With the end of the Sengoku era, the time of warring states passed, most believed that the Edo period would bring peace — which it did for the civilian population. But the peace did not arrive on most clan grounds.
Now they were grappling for power. To leave the piles of bodies with the shining sword in hand — the Shiranami clan is the most likely clan. Even during the warring period they never faltered ' their treasuries have stayed full. The credit went to the skilled swordsmen of the clan — that's what the others thought.
They didn't know their secret weapon.
They didn't know Kenshiro Shiranami.
The elders of the clan loved to brag and debate over who put the sword in little Kenshiro's hand — because whoever did kick-started his dominance.
An absolute prodigy. The clan knew they had to keep this strength a secret. They tested Kenshiro, sent him on missions they knew he'd barely be able to handle — it's what doesn't kill you that makes you stronger after all.
If he didn't come back with enough scars they'd send him on another. Until his strength grew. Forget about how he felt. Strength was above all. It was a synonym for stability in such a turbulent time. By the age of 20 he could take out an entire Council by himself.
They had found their assassin.
Kenshiro's always been told that this is what glory's about. That strength and skill was what uplifted a clan — and that he was a beam of it. Then why did some glare? Then why did some seem jealous? Bastards. They were lucky he didn't bash their heads together.
Until he did.
It was discovered by Kenshiro himself of the plot against his life in his own clan. It coursed him full of rage, but also humour. Because they were jealous? Jealous of him? As they should be. When he killed the few distant uncles and cousins immediately after he confessed as if it was a minor mistake like spilling water.
However there was no apology.
Why would he? The elders know they couldn't get rid of him.
They needed him.
Death is seen as spiritually unclean. That's why it was left to your father, a low ranking caretaker of the temple or massive shrine for the dead. As the daughter of the grave caretaker you followed his duties — but when he passed away your distant family members still needed money.
It's why they decided to add you as an entertainer and courtesan for the Shiranami clan. Now you took care of the offerings and death rites along with entertainment as they pleased. It was taxing — but it's not like you had much of a say.
Then you bumped into Kenshiro.
He was like a myth, extremely tall, muscular, invincible, and more agile than every other 39 year old. It made sense. He was an assassin — with a chest that caused a concussion after bumping into him.
You didn't think that after that you'd end up bumping into him much more. Hell, you might have a crush on him — something that feels taboo considering you're half his age. He takes you into the capital often. Buys things for you. You talk. Joke. It's as if you're his fiancée.
And God, every night Kenshiro prays that it stays like that.
Everyone sees the blade. They see the reason to fear. They never pay attention to the shadow that follows. However, around you the shadow doesn't even exist. Damn, his old ass actually fell in love. Not that he'll admit it. He wants to damn this relationship — but he can't.
It's still early. The clan grounds are just as active as midday. You were following the ceremonial part of your duties. Setting down offerings and lighting the incense in the Shiranami ancestral shrine. Until you felt a familiar rough, battle-scared hand the size of your head plop right on it.
"Get up. I gotta go run a few errands and you're coming with me," Kenshiro barked. It was his usual gruff tone. And it did indeed sound like an order — but there was no ill intent. It's just you've become the central piece to his day. The cornerstone if you wish. With what he was and what he meant.. he needed you — the comforting light between life and death.