruto was visibly flushed from drink as he stumbled out of the bar. It was dark and he was drunk but Haruto took pride in two things: his ability to find his way home when blackout drunk, and the art of swordplay. In that order.

"<You are Matsuda Haruto,>" said an unfamiliar voice.

Two men in suits with daisho on their hips, obviously samurai, stepped in front of him.

"<No I'm not. You are!>" Haruto protested.

"<No, you are him,>" said Hojo. "<You are the renowned swordsman Matsuda Haruto, who disappeared from the kenjutsu world twelve years ago.>"

"<If I was, then you should take my disappearance as sign that I want to be left alone. Whoever you're talking about is finished with all that.>"

"<The rivers and lakes are never finished with you,>" sneered Takeda. "<Once you dip your toes->"

"<Oh don't be so dramatic, you sound like a movie. I am an old man, a drunk old man. I don't care about sword fighting anymore and sword fighting doesn't care about me. Whatever you have come looking for with such enthusiasm that you lost all your manners I don't have for you.>"

"<Tachibana Muramasa,>" said Hojo. "<What do you know about this?>"

"<The Tachibana had a Masamune. Heavenly Punishment.>"

"<We already know this. What is the significance of 'Tachibana Muramasa?' Is there a second Tachibana ancestral katana?>"

"<I'm going to tell you a story->"

"<We do not wish to hear a story,>" spat Takeda.

"<That is too bad for you because I am an old man so you are going to listen to my story. Once there was a swordsmith named Masamune, the greatest swordsmith who ever lived.>"

"<I have heard this story before,>" said Hojo.

"<Well pay attention this time, then, you may learn something. One day his student Muramasa, who had become arrogant of his own skill, challenged his master to see which of them could make the greatest sword. Both swordsmiths work day and night, tirelessly pouring all their passion and skill into two of the most legendary swords of all time.>

"<Finally both swords were complete and the time came to test them. To do this they decided to drive the tip of each sword into the bed of a creek, blade facing the current, and see what each sword would cut.>

"<First came Muramasa's sword 10,000 Cold Nights. The impossibly sharp blade cut everything that passed by: leaves, fish, it even divided the air and the water itself. Muramasa withdrew his sword from the water, immensely pleased with himself.>

"<Next it was time to test Masamune's sword Tender Hands. It, too, was placed into the current. However Tender Hands cut only the leaves, the fish swam around it unharmed and the water flowed past it harmoniously.>

"<Muramasa became convinced he had won, and began to taunt his master with the superiority of his blade, which could cut anything. While this was happening a travelling monk, who had watched the entire contest, approached the two swordsmiths and bowed.>

"<The monk explained what he had seen: the first blade was a legendary weapon of great power, but it is also an evil blade that does not discriminate what it cuts. The second sword was truly the finer sword, as it did not needlessly cut that which is undeserving of death.>"

"<Masamune and Muramasa lived 200 years apart. They were not master and student,>" said Hojo.

"<You don't listen. I told you I was telling you a story not reciting a history. How can you ever learn anything if you can't even listen to a story?>"

"<I have had enough of your games,>" said Hojo. "<Tell me what you know or I can't be held responsible for what happens to you.>"

"<Very well,>" said Haruto "<It is exactly as you fear: the ghost of Tachibana has come back from the grave to take revenge on all the cowards who wronged him. Your best hope now is to get out ahead of it. You know, the belly cutting.>"

Takeda flushed with anger. Utilizing his well practiced Iaijutsu he drew his katana and slashed at Haruto's neck in a single fluid motion. Haruto tried to dodge but he was too drunk to do so effectively. His head was cleanly severed from his body, flying off in a bloody arc before landing in a nearby gutter.

It was the prerogative of any samurai to kill a peasant who insulted him. The police would make up something appropriate.

* * *

Takeda was found in his own home the next morning, having performed seppuku with three cuts.

The police waited patiently at the edge of the crime scene as Hojo looked through it wearing blue latex gloves. Once again the walls were covered in blood calligraphy: Tachibana Muramasa.

Hojo looked at the bloody writing on the wall. There was something off about it. He was familiar with Takeda's writing style and this wasn't it. This was an imitation, maybe even a good one, but this wasn't it. As he suspected all along someone had been present either compelling the suicides, or staging a murder to look like a suicide.

Luckily Takeda family had been away that night, so Takeda was all alone.

Hojo had a sudden realization that made his blood run cold. He hadn't been home since the night before, and *his* family *was* at home.

Hojo ran from the crime scene, the police still yelling after him if it was okay for them to take over.

* * *

Hojo burst in the front door of his house and ran straight for the living room.

There he found his wife laying on the ground at an odd angle. She didn't appear to be breathing. The children! They were nowhere to be found.

"<Do you remember the Tachibana clan?>" asked an unfamiliar voice. Feminine, but utterly devoid of warmth or music.

Hojo looked around desperately for the source of the voice. He couldn't see anyone, couldn't sense any fighting spirit either.

"<Who are you?>" he asked the ghost.

"<When you killed the women and children they died on their feet. That's more than can be said for your wife.>"

Hojo put his hand on the grip of his sword, ready to draw it as soon as he caught sight of this mysterious woman.

"<You are going to have to make a choice. Your children are safe for the moment, but if you were to become uncooperative I can't be held responsible for what will happen to them.>"

Hojo shouted with impotent rage, his hand shaking as it still gripped his sheathed sword.

"<All I'm asking is for three little cuts, and you can save what's left of your family.>"

* * *

Hojo Tsubasa's body bled out from the the self inflicted wounds. Blood soaked the carpet all around him. On the wall behind him the words "Tachibana Muramasa" were written in blood.

Fuyuko struck a pressure point on Hojo Ichika's chest, unsealing the meridian she had blocked. Ichika suddenly came to life, gasping for breath.

Ichika looked up at this woman wearing an ancient daisho, soaked in the blood of her husband, and her eyes welled with hatred like tears.

Fuyuko ignored her and left.