Kusari State Police revival

[antima]

The sun rose slowly over the skies on Kyushu, its rays casting a golden glow over the fields in the countryside. Along with the rays, a liner landed on the planet, a rare sight these days, as demands for such things as space travel where not high among the country folk that were commonplace on Kyushu. One of the passengers had a worn look on his face, the look of a man who had spent a long time running, but the look of relief on his face was great, like one who had just returned home after a long voyage.

The reporters on the screens suspended above the dock hailed the day, giving it praise. The man sat there, eyes transfixed on the screens, with the longings of just maybe, having a chance once again at repentance. Looking down again, he looks around, and spotted a local man whom he soon approached. He asked him for directions, so he might bring himself great honor in service to his country. The man complies, and gives him quick directions, wishing him wellness and the best of luck. He carries on, moving to get on with what he came for.

Two other men, dressed in the loose rags of those who had money, took an interest in the looks of the man, and decided that it might be best to follow him. They had accompanied him on the trip, and while privacy was great on the trip, they had bumped in the corridor once while in space. While little more than apologies where said, they could see the look in his eyes, and knew that things happened around people like him. The men where young, and yearning for more. Maybe by seeing the worn man’s actions, they might be able to experience life themselves, and gain honor, for their thirst for adventure was great.

The man took note of his followers, but, seemed aloof to them, as if while his body moved forward, his mind was elsewhere. A local, in his shop, yells out to the man, cursing his family. But the man does not notice. This scene is seen time and time again, as they wander down the street, to in a random direction which the man seems to only know, and understand.

The three come to a door, on which the worn man knocks, seeking a audience with those continued within. A slot appears in the door, which old man, head grizzled in white, peers though. Eyeing up the three, the old one addresses the weary one, wondering if the two behind are with him. The weary one responds not with words, but with a shrug. The old man then asks the weary one if he is here to finish his business. The response is a nod, followed by the words, “take me to him.”

The old man refuses, saying “but I cannot, for he has great power, and to offend him is above my place.”

The other two stand, bewildered and clueless, wondering what they have gotten themselves into, when suddenly, a hand reaches out and grabs sedates both of them.

The old man, continues on, “But alas, it is too late for you. Your fate was sealed by your return.”

A grizzled man walks out from the shadows, his hair streaked with red, and his with the hard look of a man who has seen Akuma and lived. “You should have known better than to come back. Your fate was sealed the day you smeared your honor on the ground and left, vermin.”

The weary man turns around, responding, “is that anyway to greet your brother? I came back for you, and you come to me only in hate.”

“You are no brother of mine, varmin” said the grizzled man, spitting at his opposite’s feet. “My brother died the day you left us. You think that these men would be enough for you?” The grizzled man raises his foot, and grinds it into the face of one of the boys who followed the weary man. “They are lower than the ant that crawls on the dirt beneath your shadow.” As he says this, he stomps down on the ones neck, crushing the wind out of him.

“And yet brother, you still show the same hostility to me and those who happen to be around me as always. Can we not be on better terms?” asks the weary one.

“There are no terms for those without honor” says the grizzled one, drawing his nihontō.

“If it must be” replied the weary one, and with a look of pain, he too draws to face his brother. His brother makes the first move, but it is parried and countered. But the counter met air, and where the weary one should have block, sword meet flesh. He tumbled forward, clutching his side. Trying to hold in the river of red, He spoke, but only softly, “finish the deed, so my honor can remain intact.” He was met by the backhand of the grizzled one, and left to fate, without honor. The grizzled man continued back to the two men who had followed the weary one, and broke their legs in warning, as a sign to them, and retreated back into the shadows.

One of the men regained conciseness, but, trying to stand, fell onto the gravel, marking his face with red. With determination, he crawled over his companion, only to find the live driven from him. With grim determination to leave this place, he dragged himself into the street, and with great pain, to the local Koban. There, he requested the papers, which where only given out once a year, and wrote his name. Takeshi Sengo.

(Sengo was soon found in a hospital, suffering from multipule fractures, but his new employers took care of the medical bills)